Finding A Long Gray Hair

Related poetry:

1. Crisis is a Hair Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep To suspend the Breath Is the most we can Ignorant is it Life or Death Nicely balancing. Let an instant push Or an Atom press Or a Circle hesitate In Circumference It may jolt the Hand That […]...
2. Risk is the Hair that holds the Tun Risk is the Hair that holds the Tun Seductive in the Air That Tun is hollow but the Tun With Hundred Weights to spare Too ponderous to suspect the snare Espies that fickle chair And seats itself to be let go By that perfidious Hair The “foolish Tun” the Critics say While that delusive Hair […]...
3. Big Hair Ithaca, October 1993: Jorie went on a lingerie Tear, wanting to look like a moll In a Chandler novel. Dinner, consisting of three parts gin And one part lime juice cordial, was a prelude to her hair. There are, she said, poems that can be written Only when the poet is clad in black underwear. […]...
4. Women Washing Their Hair THEY have painted and sung The women washing their hair, And the plaits and strands in the sun, And the golden combs And the combs of elephant tusks And the combs of buffalo horn and hoof. The sun has been good to women, Drying their heads of hair As they stooped and shook their shoulders […]...
5. Looking For A Monk And Not Finding Him I took a small path leading Up a hill valley, finding there A temple, its gate covered With moss, and in front of The door but tracks of birds; In the room of the old monk No one was living, and I Staring through the window Saw but a hair duster hanging On the wall, […]...
6. Sonnet 18 – I never gave a lock of hair away I never gave a lock of hair away To a man, Dearest, except this to thee, Which now upon my fingers thoughtfully, I ring out to the full brown length and say ‘Take it.’ My day of youth went yesterday; My hair no longer bounds to my foot’s glee, Nor plant I it from rose […]...
7. Dream Song 176: All that hair flashing over All that hair flashing over the Atlantic, Henry’s girl’s gone. She’ll find Paris a sweet place As many times he did. She’s there now, having left yesterday. I held Her cousin’s hand, all innocence, on the climb to the tower. Her cousin is if possible more beautiful than she is. All over the world grades […]...
8. Apology To Delia: For Desiring A Lock Of Her Hair Delia, the unkindest girl on earth, When I besought the fair, That favour of intrinsic worth A ringlet of her hair, Refused that instant to comply With my absurd request, For reasons she could specify, Some twenty score at least. Trust me, my dear, however odd It may appear to say, I sought it merely […]...
9. Her face was in a bed of hair Her face was in a bed of hair, Like flowers in a plot Her hand was whiter than the sperm That feeds the sacred light. Her tongue more tender than the tune That totters in the leaves Who hears may be incredulous, Who witnesses, believes....
10. Little Sleep's-Head Sprouting Hair In The Moonlight 1 You scream, waking from a nightmare. When I sleepwalk Into your room, and pick you up, And hold you up in the moonlight, you cling to me Hard, As if clinging could save us. I think You think I will never die, I think I exude To you the permanence of smoke or stars, […]...
11. Upon Julia's Hair Filled With Dew Dew sat on Julia’s hair, And spangled too, Like leaves that laden are With trembling dew. Or glittered to my sight, As when the beams Have their reflected light Danced by the streams....
12. George Gray I have studied many times The marble which was chiseled for me A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor. In truth it pictures not my destination But my life. For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment; Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid; Ambition called […]...
13. Degrees Of Gray In Philipsburg You might come here Sunday on a whim. Say your life broke down. The last good kiss You had was years ago. You walk these streets Laid out by the insane, past hotels That didn’t last, bars that did, the tortured try Of local drivers to accelerate their lives. Only churches are kept up. The […]...
14. Lolotte, Who Attires My Hair Lolotte, who attires my hair, Lost her lover. Lolotte weeps; Trails her hand before her eyes; Hangs her head and mopes and sighs, Mutters of the pangs of hell. Fills the circumambient air With her plaints and her despair. Looks at me: ‘May you never know, Mam’selle Love’s harsh cruelty.’...
15. Finding From the candles and dumb shadows, And the house where love had died, I stole to the vast moonlight And the whispering life outside. But I found no lips of comfort, No home in the moon’s light (I, little and lone and frightened In the unfriendly night), And no meaning in the voices. . . […]...
16. To Amarantha, That She Would Dishevel Her Hair Amarantha, sweet and fair, Ah, braid no more that shining hair! As my curious hand or eye Hovering round thee, let it fly! Let it fly as unconfined As its calm ravisher the wind, Who hath left his darling th’ East, To wanton o’er that spicy nest. Every tress must be confessed But neatly tangled […]...
17. To Robert Batty, M. D., on His Giving Me a Lock of Milton's Hair It lies before me there, and my own breath Stirs its thin outer threads, as though beside The living head I stood in honoured pride, Talking of lovely things that conquer death. Perhaps he pressed it once, or underneath Ran his fine fingers when he leant, blank-eyed, And saw in fancy Adam and his bride […]...
