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 my knee and fixed me with that knowing stare.
It said, bear with me, you know I’m right, you can’t write
To save yourself, it might be better if you used the time
Instead to feed me diced raw meat – it’s in the
Fridge beside the sweet potato. With that notion
Running through my head I’m thus excused
From writer’s plight although I’d have to have
The last hurrah. Snick (my warm diminutive
For Nicky), I said, get off my lap,
You’re way too fat for meat.
Perhaps you’d like share my pasta carbonara.
Related poetry:
- VANITAS! VANITATUM VANITAS! MY trust in nothing now is placed, Hurrah! So in the world true joy I taste, Hurrah! Then he who would be a comrade of mine Must rattle his glass, and in chorus combine, Over these dregs of wine. I placed my trust in gold and wealth, Hurrah! But then I lost all joy and […]...
- The Truth of Woman Woman’s faith, and woman’s trust – Write the characters in the dust; Stamp them on the running stream, Print them on the moon’s pale beam, And each evanescent letter Shall be clearer, firmer, better, And more permanent, I ween, Than the thing those letters mean. I have strain’d the spider’s thread ‘Gainst the promise of […]...
- The Great Day Hurrah for revolution and more cannon-shot! A beggar upon horseback lashes a beggar on foot. Hurrah for revolution and cannon come again! The beggars have changed places, but the lash goes on....
- My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun (Sonnet 130) My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips’ red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun; If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks; And […]...
- A monument in words And so I had a glaring revelation, I couldn’t find the poet in the man although I read his life composed by writers true disposed To tell it with veracity. They built a monument in words And deeds, a shrine of writers’ reeds inlaid with refined And proper quotes. Those motes were hardly real; I […]...
- Eyes Fastened With Pins How much death works, No one knows what a long Day he puts in. The little Wife always alone Ironing death’s laundry. The beautiful daughters Setting death’s supper table. The neighbors playing Pinochle in the backyard Or just sitting on the steps Drinking beer. Death, Meanwhile, in a strange Part of town looking for Someone […]...
- When I Close My Eyes When I close my eyes I cannot reconstruct your face But the three-dimensional solidity or you Bursts through the tissues of my skin, Transmogrified by a tactile binary fusion. I have catalogued a lifetime of sensation with these fingers But the smell and taste and sound of our private moment together Lingers forever in my […]...
- Sonnet 148: O me! what eyes hath love put in my head O me! what eyes hath love put in my head, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, That censures falsely what they see aright? If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, What means the world to say it is not so? If it be […]...
- Lady button-eyes When the busy day is done, And my weary little one Rocketh gently to and fro; When the night winds softly blow, And the crickets in the glen Chirp and chirp and chirp again; When upon the haunted green Fairies dance around their queen – Then from yonder misty skies Cometh Lady Button-Eyes. Through the […]...
- 108. SongвЂ"Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary? WILL ye go to the Indies, my Mary, And leave auld Scotia’s shore? Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary, Across th’ Atlantic roar? O sweet grows the lime and the orange, And the apple on the pine; But a’ the charms o’ the Indies Can never equal thine. I hae sworn by the […]...
- The Fury Of Cooks Herbs, garlic, Cheese, please let me in! Souffles, salad, Parker House rolls, Please let me in! Cook Helen, Why are you so cross, Why is your kitchen verboten? Couldn’t you just teach me To bake a potato, To bake a potato, That charm, That young prince? No! No! This is my county! You shout silently. […]...
- Dead thoughts of corpses The symbols that we use are T shirts of the dead Thoughts of corpses without heads, a rictus Without sound – open-mouthed, empty, unbound. And if you ever write those clichés which incite My approbation, fuck you, I am not amused. And if I ever do, then fuck me too. I battle with the icons […]...
- Modern Love XXXI: This Golden Head This golden head has wit in it. I live Again, and a far higher life, near her. Some women like a young philosopher; Perchance because he is diminutive. For woman’s manly god must not exceed Proportions of the natural nursing size. Great poets and great sages draw no prize With women: but the little lap-dog […]...
- Digging Between my finger and my thumb The squat pin rest; snug as a gun. Under my window, a clean rasping sound When the spade sinks into gravelly ground: My father, digging. I look down Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds Bends low, comes up twenty years away Stooping in rhythm through potato drills Where […]...
- Our Eyes Our eyes are limpid drops of water. In each drop exists a tiny sign of our genius Which has given life to cold iron. Our eyes are limpid drops of water Merged absolutely in the Ocean That you could hardly recognize the drop in a block of ice in a boiling pan. The masterpiece of […]...
- Her Eyes Up from the street and the crowds that went, Morning and midnight, to and fro, Still was the room where his days he spent, And the stars were bleak, and the nights were slow. Year after year, with his dream shut fast, He suffered and strove till his eyes were dim, For the love that […]...
- Eyes I used to believe that comprehension began right there; That what eyes failed to make sense of, was insensibility. Every time a picture offers a thousand words, They claim the first to know; and if it were not through them, how would we fall for the beauty of a look? Then I learned that deception […]...
- Eyes And Tears How wisely Nature did decree, With the same Eyes to weep and see! That, having view’d the object vain, They might be ready to complain. And since the Self-deluding Sight, In a false Angle takes each hight; These Tears which better measure all, Like wat’ry Lines and Plummets fall. Two Tears, which Sorrow long did […]...
