Home ⇒ 📌John Berryman ⇒ Dream Song 8: The weather was fine. They took away his teeth
Dream Song 8: The weather was fine. They took away his teeth
The weather was fine. They took away his teeth,
White & helpful; bothered his backhand;
Halved his green hair.
They blew out his loves, his interests. ‘Underneath,’
(they called in iron voices) ‘understand,
Is nothing. So there.’
The weather was very fine. They lifted off
His covers till he showed, and cringed & pled
To see himself less.
They instaleld mirrors till he flowed. ‘Enough’
(murmmered they) ‘if you will watch Us instead,
Yet you may saved be. Yes.’
The weather fleured. They weakened all his eyes,
And burning thumbs into his ears, and shook
His hand like a notch.
They flung long silent speeches. (Off the hook!)
They sandpapered his plumpest hope. (So capsize.)
They took away his crotch.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- Teeth English Teeth, English Teeth! Shining in the sun A part of British heritage Aye, each and every one. English Teeth, Happy Teeth! Always having fun Clamping down on bits of fish And sausages half done. English Teeth! HEROES’ Teeth! Hear them click! and clack! Let’s sing a song of praise to them – Three Cheers […]...
- Sudden Fine Weather Reader! what soul that laoves a verse can see The spring return, nor glow like you and me? Hear the quick birds, and see the landscape fill, Nor long to utter his melodious will? This more than ever leaps into the veins, When spring has been delay’d by winds and rains, And coming with a […]...
- A Song Of Winter Weather It isn’t the foe that we fear; It isn’t the bullets that whine; It isn’t the business career Of a shell, or the bust of a mine; It isn’t the snipers who seek To nip our young hopes in the bud: No, it isn’t the guns, And it isn’t the Huns It’s the MUD, MUD, […]...
- Once, I knew a fine song Once, I knew a fine song, It is true, believe me It was all of birds, And I held them in a basket; When I opened the wicket, Heavens! They all flew away. I cried, “Come back, little thoughts!” But they only laughed. They flew on Until they were as sand Thrown between me and […]...
- A Process In The Weather Of The Heart A process in the weather of the heart Turns damp to dry; the golden shot Storms in the freezing tomb. A weather in the quarter of the veins Turns night to day; blood in their suns Lights up the living worm. A process in the eye forwarns The bones of blindness; and the womb Drives […]...
- Dream Song 37: Three around the Old Gentleman His malice was a pimple down his good Big face, with its sly eyes. I must be sorry Mr Frost has left: I like it so less I don’t understood— He couldn’t hear or see well—all we sift— But this is a bad story. He had fine stories and was another man In private; difficult, […]...
- Dream Song 65: A freaking ankle crabbed his blissful trips A freaking ankle crabbed his blissful trips, This whiskey tastes like California But is Kentucky, Like Berkeley where he truly worked at it But nothing broke all night—no fires—one dawn, Crowding his luck, Flowed down along the cliffs to the Big Sur Where Henry Miller’s box is vomit-green And Henry bathed in sulphur Lovely, hot, […]...
- Life Is Fine I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn’t, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered! I came up twice and cried! If that water hadn’t a-been so cold I might’ve sunk and died. But it was Cold in that water! […]...
- Dream Song 80: Op. posth. no. 3 It’s buried at a distance, on my insistence, buried. Weather’s severe there, which it will not mind. I miss it. O happies before & during & between the times it got married. I hate the love of leaving it behind, Deteriorating & hopeless that. The great Uh climbed above me, far above me, Doing the […]...
- October's Bright Blue Weather O suns and skies and clouds of June, And flowers of June together, Ye cannot rival for one hour October’s bright blue weather; When loud the bumblebee makes haste, Belated, thriftless vagrant, And goldenrod is dying fast, And lanes with grapes are fragrant; When gentians roll their fingers tight To save them for the morning, […]...
- Dream Song 89: Op. posth. no. 12 In a blue series towards his sleepy eyes They slid like wonder, women tall & small, Of every shape & size, In many languages to lisp ‘We do’ To Henry almost waking. What is the night at all, His closed eyes beckon you. In the Marriage of the Dead, a new routine, He gasped his […]...
- Dream Song 71: Spellbound held subtle Henry all his four Spellbound held subtle Henry all his four Hearers in the racket of the market With ancient signs, infamous characters, New rythms. On the steps he was beloved, Hours a day, by all his four, or more, Depending. And they paid him. It was not, so, like no one listening But critics famed & Henry’s pals […]...
