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, move in a new plane
Like the man who should worry about it.
If I straighten it, it will be from subconscious
Desires I don’t understand. I should wait a bit,
It might succeed and something new
Will trouble me until I see it has gone.
Today I am building a frame to suspend
Something miraculous (anything I succeed in is
Miraculous), this frame has been planned
For years. If it rains, and there is no miracle in
That, the suspension will protect us from damp.
I have copied the pictures I held in my mind
Into graphics on paper, they are somewhat alike,
Leaning a bit like the post, ready to step into life.
Related poetry:
- The First Step The young poet Evmenis Complained one day to Theocritus: “I’ve been writing for two years now And I’ve composed only one idyll. It’s my single completed work. I see, sadly, that the ladder Of Poetry is tall, extremely tall; And from this first step I’m standing on now I’ll never climb any higher.” Theocritus retorted: […]...
- Step lightly on this narrow spot Step lightly on this narrow spot The broadest Land that grows Is not so ample as the Breast These Emerald Seams enclose. Step lofty, for this name be told As far as Cannon dwell Or Flag subsist or Fame export Her deathless Syllable....
- The Ships Are Made Ready In Silence Moored to the same ring: The hour, the darkness and I, Our compasses hooded like falcons. Now the memory of you comes aching in With a wash of broken bits which never left port In which once we planned voyages, They come knocking like hearts asking: What departures on this tide? Breath of land, warm […]...
- One Step Backward Taken Not only sands and gravels Were once more on their travels, But gulping muddy gallons Great boulders off their balance Bumped heads together dully And started down the gully. Whole capes caked off in slices. I felt my standpoint shaken In the universal crisis. But with one step backward taken I saved myself from going. […]...
- Beta Blogger Blues Have you switched to Beta yet? It’s an even bet that if you have You quite regret your impulse To accept the canny invitation. It’s okay, I hear you say, the crew’s A clever team and give you confidence They’ll solve the sorry logon glitch And while a bitch to reach your Blog in Beta […]...
- Miracles Each time that I switch on the light A Miracle it seems to me That I should rediscover sight And banish dark so utterly. One moment I am bleakly blind, The next exultant life I find. Below the sable of the sky My eyelids double darkness make. Sleep is divine, yet oh how I Am […]...
- In Due Form I do not doubt you. I know you love me. It is a fact of your indoor face, A true fancy of your muscularity. Your step is confident. Your look is thorough. Your stay-beside-me is a pillow To roll over on And sleep as on my own upon. But make me a statement In due […]...
- Tie the Strings to my Life, My Lord Tie the Strings to my Life, My Lord, Then, I am ready to go! Just a look at the Horses Rapid! That will do! Put me in on the firmest side So I shall never fall For we must ride to the Judgment And it’s partly, down Hill But never I mind the steeper And […]...
- The Tenant-For-Life The sun said, watching my watering-pot “Some morn you’ll pass away; These flowers and plants I parch up hot – Who’ll water them that day? “Those banks and beds whose shape your eye Has planned in line so true, New hands will change, unreasoning why Such shape seemed best to you. “Within your house will […]...
- Waiting For The Miracle (co-written by Sharon Robinson) Baby, I’ve been waiting, I’ve been waiting night and day. I didn’t see the time, I waited half my life away. There were lots of invitations And I know you sent me some, But I was waiting For the miracle, for the miracle to come. I know you really loved me. […]...
- As I Step Over A Puddle At The End Of Winter, I Think Of An Ancient Chinese Governor And how can I, born in evil days And fresh from failure, ask a kindness of Fate? Written A. D. 819 Po Chu-i, balding old politician, What’s the use? I think of you, Uneasily entering the gorges of the Yang-Tze, When you were being towed up the rapids Toward some political job or other In […]...
- No Life can pompless pass away No Life can pompless pass away The lowliest career To the same Pageant wends its way As that exalted here How cordial is the mystery! The hospitable Pall A “this way” beckons spaciously A Miracle for all!...
- What A Writer what i liked about e. e. cummings Was that he cut away from The holiness of the Word And with charm And gamble Gave us lines That sliced through the Dung. How it was needed! How we were withering Away In the old Tired Manner. Of course, then came all The e. e. cummings Copyists. […]...
- 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 […]...
- Life As late I journey’d o’er the extensive plain Where native Otter sports his scanty stream, Musing in torpid woe a Sister’s pain, The glorious prospect woke me from the dream. At every step it widen’d to my sight – Wood, Meadow, verdant Hill, and dreary Steep, Following in quick succession of delight, – Till all […]...
- Life in a Bottle Escape me? Never Beloved! While I am I, and you are you, So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue. My life is a fault at last, I fear: It seems too much like a fate, indeed! Though I do […]...
- Paper towel She wrapped a paper towel around his softened cock In what he thought was quaint affection, that was new, An after-thought perhaps, refined appreciation? She had never talked a lot in bed just let her actions Tell her needs in ways he understood with very little Coaching. And when he asked about the towel she […]...
- Life In A Love Escape me? Never – Beloved! While I am I, and you are you, So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue. My life is a fault at last, I fear – It seems too much like a fate, indeed! Though […]...
