Paper towel

Related poetry:

1. The Paper Nautilus For authorities whose hopes Are shaped by mercenaries? Writers entrapped by Teatime fame and by Commuters’ comforts? Not for these The paper nautilus Constructs her thin glass shell. Giving her perishable Souvenir of hope, a dull White outside and smooth- Edged inner surface Glossy as the sea, the watchful Maker of it guards it Day […]...
2. A Scrap of Paper “Will you go to war just for a scrap of paper?” Question Of the German Chancellor to the British Ambassador, August 5, 1914. A mocking question! Britain’s answer came Swift as the light and searching as the flame. “Yes, for a scrap of paper we will fight Till our last breath, and God defend the […]...
3. Paper Boats Day by day I float my paper boats one by one down the running Stream. In bid black letters I write my name on them and the name of The village where I live. I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and Know who I am. I load my little boats […]...
4. The Paper Windmill The little boy pressed his face against the window-pane And looked out At the bright sunshiny morning. The cobble-stones of The square Glistened like mica. In the trees, a breeze danced and Pranced, And shook drops of sunlight like falling golden coins into the brown Water Of the canal. Down stream slowly drifted a long […]...
5. With Penne, Inke, And Paper To A Distressed Friend Here is paper, pen, and inke, That your heart and seale may sinke Into such markes as may expresse A Soule much blest in heavinesse. May your paper seeme as fayre As yourselfe when you appeare: May the Letters which you write Looke like black eye-lids on white. May your penne such fancies bring As […]...
6. Sonnet 28 – My letters! all dead paper, mute and white! My letters! all dead paper, mute and white! And yet they seem alive and quivering Against my tremulous hands which loose the string And let them drop down on my knee to-night. This said,-he wished to have me in his sight Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring To come and touch […]...
7. Scars on Paper An unwrapped icon, too potent to touch, She freed my breasts from the camp Empire dress. Now one of them’s the shadow of a breast With a lost object’s half-life, with as much Life as an anecdotal photograph: Me, Kim and Iva, all stripped to the waist, Hiking near Russian River on June first ’79: […]...
8. The Hand That Signed The Paper The hand that signed the paper felled a city; Five sovereign fingers taxed the breath, Doubled the globe of dead and halved a country; These five kings did a king to death. The mighty hand leads to a sloping shoulder, The finger joints are cramped with chalk; A goose’s quill has put an end to […]...
9. If I Should Learn, In Some Quite Casual Way IF I should learn, in some quite casual way, That you were gone, not to return again – Read from the back-page of a paper, say, Held by a neighbor in a subway train, How at the corner of this avenue And such a street (so are the papers filled) A hurrying man-who happened to […]...
10. Somebody god I got the sad blue blues, This woman sat there and she Said Are you really Charles Bukowski? And I said forget that I do not feel good I’ve got the sad sads All I want to do is Fuck you And she laughed She thought I was being Clever And O I just […]...
11. 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 […]...
12. A Song at Cock-Crow The first time that Peter denied his Lord He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord, But followed far off to see what they would do, Till the cock crew till the cock crew After Gethsemane, till the cock crew! The first time that Peter denied his Lord ‘Twas only a maid in […]...
13. The Washing and Dressing Ah! why will my dear little girl be so cross, And cry, and look sulky, and pout? To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss, I can’t even kiss her without. You say you don’t like to be wash’d and be dress’d, But would you not wish to be clean? Come, drive that long […]...
14. The Height of the Ridiculous I WROTE some lines once on a time In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die; Albeit, in the general way, A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came; How kind […]...
15. I Remember Galileo I remember Galileo describing the mind As a piece of paper blown around by the wind, And I loved the sight of it sticking to a tree, Or jumping into the backseat of a car, And for years I watched paper leap through my cities; But yesterday I saw the mind was a squirrel caught […]...
16. Crepuscule du Matin All night I wrestled with a memory Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought. The crumbled wreck of years behind has wrought Its disillusion; now I only cry For peace, for power to forget the lie Which hope too long has whispered. So I sought The sleep which would not come, and night was […]...
17. 335. Song-Fragment-Johnie lad, Cock up your Beaver WHEN first my brave Johnie lad came to this town, He had a blue bonnet that wanted the crown; But now he has gotten a hat and a feather, Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up your beaver! Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu’ sprush, We’ll over the border, and gie them a brush; […]...
18. Paper Men To Air Hopes And Fears The first speaker said Fear fire. Fear furnaces Incinerators, the city dump The faint scratch of a match. The second speaker said Fear water. Fear drenching rain Drizzle, oceans, puddles, a damp Day and the flush toilet. The third speaker said Fear wind. And it needn’t be A hurricane. Drafts, open Windows, electric fans. The […]...
19. Old Codger Of garden truck he made his fare, As his bright eyes bore witness; Health was his habit and his care, His hobby human fitness. He sang the praise of open sky, The gladth of Nature’s giving; And when at last he came to die It was of too long living. He held aloof from hate […]...
20. Departure It’s little I care what path I take, And where it leads it’s little I care; But out of this house, lest my heart break, I must go, and off somewhere. It’s little I know what’s in my heart, What’s in my mind it’s little I know, But there’s that in me must up and […]...
