I've a Pain in my Head

Related poetry:

1. On Pain Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses Your understanding. Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its Heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain. And could you keep your heart in wonder at the Daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem Less […]...
2. Pain has an Element of Blank Pain has an Element of Blank It cannot recollect When it begun or if there were A time when it was not It has no Future but itself Its Infinite contain Its Past enlightened to perceive New Periods of Pain....
3. Walking To Oak-Head Pond, And Thinking Of The Ponds I Will Visit In The Next Days And Weeks What is so utterly invisible As tomorrow? Not love, Not the wind, Not the inside of a stone. Not anything. And yet, how often I’m fooled I’m wading along In the sunlight And I’m sure I can see the fields and the ponds shining Days ahead I can see the light spilling Like a shower […]...
4. Pain has but one Acquaintance Pain has but one Acquaintance And that is Death Each one unto the other Society enough. Pain is the Junior Party By just a Second’s right Death tenderly assists Him And then absconds from Sight....
5. Pain expands the Time Pain expands the Time Ages coil within The minute Circumference Of a single Brain Pain contracts the Time Occupied with Shot Gamuts of Eternities Are as they were not...
6. I Will Be Worthy Of It It I may not reach the heights I seek, My untried strength may fail me; Or, halfway up the mountain peak Fierce tempests may assail me. But though that place I never gain, Herein lies the comfort for my pain – I will be worthy of it. I may not triumph in success, Despite my […]...
7. 'Twas the old road through pain ‘Twas the old road through pain That unfrequented one With many a turn and thorn That stops at Heaven This was the Town she passed There where she rested last Then stepped more fast The little tracks close prest Then not so swift Slow slow as feet did weary grow Then stopped no other track! […]...
8. Painted Head By dark severance the apparition head Smiles from the air a capital on no Column or a Platonic perhaps head On a canvas sky depending from nothing; Stirs up an old illusion of grandeur By tickling the instinct of heads to be Absolute and to try decapitation And to play truant from the body bush; […]...
9. The Grave of the Hundered Head There’s a widow in sleepy Chester Who weeps for her only son; There’s a grave on the Pabeng River, A grave that the Burmans shun, And there’s Subadar Prag Tewarri Who tells how the work was done. A Snider squibbed in the jungle, Somebody laughed and fled, And the men of the First Shikaris Picked […]...
10. The Inauguration of the University College Good people of Dundee, your voices raise, And to Miss Baxter give great praise; Rejoice and sing and dance with glee, Because she has founded a College in Bonnie Dundee. Therefore loudly in her praise sing, And make Dundee with your voices ring, And give honour to whom honour is due, Because ladies like her […]...
11. The Big Boots Of Pain There can be certain potions Needled in the clock For the body’s fall from grace, To untorture and to plead for. These I have known And would sell all my furniture And books and assorted goods To avoid, and more, more. But the other pain I would sell my life to avoid The pain that […]...
12. There is a pain so utter There is a pain so utter It swallows substance up Then covers the Abyss with Trance So Memory can step Around across upon it As one within a Swoon Goes safely where an open eye Would drop Him Bone by Bone....
13. The hallowing of Pain The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost The Summit is not given To Him who strives severe At middle of the Hill But He who has achieved the Top All is the price of All...
14. Pain MEN have made them gods of love, Sun-gods, givers of the rain, Deities of hill and grove: I have made a god of Pain. Of my god I know this much, And in singing I repeat, Though there’s anguish in his touch, Yet his soul within is sweet....
15. To Spend Uncounted Years Of Pain To spend uncounted years of pain Again, again, and yet again In working out in heart and brain The problem of our being here, To gather facts from far and near Upon the mind to hold them clear, And knowing more may yet appear Until one’s latest breath to fear The premature result to draw […]...
16. If pain for peace prepares If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise, Can the Anemones Be reckoned up? If night stands fast then noon To gird us for the sun, What gaze! When from a thousand skies On our developed eyes Noons blaze!...
17. If ever the lid gets off my head If ever the lid gets off my head And lets the brain away The fellow will go where he belonged Without a hint from me, And the world if the world be looking on Will see how far from home It is possible for sense to live The soul there all the time....
18. To hang our head ostensibly To hang our head ostensibly And subsequent, to find That such was not the posture Of our immortal mind Affords the sly presumption That in so dense a fuzz You too take Cobweb attitudes Upon a plane of Gauze!...
19. To learn the Transport by the Pain To learn the Transport by the Pain As Blind Men learn the sun! To die of thirst suspecting That Brooks in Meadows run! To stay the homesick homesick feet Upon a foreign shore Haunted by native lands, the while And blue beloved air! This is the Sovereign Anguish! This the signal woe! These are the […]...
20. Here, where the Daisies fit my Head Here, where the Daisies fit my Head ‘Tis easiest to lie And every Grass that plays outside Is sorry, some, for me. Where I am not afraid to go I may confide my Flower Who was not Enemy of Me Will gentle be, to Her. Nor separate, Herself and Me By Distances become A single […]...
21. After great pain, a formal feeling comes After great pain, a formal feeling comes The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, And Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go round Of Ground, or Air, or Ought A Wooden way Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone This is the Hour of Lead […]...