- Ready to Kill TEN minutes now I have been looking at this. I have gone by here before and wondered about it. This is a bronze memorial of a famous general Riding horseback with a flag and a sword and a revolver On him. I want to smash the whole thing into a pile of junk to be […]...
- Love and Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams giv’n o’er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. The time that is to come is not; How can it then be mine? The present moment’s all my lot; And that, as fast as it is got, […]...
- All My Past Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams given o’er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. What ever is to come is not, How can it then be mine? The present moment’s all my lot, And that as fast as it is got, Phyllis, […]...
- Psalm 139 part 2 The wonderful formation of man. ‘Twas from thy hand, my God, I came, A work of such a curious frame In me thy fearful wonders shine, And each proclaims thy skill divine. Thine eyes did all my limbs survey, Which yet in dark confusion lay; Thou saw’st the daily growth they took, Formed by the […]...
- Luck once We were young At this Machine. . . Drinking Smoking Typing It was a most Splendid Miraculous Time Still Is Only now Instead of Moving toward Time It Moves toward Us Makes each word Drill Into the Paper Clear Fast Hard Feeding a Closing Space....
- Confetti In The Wind He wrote a letter in his mind To answer one a maid had sent; He sought the fitting word to find, As on by hill and rill he went. By bluebell wood and hawthorn lane, The cadence sweet and silken phrase He incubated in his brain For days and days. He wrote his letter on […]...
- Still Life COOL your heels on the rail of an observation car. Let the engineer open her up for ninety miles an hour. Take in the prairie right and left, rolling land and new hay crops, swaths of new hay laid in the sun. A gray village flecks by and the horses hitched in front of the […]...
- Up Life's Hill with my my little Bundle Up Life’s Hill with my my little Bundle If I prove it steep If a Discouragement withhold me If my newest step Older feel than the Hope that prompted Spotless be from blame Heart that proposed as Heart that accepted Homelessness, for Home...
- If Still Your Orchards Bear Brother, that breathe the August air Ten thousand years from now, And smell-if still your orchards bear Tart apples on the bough- The early windfall under the tree, And see the red fruit shine, I cannot think your thoughts will be Much different from mine. Should at that moment the full moon Step forth upon […]...
- 9. The Ploughman's Life AS I was a-wand’ring ae morning in spring, I heard a young ploughman sae sweetly to sing; And as he was singin’, thir words he did say,- There’s nae life like the ploughman’s in the month o’ sweet May. The lav’rock in the morning she’ll rise frae her nest, And mount i’ the air wi’ […]...
- In The Seven Woods I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods Make their faint thunder, and the garden bees Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and put away The unavailing outcries and the old bitterness That empty the heart. I have forgot awhile Tara uprooted, and new commonness Upon the throne and crying about the streets And hanging […]...
- 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 […]...
- 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!...
- The Hand Throughout my life I see A guiding hand; The pitfalls set for me Were grimly planned. But always when and where They opened wide, Someone who seemed to care Stood by my side. When up the pathway dark I stumbled on, Afar, ahead a spark Of guidance shone. When forked the tragic trail And sad […]...
- What Is Life? Resembles Life what once was held of Light, Too ample in itself for human sight? An absolute Self an element ungrounded All, that we see, all colours of all shade [Image]By encroach of darkness made? Is very life by consciousness unbounded? And all the thoughts, pains, joys of mortal breath, A war-embrace of wrestling Life […]...
- The Fallen Angels They come on to my clean Sheet of paper and leave a Rorschach blot. They do not do this to be mean, They do it to give me a sign They want me, as Aubrey Beardsley once said, To shove it around till something comes. Clumsy as I am, I do it. For I am […]...
- Smile, Smile, Smile Head to limp head, the sunk-eyed wounded scanned Yesterday’s Mail; the casualties (typed small) And (large) Vast Booty from our Latest Haul. Also, they read of Cheap Homes, not yet planned; For, said the paper, “When this war is done The men’s first instinct will be making homes. Meanwhile their foremost need is aerodromes, It […]...
- Love's Loneliness Old fathers, great-grandfathers, Rise as kindred should. If ever lover’s loneliness Came where you stood, Pray that Heaven protect us That protect your blood. The mountain throws a shadow, Thin is the moon’s horn; What did we remember Under the ragged thorn? Dread has followed longing, And our hearts are torn....
- The River of Life The more we live, more brief appear Our life’s succeeding stages; A day to childhood seems a year, And years like passing ages. The gladsome current of our youth, Ere passion yet disorders, Steals lingering like a river smooth Along its grassy borders. But as the careworn cheek grows wan, And sorrow’s shafts fly thicker, […]...
- The Maid-Servant At The Inn “It’s queer,” she said; “I see the light As plain as I beheld it then, All silver-like and calm and bright- We’ve not had stars like that again! “And she was such a gentle thing To birth a baby in the cold. The barn was dark and frightening- This new one’s better than the old. […]...
- I felt my life with both my hands I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler I turned my Being round and round And paused at every pound To ask the Owner’s name For doubt, that I should know the Sound I judged my features jarred […]...
- A Miracle For Breakfast At six o’clock we were waiting for coffee, Waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb That was going to be served from a certain balcony -like kings of old, or like a miracle. It was still dark. One foot of the sun Steadied itself on a long ripple in the river. The first ferry of […]...