The Sword of Suprise

Related poetry:

1. Contemplation Of The Sword Reason will not decide at last; the sword will decide. The sword: an obsolete instrument of bronze or steel, formerly used to kill men, but here In the sense of a symbol. The sword: that is: the storms and counter-storms of general destruction; killing of men, Destruction of all goods and materials; massacre, more or […]...
2. The Christ-sword THE WHILE my mad brain whirled around She only looked with eyes elate Immortal love at me. I found How deep the glance of love can wound, How cruel pity is to hate. I was begirt with hostile spears: My angel warred in me for you Whose gentle calmness all too fierce Made unseen lightnings […]...
3. Snow ‘Who affirms that crystals are alive?’ I affirm it, let who will deny: Crystals are engendered, wax and thrive, Wane and wither; I have seen them die. Trust me, masters, crystals have their day, Eager to attain the perfect norm, Lit with purpose, potent to display Facet, angle, colour, beauty, form. Water-crystals need for flower […]...
4. Sword Blades and Poppy Seed A drifting, April, twilight sky, A wind which blew the puddles dry, And slapped the river into waves That ran and hid among the staves Of an old wharf. A watery light Touched bleak the granite bridge, and white Without the slightest tinge of gold, The city shivered in the cold. All day my thoughts […]...
5. Lay His Sword By His Side Lay his sword by his side it hath served him too well Not to rest near his pillow below; To the last moment true, from his hand ere it fell, Its point was still turn’d to a flying foe. Fellow-labourers in life, let them slumber in death, Side by side, as becomes the reposing brave […]...
6. The House of Christmas There fared a mother driven forth Out of an inn to roam; In the place where she was homeless All men are at home. The crazy stable close at hand, With shaking timber and shifting sand, Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand Than the square stones of Rome. For men are homesick in […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
9. Man Alone It is yourself you seek In a long rage, Scanning through light and darkness Mirrors, the page, Where should reflected be Those eyes and that thick hair, That passionate look, that laughter. You should appear Within the book, or doubled, Freed, in the silvered glass; Into all other bodies Yourself should pass. The glass does […]...
10. At Burgos Miraculous silver-work in stone Against the blue miraculous skies, The belfry towers and turrets rise Out of the arches that enthrone That airy wonder of the skies. Softly against the burning sun The great cathedral spreads its wings; High up, the lyric belfry sings. Behold Ascension Day begun Under the shadow of those wings!...
11. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
12. After Auschwitz Anger, As black as a hook, Overtakes me. Each day, Each Nazi Took, at 8:00 A. M., a baby And sauteed him for breakfast In his frying pan. And death looks on with a casual eye And picks at the dirt under his fingernail. Man is evil, I say aloud. Man is a flower That […]...
13. The Christening What shall I call My dear little dormouse? His eyes are small, But his tail is e-nor-mouse. I sometimes call him Terrible John, ‘Cos his tail goes on – And on – And on. And I sometimes call him Terrible Jack, ‘Cos his tail goes on to the end of his back. And I sometimes […]...
14. Lisette and Eileen “When he was here alive, Eileen, There was a word you might have said; So never mind what I have been, Or anything,-for you are dead. “And after this when I am there Where he is, you’ll be dying still. Your eyes are dead, and your black hair,- The rest of you be what it […]...
15. So the Eyes accost and sunder So the Eyes accost and sunder In an Audience Stamped occasionally forever So may Countenance Entertain without addressing Countenance of One In a Neighboring Horizon Gone as soon as known...
16. Telegram I SAW a telegram handed a two hundred pound man at a desk. And the little scrap of paper charged the air like a set of crystals in a chemist’s tube to a whispering pinch of salt. Cross my heart, the two hundred pound man had just cracked a joke about a new hat he […]...
17. Words Be careful of words, Even the miraculous ones. For the miraculous we do our best, Sometimes they swarm like insects And leave not a sting but a kiss. They can be as good as fingers. They can be as trusty as the rock You stick your bottom on. But they can be both daisies and […]...
18. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
19. Over The Alley Here in my office I sit and write Hour on hour, and day on day, With no one to speak to from morn till night, Though I have a neighbour just over the way. Across the alley that yawns between A maiden sits sewing the whole day long; A face more lovely is seldom seen […]...
20. Ready to step into life This morning, coffee in hand, standing at the kitchen Window thinking of things that need to be done I contemplated the post with a lean at the front gate Which I should right one day – and wondered why; I like it that way, trying to take a first step, Embark on a journey perhaps, […]...
21. NO ONE EVER COMES Eupatius thought: “Give him a thousand horses, A thousand bridles of eloquent gold. Wash his feet, feed him well, show him my dancers. If he knows a secret, don’t ask him about it. If he wants to tell a fable, let him speak. Lead him into my garden, pluck peaches for him. Keep near him […]...
