Home ⇒ 📌Gwendolyn Brooks ⇒ My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Till After Hell
My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Till After Hell
I hold my honey and I store my bread
In little jars and cabinets of my will.
I label clearly, and each latch and lid
I bid, Be firm till I return from hell.
I am very hungry. I am incomplete.
And none can give me any word but Wait,
The puny light. I keep my eyes pointed in;
Hoping that, when the devil days of my hurt
Drag out to their last dregs and I resume
On such legs as are left me, in such heart
As I can manage, remember to go home,
My taste will not have turned insensitive
To honey and bread old purity could love.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Wait till the Majesty of Death Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now! Wait till in Everlasting Robes That Democrat is dressed, Then prate about “Preferment” And “Station,” and the rest! Around this quiet Courtier Obsequious Angels wait! Full royal is his Retinue! Full purple is his […]...
- My Triumph lasted till the Drums My Triumph lasted till the Drums Had left the Dead alone And then I dropped my Victory And chastened stole along To where the finished Faces Conclusion turned on me And then I hated Glory And wished myself were They. What is to be is best descried When it has also been Could Prospect taste […]...
- What if I say I shall not wait! What if I say I shall not wait! What if I burst the fleshly Gate And pass escaped to thee! What if I file this Mortal off See where it hurt me That’s enough And wade in Liberty! They cannot take me any more! Dungeons can call and Guns implore Unmeaning now to me As […]...
- Music I Heard Music I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was more than bread; Now that I am without you, all is desolate; All that was once so beautiful is dead. Your hands once touched this table and this silver, And I have seen your fingers hold this glass. These […]...
- Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame some dogs who sleep ay night Must dream of bones And I remember your bones In flesh And best In that dark green dress And those high-heeled bright Black shoes, You always cursed when you drank, Your hair coimng down you Wanted to explode out of What was holding you: Rotten memories of a Rotten […]...
- Till Death is narrow Loving Till Death is narrow Loving The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness be spent But He whose loss procures you Such Destitution that Your Life too abject for itself Thenceforward imitate Until Resemblance perfect Yourself, for His pursuit Delight of Nature abdicate Exhibit Love somewhat...
- From Proverbs of Hell (a) radical Ban all fires And places where people congregate To create comfort Put an end to sleep Good cooking And the delectation of wine Tear lovers apart Piss on the sun and moon Degut all heavenly harmony Strike out across the bitter ice And the poisonous marshes Make (if you dare) a better world […]...
- How sick to wait in any place but thine How sick to wait in any place but thine I knew last night when someone tried to twine Thinking perhaps that I looked tired or alone Or breaking almost with unspoken pain And I turned ducal That right was thine One port suffices for a Brig like mine Ours be the tossing wild though the […]...
- The Devil In Hell HE surely must be wrong who loving fears; And does not flee when beauty first appears. Ye FAIR, with charms divine, I know your fame; No more I’ll burn my fingers in the flame. From you a soft sensation seems to rise, And, to the heart, advances through the eyes; What there it causes I’ve […]...
- My True Love Hath My Heart, And I Have His My true-love hath my heart, and I have his, By just exchange, one for the other giv’n. I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss; There never was a better bargain driv’n. His heart in me keeps me and him in one, My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides; He loves my […]...
- Song from Arcadia My true love hath my heart, and I have his, By Just Exchange, one for the other given. I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss, There never was a better bargain driven. His heart in me keeps me and him in one, My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides; He loves […]...
- The Harlequin Of Dreams Swift, through some trap mine eyes have never found, Dim-panelled in the painted scene of Sleep, Thou, giant Harlequin of Dreams, dost leap Upon my spirit’s stage. Then Sight and Sound, Then Space and Time, then Language, Mete and Bound, And all familiar Forms that firmly keep Man’s reason in the road, change faces, peep […]...
