Salute

Related poetry:

1. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
2. THE SPIRIT'S SALUTE THE hero’s noble shade stands high On yonder turret grey; And as the ship is sailing by, He speeds it on his way. “See with what strength these sinews thrill’d! This heart, how firm and wild! These bones, what knightly marrow fill’d! This cup, how bright it smil’d! “Half of my life I strove and […]...
3. FLOWER-SALUTE THIS nosegay, ’twas I dress’d it, Greets thee a thousand times! Oft stoop’d I, and caress’d it, Ah! full a thousand times, And ‘gainst my bosom press’d it A hundred thousand times! 1815.*...
4. The Little Box The little box gets her first teeth And her little length Little width little emptiness And all the rest she has The little box continues growing The cupboard that she was inside Is now inside her And she grows bigger bigger bigger Now the room is inside her And the house and the city and […]...
5. 487. The Lover's Morning Salute to his Mistress SLEEP’ST thou, or wak’st thou, fairest creature? Rosy morn now lifts his eye, Numbering ilka bud which Nature Waters wi’ the tears o’ joy. Now, to the streaming fountain, Or up the heathy mountain, The hart, hind, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton stray; In twining hazel bowers, Its lay the linnet pours, The laverock to the […]...
6. The Owners Of The Little Box Line the inside of the little box With your precious skin And make yourself cozy Just as you would in your own home Make space voyages inside her Gather stars make time squirt its milk And sleep in the clouds Just don’t go around pretending You’re more important than her length And wiser than her […]...
7. Thinking Of A Friend At Night In this evil year, autumn comes early… I walk by night in the field, alone, the rain clatters, The wind on my hat…And you? And you, my friend? You are standing maybe and seeing the sickle moon Move in a small arc over the forests And bivouac fire, red in the black valley. You are […]...
8. MacGregor's Gathering The moon’s on the lake, and the mist’s on the brae, And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day; Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach! Gather, gather, gather, &c. Our signal for fight, that from monarchs we drew, Must be heard but by night in our vengeful haloo! Then haloo, Grigalach! haloo, Grigalach! […]...
9. From Cocoon forth a Butterfly From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged a Summer Afternoon Repairing Everywhere Without Design that I could trace Except to stray abroad On Miscellaneous Enterprise The Clovers understood Her pretty Parasol be seen Contracting in a Field Where Men made Hay Then struggling hard With an opposing Cloud Where Parties Phantom […]...
10. A Coin YOUR western heads here cast on money, You are the two that fade away together, Partners in the mist. Lunging buffalo shoulder, Lean Indian face, We who come after where you are gone Salute your forms on the new nickel. You are To us: The past. Runners On the prairie: Good-by....
11. I Sang I sang to you and the moon But only the moon remembers. I sang O reckless free-hearted free-throated rythms, Even the moon remembers them And is kind to me....
12. Music Swims Back To Me Wait Mister. Which way is home? They turned the light out And the dark is moving in the corner. There are no sign posts in this room, Four ladies, over eighty, In diapers every one of them. La la la, Oh music swims back to me And I can feel the tune they played The […]...
13. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. As Frost is best conceived As Frost is best conceived By force of its Result Affliction is inferred By subsequent effect If when the sun reveal, The Garden keep the Gash If as the Days resume The wilted countenance Cannot correct the crease Or counteract the stain Presumption is Vitality Was somewhere put in twain....
16. His Bill is clasped his Eye forsook His Bill is clasped his Eye forsook His Feathers wilted low The Claws that clung, like lifeless Gloves Indifferent hanging now The Joy that in his happy Throat Was waiting to be poured Gored through and through with Death, to be Assassin of a Bird Resembles to my outraged mind The firing in Heaven, On […]...
17. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
18. 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...
19. Shenandoah IN the Shenandoah Valley, one rider gray and one rider blue, and the sun on the riders wondering. Piled in the Shenandoah, riders blue and riders gray, piled with shovels, one and another, dust in the Shenandoah taking them quicker than mothers take children done with play. The blue nobody remembers, the gray nobody remembers, […]...