22. John Horace Burleson I won the prize essay at school Here in the village, And published a novel before I was twenty-five. I went to the city for themes and to enrich my art; There married the banker’s daughter, And later became president of the bank- Always looking forward to some leisure To write an epic novel of […]...
23. Purple Martins IF we were such and so, the same as these, Maybe we too would be slingers and sliders, Tumbling half over in the water mirrors, Tumbling half over at the horse heads of the sun, Tumbling our purple numbers. Twirl on, you and your satin blue. Be water birds, be air birds. Be these purple […]...
24. The Garden The garden admires you. For your sake it smears itself with green pigment, The ecstatic reds of the roses, So that you will come to it with your lovers. And the willows See how it has shaped these green Tents of silence. Yet There is still something you need, Your body so soft, so alive, […]...
25. Dream Song 8: The weather was fine. They took away his teeth The weather was fine. They took away his teeth, White & helpful; bothered his backhand; Halved his green hair. They blew out his loves, his interests. ‘Underneath,’ (they called in iron voices) ‘understand, Is nothing. So there.’ The weather was very fine. They lifted off His covers till he showed, and cringed & pled To […]...
26. Love The Wild Swan “I hate my verses, every line, every word. Oh pale and brittle pencils ever to try One grass-blade’s curve, or the throat of one bird That clings to twig, ruffled against white sky. Oh cracked and twilight mirrors ever to catch One color, one glinting Flash, of the splendor of things. Unlucky hunter, Oh bullets […]...
27. Greater Love Red lips are not so red As the stained stones kissed by the English dead. Kindness of wooed and wooer Seems shame to their love pure. O Love, your eyes lose lure When I behold eyes blinded in my stead! Your slender attitude Trembles not exquisite like limbs knife-skewed, Rolling and rolling there Where God […]...
28. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say […]...
29. Dark Prophecy: I Sing Of Shine And, yeah brothers While white America sings about the unsinkable molly brown (who was hustling the titanic When it went down) I sing to thee of Shine The stoker who was hip enough to flee the fucking ship And let the white folks drown With screams on their lips (jumped his black ass into the […]...
30. Giving Myself Up I give up my eyes which are glass eggs. I give up my tongue. I give up my mouth which is the contstant dream of my tongue. I give up my throat which is the sleeve of my voice. I give up my heart which is a burning apple. I give up my lungs which […]...
31. To a Child of Quality, Five Years Old, 1704. The Author then Forty LORDS, knights, and squires, the numerous band That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fetters, Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their letters. My pen amongst the rest I took, Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, Should dart their kindling fire, and look The power they have to be obey’d. […]...
32. Dinner at the Who's Who amidst swirling wine And flickers of silver guests quote Dante, Brecht, Kant and each other. I wait in the hall after not Powdering my nose, trying to re- Compose that woman who’ll graciously take her place At the table and won’t tell her hosts: I looked into your bedroom and closets, smelled your “Obsession” and […]...
33. The Rolling English Road Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode, The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road. A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire, And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire; A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread The […]...
34. In the Womb STILL rests the heavy share on the dark soil: Upon the black mould thick the dew-damp lies: The horse waits patient: from his lowly toil The ploughboy to the morning lifts his eyes. The unbudding hedgerows dark against day’s fires Glitter with gold-lit crystals: on the rim Over the unregarding city’s spires The lonely beauty […]...
35. Sonnets 07: When I Too Long Have Looked Upon Your Face When I too long have looked upon your face, Wherein for me a brightness unobscured Save by the mists of brightness has its place, And terrible beauty not to be endured, I turn away reluctant from your light, And stand irresolute, a mind undone, A silly, dazzled thing deprived of sight From having looked too […]...
36. The Metamorphosed Gypsies (excerpt) The fairy beam upon you, The stars to glister on you; A moon of light In the noon of night, Till the fire-drake hath o’ergone you. The wheel of fortune guide you The boy with the bow beside you; Run aye in the way Till the bird of day, And the luckier lot betide you. […]...
37. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
38. The Term A rumpled sheet Of brown paper About the length And apparent bulk Of a man was Rolling with the Wind slowly over And over in The street as A car drove down Upon it and Crushed it to The ground. Unlike A man it rose Again rolling With the wind over And over to be […]...
39. Lying in me Lying in me, as though it were a white Stone in the depths of a well, is one Memory that I cannot, will not, fight: It is happiness, and it is pain. Anyone looking straight into my eyes Could not help seeing it, and could not fail To become thoughtful, more sad and quiet Than […]...
40. How know it from a Summer's Day? How know it from a Summer’s Day? Its Fervors are as firm And nothing in the Countenance But scintillates the same Yet Birds examine it and flee And Vans without a name Inspect the Admonition And sunder as they came...