The New Omar

Related poetry:

1. On Reading Omar Khayyam [During an anti-saloon campaign, in central Illinois.] In the midst of the battle I turned, (For the thunders could flourish without me) And hid by a rose-hung wall, Forgetting the murder about me; And wrote, from my wound, on the stone, In mirth, half prayer, half play: – “Send me a picture book, Send me […]...
2. A Cider Song To J. S. M. The wine they drink in Paradise They make in Haute Lorraine; God brought it burning from the sod To be a sign and signal rod That they that drink the blood of God Shall never thirst again. The wine they praise in Paradise They make in Ponterey, The purple wine of […]...
3. The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam I. Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught The Sultan’s Turret in a Noose of Light. II. Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the Sky I heard a voice within the Tavern cry, “Awake, […]...
4. The Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam Of Naishapur 1 Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught The Sultan’s Turret in a Noose of Light. 2 Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the Sky I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry, “Awake, […]...
5. To May I have no heart to write verses to May; I have no heart-yet I’m cheerful today; I have no heart-she has won mine away So-I have no heart to write verses to May....
6. The Rupaiyat of Omar Kal'vin Now the New Year, reviving last Year’s Debt, The Thoughtful Fisher casteth wide his Net; So I with begging Dish and ready Tongue Assail all Men for all that I can get. Imports indeed are gone with all their Dues Lo! Salt a Lever that I dare not use, Nor may I ask the Tillers […]...
7. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
8. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
9. Notes for Canto CXX I have tried to write Paradise Do not move Let the wind speak That is paradise. Let the Gods forgive what I Have made Let those I love try to forgive What I have made....
10. 303. Song-The Gowden Locks of Anna YESTREEN I had a pint o’ wine, A place where body saw na; Yestreen lay on this breast o’ mine The gowden locks of Anna. The hungry Jew in wilderness, Rejoicing o’er his manna, Was naething to my hinny bliss Upon the lips of Anna. Ye monarchs, take the East and West Frae Indus to […]...
11. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
12. Poet And Peer They asked the Bard of Ayr to dine; The banquet hall was fit and fine, With gracing it a Lord; The poet came; his face was grim To find the place reserved for him Was at the butler’s board. So when the gentry called him in, He entered with a knavish grin And sipped a […]...
13. Prophets at Home Prophets have honour all over the Earth, Except in the village where they were born, Where such as knew them boys from birth Nature-ally hold ’em in scorn. When Prophets are naughty and young and vain, They make a won’erful grievance of it; (You can see by their writings how they complain), But 0, ’tis […]...
14. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
15. Not yet 40, my beard is already white Not yet 40, my beard is already white. Not yet awake, my eyes are puffy and red, Like a child who has cried too much. What is more disagreeable Than last night’s wine? I’ll shave. I’ll stick my head in the cold spring and Look around at the pebbles. Maybe I can eat a can […]...
16. Heart of God O great heart of God, Once vague and lost to me, Why do I throb with your throb to-night, In this land, eternity? O little heart of God, Sweet intruding stranger, You are laughing in my human breast, A Christ-child in a manger. Heart, dear heart of God, Beside you now I kneel, Strong heart […]...
17. Strong Draughts of Their Refreshing Minds Strong Draughts of Their Refreshing Minds To drink enables Mine Through Desert or the Wilderness As bore it Sealed Wine To go elastic Or as One The Camel’s trait attained How powerful the Stimulus Of an Hermetic Mind...
18. Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth, That having such a scope to show her pride, The argument all bare is of more worth Than when it hath my added praise beside. O, blame me not if I no more can write! Look in your glass, and there appears a face That overgoes my blunt […]...
19. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
20. Sonnet XXI: A Witless Galant A witless gallant a young wench that woo’d (Yet his dull spirit her not one jot could move), Entreated me, as e’er I wish’d his good, To write him but one sonnet to his love; When I, as fast as e’er my pen could trot, Pour’d out what first from quick invention came, Nor never […]...
21. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
22. Ode To Wine Day-colored wine, Night-colored wine, Wine with purple feet Or wine with topaz blood, Wine, Starry child Of earth, Wine, smooth As a golden sword, Soft As lascivious velvet, Wine, spiral-seashelled And full of wonder, Amorous, Marine; Never has one goblet contained you, One song, one man, You are choral, gregarious, At the least, you must […]...
23. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
24. If It Is True What the Prophets Write If it is true, what the Prophets write, That the heathen gods are all stocks and stones, Shall we, for the sake of being polite, Feed them with the juice of our marrow-bones? And if Bezaleel and Aholiab drew What the finger of God pointed to their view, Shall we suffer the Roman and Grecian […]...