21. Covering Two Years This nothingness that feeds upon itself: Pencils that turn to water in the hand, Parts of a sentence, hanging in the air, Thoughts breaking in the mind like glass, Blank sheets of paper that reflect the world Whitened the world that I was silenced by. There were two years of that. Slowly, Whatever splits, dissevers, […]...
22. Sea Shell Sea Shell, Sea Shell, Sing me a song, O Please! A song of ships, and sailor men, And parrots, and tropical trees, Of islands lost in the Spanish Main Which no man ever may find again, Of fishes and corals under the waves, And seahorses stabled in great green caves. Sea Shell, Sea Shell, Sing […]...
23. A Suggestion As I go and shop, sir! If a car I stop, sir! Where you chance to sit, And you want to read, sir! Never mind or heed, sir! I’ll not care a bit. For it’s now aesthetic To be quite athletic. That’s our fad, you know. I can hold the strap, sir! And keep off […]...
24. Introductory Verses Oh, you who read some song that I have sung – What know you of the soul from whence it sprung? Dost dream the poet ever speaks aloud His secret thought unto the listening crowd? Go take the murmuring sea-shell from the shore- You have its shape, its colour – and no more. It tells […]...
25. Chaucer An old man in a lodge within a park; The chamber walls depicted all around With portraitures of huntsman, hawk, and hound, And the hurt deer. He listeneth to the lark, Whose song comes with the sunshine through the dark Of painted glass in leaden lattice bound; He listeneth and he laugheth at the sound, […]...
26. Yes, the Dead Speak to Us YES, the Dead speak to us. This town belongs to the Dead, to the Dead and to the Wilderness. Back of the clamps on a fireproof door they hold the papers of the Dead in a house here And when two living men fall out, when one says the Dead spoke a Yes, and the […]...
27. Love Letter Written In A Burning Building I am in a crate, the crate that was ours, Full of white shirts and salad greens, The icebox knocking at our delectable knocks, And I wore movies in my eyes, And you wore eggs in your tunnel, And we played sheets, sheets, sheets All day, even in the bathtub like lunatics. But today I […]...
28. The Gardener LXXV: At Midnight At midnight the would-be ascetic Announced: “This is the time to give up my Home and seek for God. Ah, who has Held me so long in delusion here?” God whispered, “I,” but the ears Of the man were stopped. With a baby asleep at her breast Lay his wife, peacefully sleeping on One side […]...
29. The People ‘What have I earned for all that work,’ I said, ‘For all that I have done at my own charge? The daily spite of this unmannerly town, Where who has served the most is most defaned, The reputation of his lifetime lost Between the night and morning. I might have lived, And you know well […]...
30. 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, […]...
31. Poem (The lump of coal my parents teased) The lump of coal my parents teased I’d find in my Christmas stocking Turned out each year to be an orange, For I was their sunshine. Now I have one C. gave me, A dense node of sleeping fire. I keep it where I read and write. “You’re on chummy terms with dread,” It reminds […]...
32. Flight Of Stairs Stairs fly as straight as hawks; Or else in spirals, curve out of curve, pausing At a ledge to poise their wings before relaunching. Stairs sway at the height of their flight Like a melody in Tristan; Or swoop to the ground with glad spread of their feathers Before they close them. They curiously investigate […]...
33. Dream Song 64: Supreme my holdings, greater yet my need Supreme my holdings, greater yet my need, Thoughtless I go out. Dawn. Have I my cig’s, My flaskie O, O crystal cock, —my kneel has gone to seed, — And anybody’s blessing? (Blast the MIGs For making funble so My tardy readying.) Yes, utter’ that. Anybody’s blessing? —Mr Bones, You makes too much I might […]...
34. They Were Welcome To Their Belief Grief may have thought it was grief. Care may have thought it was care. They were welcome to their belief, The overimportant pair. No, it took all the snows that clung To the low roof over his bed, Beginning when he was young, To induce the one snow on his head. But whenever the roof […]...
35. Be Not Weary Sometimes, when I am toil-worn and aweary, And tired out with working long and well, And earth is dark, and skies above are dreary, And heart and soul are all too sick to tell, These words have come to me like angel fingers Pressing the spirit’s eyelids down in sleep, ‘Oh let us not be […]...
36. A Minor Poet I am a shell. From me you shall not hear The splendid tramplings of insistent drums, The orbed gold of the viol’s voice that comes, Heavy with radiance, languorous and clear. Yet, if you hold me close against the ear, A dim, far whisper rises clamorously, The thunderous beat and passion of the sea, The […]...
37. Mowing There was never a sound beside the wood but one, And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground. What was it it whispered? I knew not well myself; Perhaps it was something about the heat of the sun, Something, perhaps, about the lack of sound And that was why it whispered and did […]...
38. Politics ‘In our time the destiny of man prevents its meanings In political terms.’ Thomas Mann. How can I, that girl standing there, My attention fix On Roman or on Russian Or on Spanish politics? Yet here’s a travelled man that knows What he talks about, And there’s a politician That has read and thought, And […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. Do you know who is thinking of you? If you start out every day in the same old gloomy way It’s little wonder what other people think of you, but The ones who matter most are the ones who hold you close In their hearts, who’re always thinking of you; Do you know, do you know, Do you know who is thinking of […]...