- Dream Song 172: Your face broods Your face broods from my table, Suicide. Your force came on like a torrent toward the end Of agony and wrath. You were christened in the beginning Sylvia Plath And changed that name for Mrs Hughes and bred And went on round the bend Till the oven seemed the proper place for you. I brood […]...
- Dream Song 108: Sixteen below. Our care like stranded hulls Sixteen below. Our care like stranded hulls Litter all day our little Avenues. It was 28 below. No one goes anywhere. Fabulous calls To duty clank. Icy dungeons, though, Have much to mention to you. At Harvard & Yale must Pussy-cat be heard In the dead of winter when we must be sad And feel […]...
- 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 […]...
- Dream Song 124: Behold I bring you tidings of great joy Behold I bring you tidings of great joy— Especially now that the snow & gale are still— For Henry is delivered. Not only is he delivered from the gale But he has a little one. He’s out of jail Also. It is a boy. Henry’s pleasure in this unusual event Reminds me of the extra […]...
- Dream Song 17: Muttered Henry:â€"Lord of matter, thus Muttered Henry:—Lord of matter, thus: Upon some more unquiet spirit knock, My madnesses have cease. All the quarter astonishes a lonely out & back. They set their clocks by Henry House, The steadiest man on the block. And Lucifer:—I smell you for my own, By smug. —What have I tossed you but the least (tho’ […]...
- Fine Apricot Lodge Fine apricot cut for roofbeam Fragrant cogongrass tie for eaves Not know ridgepole in cloud Go make people among rain Fine apricot was cut for the roofbeam, Fragrant cogongrass tied for the eaves. I know not when the cloud from this house Will go to make rain among the people....
- Dream Song 102: The sunburnt terraces which swans make home The sunburnt terraces which swans make home With water purling, Macchu Pichu died Like Delphi long ago— A message to Justinian closing it out, The thousand years’ authority, although Tho’ never found exactly wrong Political patterns did indeed emerge; The Oracle was conservative, like Lippmann, Roared the winds on the height, The Shining Ones behind […]...
- No Swan So Fine “No water so still as the Dead fountains of Versailles.” No swan, With swart blind look askance And gondoliering legs, so fine As the chinz china one with fawn- Brown eyes and toothed gold Collar on to show whose bird it was. Lodged in the Louis Fifteenth Candelabrum-tree of cockscomb- Tinted buttons, dahlias, Sea-urchins, and […]...
- Dream Song 44: Tell it to the forest fire, tell it to the moon Tell it to the forest fire, tell it to the moon, Mention it in general to the moon On the way down, He’s about to have his lady, permanent; And this is the worst of all came ever sent Writhing Henry’s way. Ha ha, fifth column, quisling, genocide, He held his hands & laught from […]...
- Song Of A Dream ONCE in the dream of a night I stood Lone in the light of a magical wood, Soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang; And spirits of Truth were the birds that sang, And spirits of Love were the stars that glowed, And spirits of Peace were the streams that flowed In that magical wood in […]...
- Dream Song 12: Sabbath There is an eye, there was a slit. Nights walk, and confer on him fear. The strangler tree, the dancing mouse Confound his vision; then they loosen it. Henry widens. How did Henry House Himself ever come here? Nights run. Tes yeux bizarres me suivent When loth at landfall soft I leave. The soldiers, Coleridge […]...
- Dream Song 55: Peter's not friendly. He gives me sideways looks Peter’s not friendly. He gives me sideways looks. The architecture is far from reassuring. I feel uneasy. A pity, Гўв‚”the interview began so well: I mentioned fiendish things, he waved them away And sloshed out a martini Strangely needed. We spoke of indifferent mattersГўв‚” God’s health, the vague hell of the Congo, John’s energy, Anti-matter […]...
- Dream Song 111: I miss him. When I get back to camp I miss him. When I get back to camp I’ll dig him up. Well, he can prop & watch, Can’t he, pink or blue, And I will talk to him. I miss him. Slams, Grand or any, aren’t for the tundra much. One face-card will do. It’s marvellous how four sit down—beyond My thought how […]...
- Wet-weather Talk It hain’t no use to grumble and complane; It’s jest as cheap and easy to rejoice. When God sorts out the weather and sends rain, W’y rain’s my choice. Men ginerly, to all intents Although they’re apt to grumble some Puts most theyr trust in Providence, And takes things as they come That is, the […]...