- Her south china sea eyes young girl With her south china sea Eyes Where an ocean wind Sighs Stands as she tries. In the silence Between day and night Between hope and dreaming, Water is carved Deep In where a poet grows In where a child to woman Perceives. A young girl dares To paint Her colors true To dance […]...
- There was a Young Lady Whose Eyes There was a young lady whose eyes, Were unique as to colour and size; When she opened them wide, People all turned aside, And started away in surprise....
- THE EYES OF BEAUTY YOU are a sky of autumn, pale and rose; But all the sea of sadness in my blood Surges, and ebbing, leaves my lips morose, Salt with the memory of the bitter flood. In vain your hand glides my faint bosom o’er, That which you seek, beloved, is desecrate By woman’s tooth and talon; ah, […]...
- Extinguish Thou My Eyes Extinguish Thou my eyes:I still can see Thee, Deprive my ears of sound:I still can hear Thee, And without feet I still can come to Thee, And without voice I still can call to Thee. Sever my arms from me, I still will hold Thee With all my heart as with a single hand, Arrest […]...
- I've a Pain in my Head ‘I’ve a pain in my head’ Said the suffering Beckford; To her Doctor so dread. ‘Oh! what shall I take for’t?’ Said this Doctor so dread Whose name it was Newnham. ‘For this pain in your head Ah! What can you do Ma’am?’ Said Miss Beckford, ‘Suppose If you think there’s no risk, I take […]...
- Look not in my eyes, for fear Look not in my eyes, for fear Thy mirror true the sight I see, And there you find your face too clear And love it and be lost like me. One the long nights through must lie Spent in star-defeated sighs, But why should you as well as I Perish? gaze not in my eyes. […]...
- Lips and Eyes IN Celia’s face a question did arise, Which were more beautiful, her lips or eyes? ” We,” said the eyes, “send forth those pointed darts Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts.” ” From us,” repli’d the lips, “proceed those blisses Which lovers reap by kind words and sweet kisses.” Then wept the eyes, and from […]...
- New Eyes Each Year New eyes each year Find old books here, And new books, too, Old eyes renew; So youth and age Like ink and page In this house join, Minting new coin....
- Tears Hang on Her Eyes tears hang on her eyes The ones on the left Fearing the stertorus night sky The ones on the right Imbued with thoughts Of her faraway mom...
- The eyes that haunt me there are eyes that refuse to exist In the fresh air – they are invented By the lies of paint or make their mark In a memory that had a truth To feed on but only by distortion Right now they sell a dream I’d like to see the back of – they come With […]...
- I closed my eyes to creation I closed my eyes to creation when I beheld his beauty, I became Intoxicated with his beauty and bestowed my soul. For the sake of Solomon’s seal I became wax in all my body, And in order to become illumined I rubbed my wax. I saw his opinion and cast away my own twisted opinion; […]...
- Dust in the Eyes If, as they say, some dust thrown in my eyes Will keep my talk from getting overwise, I’m not the one for putting off the proof. Let it be overwhelming, off a roof And round a corner, blizzard snow for dust, And blind me to a standstill if it must....
- 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...
- Gray Eyes It was April when you came The first time to me, And my first look in your eyes Was like my first look at the sea. We have been together Four Aprils now Watching for the green On the swaying willow bough; Yet whenever I turn To your gray eyes over me, It is as […]...
- On Gray Eyes Looke how the russet morne exceeds the night, How sleekest Jett yields to the di’monds light, So farr the glory of the gray-bright eye Out-vyes the black in lovely majesty. A morning mantl’d with a fleece of gray Laughs from her brow and shewes a spotlesse day: This di’mond-like doth not his lustre owe To […]...
- Whene'er I See Those Smiling Eyes Whene’er I see those smiling eyes, So full of hope, and joy, and light, As if no cloud could ever rise, To dim a heaven so purely bright I sigh to think how soon that brow In grief may lose its every ray, And that light heart, so joyous now, Almost forget it once was […]...
- To Ladies' Eyes To Ladies’ eyes a round, boy, We can’t refuse, we can’t refuse; Though bright eyes so abound, boy, ‘Tis hard to choose, ’tis hard to choose. For thick as stars that lighten Yon airy bowers, yon airy bowers, The countless eyes that brighten This earth of ours, this earth of ours. But fill the cup […]...
- Charles Carville's Eyes A melanholy face Charles Carville had, But not so melancholy as it seemed, When once you knew him, for his mouth redeemed His insufficient eyes, forever sad: In them there was no life-glimpse, good or bad, Nor joy nor passion in them ever gleamed; His mouth was all of him that ever beamed, His eyes […]...
- The Fury Of Hating Eyes I would like to bury All the hating eyes Under the sand somewhere off The North Atlantic and suffocate Them with the awful sand And put all their colors to sleep In that soft smother. Take the brown eyes of my father, Those gun shots, those mean muds. Bury them. Take the blue eyes of […]...
- 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 […]...
- Pumpkins in our time For months on end the pumpkins lay at peace, Their parent vines had all but browned and died Although a stubborn tendril here and there had Tried to grow again – glyphosate soon ended That attempt at insurrection. There were ten Back then, though only nine survived, the unlucky One caught rot and slowly died, […]...
- Like eyes that looked on Wastes Like eyes that looked on Wastes Incredulous of Ought But Blank and steady Wilderness Diversified by Night Just Infinites of Nought As far as it could see So looked the face I looked upon So looked itself on Me I offered it no Help Because the Cause was Mine The Misery a Compact As hopeless […]...