22. I cried at Pity not at Pain I cried at Pity not at Pain I heard a Woman say “Poor Child” and something in her voice Convicted me of me So long I fainted, to myself It seemed the common way, And Health, and Laughter, Curious things To look at, like a Toy To sometimes hear “Rich people” buy And see the […]...
23. As the Team's Head – Brass As the team’s head-brass flashed out on the turn The lovers disappeared into the wood. I sat among the boughs of the fallen elm That strewed the angle of the fallow, and Watched the plough narrowing a yellow square Of charlock. Every time the horses turned Instead of treading me down, the ploughman leaned Upon […]...
24. Joy to have merited the Pain Joy to have merited the Pain To merit the Release Joy to have perished every step To Compass Paradise Pardon to look upon thy face With these old fashioned Eyes Better than new could be for that Though bought in Paradise Because they looked on thee before And thou hast looked on them Prove Me […]...
25. A Baby Asleep after Pain As a drenched, drowned bee Hangs numb and heavy from a bending flower, So clings to me My baby, her brown hair brushed with wet tears And laid against her cheek; Her soft white legs hanging heavily over my arm Swinging heavily to my movements as I walk. My sleeping baby hangs upon my life, […]...
26. To The God of Pain UNWILLING priestess in thy cruel fane, Long hast thou held me, pitiless god of Pain, Bound to thy worship by reluctant vows, My tired breast girt with suffering, and my brows Anointed with perpetual weariness. Long have I borne thy service, through the stress Of rigorous years, sad days and slumberless nights, Performing thine inexorable […]...
27. HUGHES' VOICE IN MY HEAD As soon as we crossed into Yorkshire Hughes’ voice assailed me, unmistakable Gravel and honey, a raw celebration of rain Like a tattered lacework window; Black glisten on roof slates, Tarmac turned to shining ice, Blusters of naked wind whipping The wavelets of shifting water To imaginary floating islets On the turbulent river Glumly he […]...
28. As I lay with Head in your Lap, Camerado AS I lay with my head in your lap, Camerado, The confession I made I resume-what I said to you in the open air I resume: I know I am restless, and make others so; I know my words are weapons, full of danger, full of death; (Indeed I am myself the real soldier; It […]...
29. The Dormouse and the Doctor There once was a Dormouse who lived in a bed Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red), And all the day long he’d a wonderful view Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue). A Doctor came hurrying round, and he said: “Tut-tut, I am sorry to find you in bed. Just say ‘Ninety-nine’ while I look at […]...
30. Miss Lloyd has now went to Miss Green Miss Lloyd has now sent to Miss Green, As, on opening the box, may be seen, Some years of a Black Ploughman’s Gauze, To be made up directly, because Miss Lloyd must in mourning appear For the death of a Relative dear Miss Lloyd must expect to receive This license to mourn and to grieve, […]...
31. On The Yong Baronett Portman Dying Of An Impostume In's Head Is Death so cunning now that all her blowe Aymes at the heade? Doth now her wary Bowe Make surer worke than heertofore? The steele Slew warlike heroes onely in the heele. New found out slights, when men themselves begin To be theyr proper Fates by new found sinne. Tis cowardize to make a wound […]...
32. 99. To a Louse HA! whaur ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie? Your impudence protects you sairly; I canna say but ye strunt rarely, Owre gauze and lace; Tho’, faith! I fear ye dine but sparely On sic a place. Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner, Detested, shunn’d by saunt an’ sinner, How daur ye set your fit upon her- Sae […]...
33. 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 […]...
34. 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 […]...
35. To My Wife Choice of you shuts up that peacock-fan The future was, in which temptingly spread All that elaborative nature can. Matchless potential! but unlimited Only so long as I elected nothing; Simply to choose stopped all ways up but one, And sent the tease-birds from the bushes flapping. No future now. I and you now, alone. […]...
36. HERODIAS Daughter presenting to her Mother St. JOHN's Head in a Charger, also Painted by her self BEhold, dear Mother, who was late our Fear, Disarm’d and Harmless, I present you here; The Tongue ty’d up, that made all Jury quake, And which so often did our Greatness shake; No Terror sits upon his Awful Brow, Where Fierceness reign’d, there Calmness triumphs now; As Lovers use, he gazes on my Face, With […]...
37. A Bronze Head Here at right of the entrance this bronze head, Human, superhuman, a bird’s round eye, Everything else withered and mummy-dead. What great tomb-haunter sweeps the distant sky (Something may linger there though all else die;) And finds there nothing to make its tetror less Hysterica passio of its own emptiness? No dark tomb-haunter once; her […]...
38. 46. The Belles of Mauchline IN Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles, The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a’; Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess, In Lon’on or Paris, they’d gotten it a’. Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland’s divine, Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw: There’s beauty and fortune to […]...
39. To A Louse ON SEEING ONE ON A LADY’S BONNET AT CHURCH Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie! Your impudence protects you sairly: I canna say but ye strunt rarely Owre gauze and lace; Tho’ faith, I fear ye dine but sparely On sic a place. Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner, Detested, shunned by saunt an’ sinner, […]...
40. A Time to Weep I suppose you could call me heartless As a dull anvil clanking in a sodden barn, The damp wood too lazy to echo your pain; And your limbs twisted like great roots, Your hearts rank melons bursting with fluid, Your tidal headaches, your equatorial fevers Were all grist for my scientific mill, My hands cold […]...