- Rita And The Rifle Between Rita and my eyes There is a rifle And whoever knows Rita Kneels and plays To the divinity in those honey-colored eyes And I kissed Rita When she was young And I remember how she approached And how my arm covered the loveliest of braids And I remember Rita The way a sparrow remembers […]...
- By Their Works Who cleaned up the Last Supper? These would be my people. Maybe hung over, wanting Desperately a better job, Standing with rags In hand as the window Beckons with hills Of yellow grass. In Da Vinci, The blue robed apostle Gesturing at Christ Is saying, give Him the check. What a mess they’ve made Of […]...
- Fire Dreams I REMEMBER here by the fire, In the flickering reds and saffrons, They came in a ramshackle tub, Pilgrims in tall hats, Pilgrims of iron jaws, Drifting by weeks on beaten seas, And the random chapters say They were glad and sang to God. And so Since the iron-jawed men sat down And said, “Thanks, […]...
- Contemplating Hell Contemplating Hell, as I once heard it, My brother Shelley found it to be a place Much like the city of London. I, Who do not live in London, but in Los Angeles, Find, contemplating Hell, that is Must be even more like Los Angeles. Also in Hell, I do not doubt it, there exist […]...
- Far Rockaway Night till Morning WHAT can we say of the night? The fog night, the moon night, the fog moon night last night? There swept out of the sea a song. There swept out of the sea-torn white plungers. There came on the coast wind drive In the spit of a driven spray, On the boom of foam and […]...
- We Go Out Together In the Staring Town We go out together into the staring town And buy cheese and bread and little jugs with Flowered labels Everywhere is a tent where we put on our whirling Show A great deal has been said of the handless serpents Which war has set loose in the gay milk of our Heads But because you […]...
- Dreams While on my lonely couch I lie, I seldom feel myself alone, For fancy fills my dreaming eye With scenes and pleasures of its own. Then I may cherish at my breast An infant’s form beloved and fair, May smile and soothe it into rest With all a Mother’s fondest care. How sweet to feel […]...
- The Wait It is life in slow motion, It’s the heart in reverse, It’s a hope-and-a-half: Too much and too little at once. It’s a train that suddenly Stops with no station around, And we can hear the cricket, And, leaning out the carriage Door, we vainly contemplate A wind we feel that stirs The blooming meadows, […]...
- A Negro Love Song Seen my lady home las’ night, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hel’ huh han’ an’ sque’z it tight, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd huh sigh a little sigh, Seen a light gleam f’om huh eye, An’ a smile go flittin’ by Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd de win’ blow thoo de pine, Jump […]...
- June Dreams, In January “So pulse, and pulse, thou rhythmic-hearted Noon That liest, large-limbed, curved along the hills, In languid palpitation, half a-swoon With ardors and sun-loves and subtle thrills; “Throb, Beautiful! while the fervent hours exhale As kisses faint-blown from thy finger-tips Up to the sun, that turn him passion-pale And then as red as any virgin’s lips. […]...
- Not Works Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea, Never shall accepted be; Fruits of pride (vainglorious worm!) Are the best he can perform. Self, the god his soul adores, Influences all his powers; Jesus is […]...
- Dreams I had a dream, a dream of dread: I thought that horror held the house; A burglar bent above my bed, He moved as quiet as a mouse. With hairy hand and naked knife He poised to plunge a bloody stroke, Until despairful of my life I shrieked with terror – and awoke. I had […]...
- Toad Dreams That afternoon the dream of the toads Rang through the elms by Little River And affected the thoughts of men, Though they were not conscious that They heard it. Henry Thoreau The dream of toads: we rarely Credit what we consider lesser Life with emotions big as ours, But we are easily distracted, Abstracted. People […]...
- Houses Of Dreams You took my empty dreams And filled them every one With tenderness and nobleness, April and the sun. The old empty dreams Where my thoughts would throng Are far too full of happiness To even hold a song. Oh, the empty dreams were dim And the empty dreams were wide, They were sweet and shadowy […]...