18. Finding is the first Act Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece” Fourth, no Discovery Fifth, no Crew Finally, no Golden Fleece Jason sham too....
19. Range-Finding The battle rent a cobweb diamond-strung And cut a flower beside a ground bird’s nest Before it stained a single human breast. The stricken flower bent double and so hung. And still the bird revisited her young. A butterfly its fall had dispossessed A moment sought in air his flower of rest, Then lightly stooped […]...
20. Such, Such Is Death Such, such is Death: no triumph: no defeat: Only an empty pail, a slate rubbed clean, A merciful putting away of what has been. And this we know: Death is not Life, effete, Life crushed, the broken pail. We who have seen So marvellous things know well the end not yet. Victor and vanquished are […]...
21. Faithless Nelly Gray A Pathetic Ballad Ben Battle was a soldier bold, And used to war’s alarms; But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms. Now as they bore him off the field, Said he, ‘Let others shoot; For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot.’ The army-surgeons made him […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. 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 […]...
24. Gray Room Although you sit in a room that is gray, Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your green fan Printed with the red branches of a red willow; Or, with one […]...
25. The Old Gray Wall Time out of mind I have stood Fronting the frost and the sun, That the dream of the world might endure, And the goodly will be done. Did the hand of the builder guess, As he laid me stone by stone, A heart in the granite lurked, Patient and fond as his own? Lovers have […]...
26. Duncan Gray Duncan Gray cam here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, On blythe Yule Night when we were fu’, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, Maggie coost her head fu’ high, Looked asklent and unco skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh; Ha, ha, the wooing o’t. Duncan fleeched, and Duncan prayed; Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, […]...
27. Autumn Perspective Now, moving in, cartons on the floor, The radio playing to bare walls, Picture hooks left stranded In the unsoiled squares where paintings were, And something reminding us This is like all other moving days; Finding the dirty ends of someone else’s life, Hair fallen in the sink, a peach pit, And burned-out matches in […]...
28. Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain Oh, gray and tender is the rain, That drips, drips on the pane! A hundred things come in the door, The scent of herbs, the thought of yore. I see the pool out in the grass, A bit of broken glass; The red flags running wet and straight, Down to the little flapping gate. Lombardy […]...
29. 510. Song-Fragment-Wee Willie Gray WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet, Peel a willow wand to be him boots and jacket; The rose upon the breir will be him trews an’ doublet, The rose upon the breir will be him trews an’ doublet, Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet, Twice a lily-flower will be him sark and cravat; […]...
30. To a Lock of Hair Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright As in that well – remember’d night When first thy mystic braid was wove, And first my Agnes whisper’d love. Since then how often hast thou prest The torrid zone of this wild breast, Whose wrath and hate have sworn to dwell With the first sin that […]...
31. 389. Song-Duncan Gray DUNCAN GRAY cam’ here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, On blythe Yule-night when we were fou, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, Maggie coost her head fu’ heigh, Look’d asklent and unco skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh; Ha, ha, the wooing o’t. Duncan fleech’d and Duncan pray’d; Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, Meg […]...
32. What the Gray-Winged Fairy Said The moon’s a gong, hung in the wild, Whose song the fays hold dear. Of course you do not hear it, child. It takes a FAIRY ear. The full moon is a splendid gong That beats as night grows still. It sounds above the evening song Of dove or whippoorwill....
33. Bells Of Gray Crystal Bells of gray crystal Break on each bough The swans’ breath will mist all The cold airs now. Like tall pagodas Two people go, Trail their long codas Of talk through the snow. Lonely are these And lonely and I…. The clouds, gray Chinese geese Sleek through the sky....
34. I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair Don’t go far off, not even for a day Don’t go far off, not even for a day, Because I don’t know how to say it – a day is long And I will be waiting for you, as in An empty station when the trains are Parked off somewhere else, asleep. Don’t leave me, […]...
35. 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...
36. Uprooting My love, while we talked They removed the roof. Then They started on the walls, Panes of glass uprooting From timber, like teeth. But you spoke calmly on, Your example of courtesy Compelling me to reply. When we reached the last Syllable, nearly accepting Our positions, I saw that The floorboards were gone: It was […]...
37. A little Snow was here and there A little Snow was here and there Disseminated in her Hair Since she and I had met and played Decade had gathered to Decade But Time had added not obtained Impregnable the Rose For summer too indelible Too obdurate for Snows...
38. Raccoon Coon, why did you come to this dance With a mask on? Why not the tin man And his rainbow girl? Why not Racine, His hair marcelled down to his chest? Why not come as a stomach digesting Its worms? Why you little fellow With your ears at attention and your Nose poking up like […]...
39. Growing Old What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? Is it for beauty to forego her wreath? Yes, but not for this alone. Is it to feel our strength – Not our bloom only, but our strength-decay? Is it to feel each limb Grow […]...
40. Two Sonnets I SAINTS have adored the lofty soul of you. Poets have whitened at your high renown. We stand among the many millions who Do hourly wait to pass your pathway down. You, so familiar, once were strange: we tried To live as of your presence unaware. But now in every road on every side We […]...