- Dream Song 131: Come touch me baby in his waking dream Come touch me baby in his waking dream Disordered Henry murmured. I’ll read you Hegel And that will hurt your mind I can’t remember when you were unkind But I will clear that block, I’ll set you on fire Along with our babies To save them up the high & ruined stairs, My growing daughters. […]...
- Dream Song 24: Oh servant Henry lectured till Oh servant Henry lectured till The crows commenced and then He bulbed his voice & lectured on some more. This happened again & again, like war, — The Indian p. a.’s, such as they were, A weapon on his side, for the birds. Vexations held a field-monsoon. He was Introduced, and then he was Summed-up. […]...
- Dream Song 4: Filling her compact & delicious body Filling her compact & delicious body With chicken páprika, she glanced at me Twice. Fainting with interest, I hungered back And only the fact of her husband & four other people Kept me from springing on her Or falling at her little feet and crying ‘You are the hottest one for years of night Henry’s […]...
- Dream Song 78: Op. posth. no. 1 Darkened his eye, his wild smile disappeared, Inapprehensible his studies grew, Nourished he less & less His subject body with good food & rest, Something bizarre about Henry, slowly sheared Off, unlike you & you, Smaller & smaller, till in question stood His eyeteeth and one block of memories These were enough for him Implying […]...
- Dream Song 132: A Small Dream A Small Dream It was only a small dream of the Golden World, Now you trot off to bed. I’ll turn the machine off, You’ve danced & trickt us enough. Unintelligible whines & imprecations, hurled From the second floor, fail to impress your mother And I am the only other And I say go to […]...
- Dream Song 21: Some good people, daring & subtle voices Some good people, daring & subtle voices And their tense faces, as I think of it I see sank underground. I see. My radar digs. I do not dig. Cool their flushing blood, them eyes is shut— Eyes? Appalled: by all the dead: Henry brooded. Without exception! All. ALL. The senior population waits. Come down! […]...
- Modern Love XXIII: 'Tis Christmas Weather ‘Tis Christmas weather, and a country house Receives us: rooms are full: we can but get An attic-crib. Such lovers will not fret At that, it is half-said. The great carouse Knocks hard upon the midnight’s hollow door, But when I knock at hers, I see the pit. Why did I come here in that […]...
- A FINE MADNESS Any poets about or bored muses fancying a day out? Rainy, windy, cold Leeds City Station Half-way through its slow chaotic transformation Contractors’ morning break, overalls, hard hats and harness Flood McDonalds where I sip my tea and try to translate Valйry. London has everything except my bardic inspiration I’ve only to step off the […]...
- Dream Song 81: Op. posth. no. 4 He loom’ so cagey he say ‘Leema beans’ And measured his intake to the atmosphere Of that fairly stable country. His ear hurt. Left. The rock-cliffs, a mite sheer At his age, in these places. Scrubbing out his fear, — The knowledge that they will take off your hands, Both hands; as well as your […]...
- Dream Song 29: There sat down, once, a thing There sat down, once, a thing on Henry’s heart Só heavy, if he had a hundred years & more, & weeping, sleepless, in all them time Henry could not make good. Starts again always in Henry’s ears The little cough somewhere, an odour, a chime. And there is another thing he has in mind Like […]...
- Dream Song 125: Bards freezing, naked, up to the neck in water Bards freezing, naked, up to the neck in water, Wholly in dark, time limited, different from Initiations now: The class in writing, clothed & dry & light, Unlimited time, till Poetry takes some, Nobody reads them though, No trumpets, no solemn instauration, no change; No commissions, ladies high in soulful praise (pal) none, Costumes as […]...
- Dream Song 22: Of 1826 I am the little man who smokes & smokes. I am the girl who does know better but. I am the king of the pool. I am so wise I had my mouth sewn shut. I am a government official & a goddamned fool. I am a lady who takes jokes. I am the enemy […]...
- Dream Song 171: Go, ill-sped book, and whisper to her or Go, ill-sped book, and whisper to her or Storm out the message for her only ear That she is beautiful. Mention sunsets, be not silent of her eyes And mouth and other prospects, praise her size, Say her figure is full. Say her small figure is heavenly & full, So as stunned Henry yatters like […]...
- Dream Song 32: And where, friend Quo, lay you hiding And where, friend Quo, lay you hiding Across malignant half my years or so? One evil faery It was workt night, with amoroso pleasing Menace, the panes shake Where Lie-by-the-fire is waiting for his cream. A tiger by a torrent in rain, wind, Narrows fiend’s eyes for grief In an old ink-on-silk, Reminding me of […]...