20. Gacela of the Dead Child Each afternoon in Granada, Each afternoon, a child dies. Each afternoon the water sits down And chats with its companions. The dead wear mossy wings. The cloudy wind and the clear wind Are two pheasants in flight through the towers, And the day is a wounded boy. Not a flicker of lark was left in […]...
21. Politeness The English and the French were met Upon the field of future battle; The foes were formidably set And waiting for the guns to rattle; When from the serried ranks of France The English saw with woeful presage Under a flaming flag advance A trumpeter who bore a message. ‘Twas from their Marshal, quite polite, […]...
22. By an Evolutionist By an Evolutionist The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man, And the man said, ‘Am I your debtor?’ And the Lord-‘Not yet; but make it as clean as you can, And then I will let you a better.’ I. If my body come from brutes, my soul uncertain […]...
23. The Gift I want to give you something, my child, for we are drifting in the Stream of the world. Our lives will be carried apart, and our love forgotten. But I am not so foolish as to hope that I could buy your heart With my gifts. Young is your life, your path long, and you […]...
24. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
25. Lying In A Hammock At William Duffy's Farm In Pine Island, Minnesota Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly, Asleep on the black trunk, Blowing like a leaf in green shadow. Down the ravine behind the empty house, The cowbells follow one another Into the distances of the afternoon. To my right, In a field of sunlight between two pines, The droppings of last year’s horses […]...
26. Affinity YOU and I have found the secret way, None can bar our love or say us nay: All the world may stare and never know You and I are twined together so. You and I for all his vaunted width Know the giant Space is but a myth; Over miles and miles of pure deceit […]...
27. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
28. May 24, 1980 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, Carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, Lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis, Dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles. From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives […]...
29. Irreparableness I HAVE been in the meadows all the day And gathered there the nosegay that you see Singing within myself as bird or bee When such do field-work on a morn of May. But, now I look upon my flowers, decay Has met them in my hands more fatally Because more warmly clasped, and sobs […]...
30. Stars, Songs, Faces GATHER the stars if you wish it so. Gather the songs and keep them. Gather the faces of women. Gather for keeping years and years. And then… Loosen your hands, let go and say good-by. Let the stars and songs go. Let the faces and years go. Loosen your hands and say good-by....
31. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
32. Sestina I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth, And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies. Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway I caught the glimmer of a golden goal, While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love. Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed […]...
33. The Evening Primrose You know the bloom, unearthly white, That none has seen by morning light- The tender moon, alone, may bare Its beauty to the secret air. Who’d venture past its dark retreat Must kneel, for holy things and sweet, That blossom, mystically blown, No man may gather for his own Nor touch it, lest it droop […]...
34. To Him that was Crucified MY spirit to yours, dear brother; Do not mind because many, sounding your name, do not understand you; I do not sound your name, but I understand you, (there are others also;) I specify you with joy, O my comrade, to salute you, and to salute those who are with you, before and since-and those […]...
35. Upon The Hill And Grove At Bill-borow To the Lord Fairfax. See how the arched Earth does here Rise in a perfect Hemisphere! The stiffest Compass could not strike A line more circular and like; Nor softest Pensel draw a Brow. So equal as this Hill does bow. It seems as for a Model laid, And that the World by it was […]...
36. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
37. Exeunt Piecemeal the summer dies; At the field’s edge a daisy lives alone; A last shawl of burning lies On a gray field-stone. All cries are thin and terse; The field has droned the summer’s final mass; A cricket like a dwindled hearse Crawls from the dry grass....
38. In Fountain Court The fountain murmuring of sleep, A drowsy tune; The flickering green of leaves that keep The light of June; Peace, through a slumbering afternoon, The peace of June. A waiting ghost, in the blue sky, The white curved moon; June, hushed and breathless, waits, and I Wait too, with June; Come, through the lingering afternoon, […]...
39. The House Of Dust: Part 04: 01: Clairvoyant ‘This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond of? Something he remembers?- The soul flies far, and we can only call it By things like these. . . a photograph, a letter, Ribbon, or charm, or watch. . . ‘ . . . […]...
40. Jennie M'Grew Not, where the stairway turns in the dark, A hooded figure, shriveled under a flowing cloak! Not yellow eyes in the room at night, Staring out from a surface of cobweb gray! And not the flap of a condor wing, When the roar of life in your ears begins As a sound heard never before! […]...