25. Trainor the Druggist Only the chemist can tell, and not always the chemist, What will result from compounding Fluids or solids. And who can tell How men and women will interact On each other, or what children will result? There were Benjamin Pantier and his wife, Good in themselves, but evil toward each other: He oxygen, she hydrogen, […]...
26. At Bordj-an-Nus El Arabi! El Arabi! Burn in thy brilliance, mine own! O Beautiful! O Barbarous! Seductive as a serpent is That poises head and hood, and makes his body tremble to the drone Of tom-tom and of cymbal wooed by love’s assassin sorceries! El Arabi! El Arabi! The moon is down; we are alone; May not […]...
27. Golden Days Another day of toil and strife, Another page so white, Within that fateful Log of Life That I and all must write; Another page without a stain To make of as I may, That done, I shall not see again Until the Judgment Day. Ah, could I, could I backward turn The pages of that […]...
28. Minerva Jones I am Minerva, the village poetess, Hooted at, jeered at by the Yahoos of the street For my heavy body, cock-eye, and rolling walk, And all the more when “Butch” Weldy Captured me after a brutal hunt. He left me to my fate with Doctor Meyers; And I sank into death, growing numb from the […]...
29. The Missal Makers To visit the Escurial We took a motor bus, And there a guide mercurial Took charge of us. He showed us through room after room, And talked hour after hour, Of place, crypt and royal tomb, Of pomp and power. But in bewilderment of grace What pleased me most of all Were ancient missals proud […]...
30. On Being Born The Same Exact Day Of The Same Exact Year As Boy George We must have clamored for the same mother, hurried for the same womb. I know it now as I read that my birthday is his. Since the first time I saw his picture, I sensed something- And with a fierce bonding and animosity Began following his career. Look where I am and look where he […]...
31. I will beguile him with the tongue Reason says, ” I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says, “Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.” The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself. What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him Thereby?” He is not sorrowful and anxious and […]...
32. Hymn 151 Prophecy and inspiration. ‘Twas by an order from the Lord The ancient prophets spoke his word; His Spirit did their tongues inspire, And warmed their hearts with heav’nly fire. The works and wonders which they wrought Confirmed the messages they brought; The prophet’s pen succeeds his breath, To save the holy words from death. Great […]...
33. My Masterpiece It’s slim and trim and bound in blue; Its leaves are crisp and edged with gold; Its words are simple, stalwart too; Its thoughts are tender, wise and bold. Its pages scintillate with wit; Its pathos clutches at my throat: Oh, how I love each line of it! That Little Book I Never Wrote. In […]...
34. Invitation To Miss Marianne Moore From Brooklyn, over the Brooklyn Bridge, on this fine morning, please come flying. In a cloud of fiery pale chemicals, please come flying, To the rapid rolling of thousands of small blue drums Descending out of the mackerel sky Over the glittering grandstand of harbor-water, please come flying. Whistles, pennants and smoke are blowing. The […]...
35. Unthrift Ah, wasteful woman, she who may On her sweet self set her own price, Knowing men cannot choose but pay, How she has cheapen’d paradise; How given for nought her priceless gift, How spoil’d the bread and spill’d the wine, Which, spent with due, respective thrift, Had made brutes men, and men divine....
36. Anecdote Of The Jar I placed a jar in Tennessee, And round it was, upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness Surround that hill. The wilderness rose up to it, And sprawled around, no longer wild. The jar was round upon the ground And tall and of a port in air. It took dominion everywhere. The jar was […]...
37. E TENEBRIS Come down, O Christ, and help me! reach Thy hand, For I am drowning in a stormier sea Than Simon on Thy lake of Galilee: The wine of life is spilt upon the sand, My heart is as some famine-murdered land Whence all good things have perished utterly, And well I know my soul in […]...
38. Woe! It is true, our tribe is similar to the bees, It gathers honey of wisdom, carries it, stores it in honeycombs. I am able to roam for hours Through the labyrinth of the main library, floor to floor. But yesterday, looking for the words of masters and prophets, I wandered into high regions That are […]...
39. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
40. Sonnet VIII As Daniel, bird-alone, in that far land, Kneeling in fervent prayer, with heart-sick eyes Turned thro’ the casement toward the westering skies; Or as untamed Elijah, that red brand Among the starry prophets; or that band And company of Faithful sanctities Who in all times, when persecutions rise, Cherish forgotten creeds with fostering hand: Such […]...