- Only Dreams A maiden sat in teh sunset glow Of the shadowy, beautiful Long Ago, That we see through a mist of tears. She sat and dreamed, with lips apart, With thoughtful eyes and a beating heart, Of the mystical future years; And brighter far than the sunset skies Was the vision seen by the maiden’s eyes. […]...
- Valentine Too high, too high to pluck My heart shall swing. A fruit no bee shall suck, No wasp shall sting. If on some night of cold It falls to ground In apple-leaves of gold I’ll wrap it round. And I shall seal it up With spice and salt, In a carven silver cup, In a […]...
- Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ‘Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, […]...
- A Ballad of Hell ‘A letter from my love to-day! Oh, unexpected, dear appeal!’ She struck a happy tear away, And broke the crimson seal. ‘My love, there is no help on earth, No help in heaven; the dead-man’s bell Must toll our wedding; our first hearth Must be the well-paved floor of hell.’ The colour died from out […]...
- Let Us play Yesterday Let Us play Yesterday I the Girl at school You and Eternity the Untold Tale Easing my famine At my Lexicon Logarithm had I for Drink ‘Twas a dry Wine Somewhat different must be Dreams tint the Sleep Cunning Reds of Morning Make the Blind leap Still at the Egg-life Chafing the Shell When you […]...
- By Their Works Call him not heretic whose works attest His faith in goodness by no creed confessed. Whatever in love’s name is truly done To free the bound and lift the fallen one Is done to Christ. Whoso in deed and word Is not against Him labours for our Lord. When he, who, sad and weary, longing […]...
- Ikon: The Harrowing of Hell Down through the tomb’s inward arch He has shouldered out into Limbo To gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber: The merciful dead, the prophets, The innocents just His own age and those Unnumbered others waiting here Unaware, in an endless void He is ending Now, stooping to tug at their hands, To pull them from […]...
- The Walking Man of Rodin LEGS hold a torso away from the earth. And a regular high poem of legs is here. Powers of bone and cord raise a belly and lungs Out of ooze and over the loam where eyes look and ears hear And arms have a chance to hammer and shoot and run motors. You make us […]...
- Dreams of a lifetime Ronald Hi Khong Wong is gone, Sadly he deceased The commencement of this week. It wasn’t unexpected. He never contradicted The prediction of his death Although, perhaps, he hoped for time To sort some odds and ends, And we for time to make allowances For our friend’s impending end. Alas it weren’t to be. We […]...
- The Golf Walk Behold, my child, this touching scene, The golfer on the golfing-green; Pray mark his legs’ uncanny swing, The golf-walk is a gruesome thing! See how his arms and shoulders ride Above his legs in haughty pride, While over bunker, hill and lawn His feet, relentless, drag him on. And does the man walk always so? […]...
- Carlovingian Dreams COUNT these reminiscences like money. The Greeks had their picnics under another name. The Romans wore glad rags and told their neighbors, “What of it?” The Carlovingians hauling logs on carts, they too Stuck their noses in the air and stuck their thumbs to their noses And tasted life as a symphonic dream of fresh […]...
- This Me that walks and works must die This Me that walks and works must die, Some fair or stormy Day, Adversity if it may be Or wild prosperity The Rumor’s Gate was shut so tight Before my mind was born Not even a Prognostic’s push Can make a Dent thereon...
- I Wait For You I wait for you. The years in silence pass And as the image, one, I wait for you again. The distance is in flame and clear one as glass, I, silent, wait with sadness, love and pain. The distance is in flame, and you are coming fast, But I’m afraid that you will change your […]...
- The Old Man Dreams OH for one hour of youthful joy! Give back my twentieth spring! I’d rather laugh, a bright-haired boy, Than reign, a gray-beard king. Off with the spoils of wrinkled age! Away with Learning’s crown! Tear out life’s Wisdom-written page, And dash its trophies down! One moment let my life-blood stream From boyhood’s fount of flame! […]...