A list of some observation

Related poetry:

1. Whoso List to Hunt Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind, But as for me, helas! I may no more. The vain travail hath worried me so sore, I am of them that furthest come behind. Yet may I by no means, my worried mind Draw from the deer; but as she fleeth afore Fainting I […]...
2. The List of Famous Hats Napoleon’s hat is an obvious choice I guess to list as a famous Hat, but that’s not the hat I have in mind. That was his hat for Show. I am thinking of his private bathing cap, which in all hon- Esty wasn’t much different than the one any jerk might buy at a Corner […]...
3. Now List to my Morning's Romanza 1 NOW list to my morning’s romanza-I tell the signs of the Answerer; To the cities and farms I sing, as they spread in the sunshine before me. A young man comes to me bearing a message from his brother; How shall the young man know the whether and when of his brother? Tell him […]...
4. Observation If I don’t drive around the park, I’m pretty sure to make my mark. If I’m in bed each night by ten, I may get back my looks again, If I abstain from fun and such, I’ll probably amount to much, But I shall stay the way I am, Because I do not give a […]...
5. Unfulfilled to Observation Unfulfilled to Observation Incomplete to Eye But to Faith a Revolution In Locality Unto Us the Suns extinguish To our Opposite New Horizons they embellish Fronting Us with Night....
6. Here the Frailest Leaves of Me HERE the frailest leaves of me, and yet my strongest-lasting: Here I shade and hide my thoughts-I myself do not expose them, And yet they expose me more than all my other poems....
7. Observation Car To be put on the train and kissed and given my ticket, Then the station slid backward, the shops and the neon lighting, Reeling off in a drunken blur, with a whole pound note in my pocket And the holiday packed with Perhaps. It used to be very exciting. The present and past were enough. […]...
8. Under Cover of Night To slip into your shadow under cover of night. To follow your footsteps, your shadow at the window. That shadow at the window is you and no one else; It’s you. Do not open that window behind whose curtains you’re moving. Shut your eyes. I’d like to shut them with my lips. But the window […]...
9. For A Poet I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth, And laid them away in a box of gold; Where long will cling the lips of the moth, I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth; I hide no hate; I am not even wroth Who found the earth’s breath so keen and cold; I […]...
10. Shit List; Or, Omnium-gatherum Of Diversity Into Unity You’ll rejoice at how many kinds of shit there are: Gosling shit (which J. Williams said something Was as green as), fish shit (the generality), trout Shit, rainbow trout shit (for the nice), mullet shit, Sand dab shit, casual sloth shit, elephant shit (awesome as process or payload), wildebeest shit, Horse shit (a favorite), caterpillar […]...
11. October Beauty has a tarnished dress, And a patchwork cloak of cloth Dipped deep in mournfulness, Striped like a moth. Wet grass where it trails Dyes it green along the hem; She has seven silver veils With cracked bells on them. She is tired of all these Grey gauze, translucent lawn; The broad cloak of Herakles. […]...
12. Quia Absurdum Guard yourself from the terrible empty light of space, the bottomless Pool of the stars. (Expose yourself to it: you might learn something.) Guard yourself from perceiving the inherent nastiness of man and woman. (Expose yourself to it: you might learn something.) Faith, as they now confess, is preposterous, an act of will. Choose the […]...
13. Out Of The Watercolored Window, When You Look When from the watercolored window idly you look Each is but and clear to see, not steep: So does the neat print in an actual book Marching as if to true conclusion, reap The illimitable blue immensely overhead, The night of the living and the day of the dead. I drive in an auto all […]...
14. Wind and Window Flower LOVERS, forget your love, And list to the love of these, She a window flower, And he a winter breeze. When the frosty window veil Was melted down at noon, And the cagèd yellow bird Hung over her in tune, He marked her through the pane, He could not help but mark, And only passed […]...
15. HIS MISTRESS TO HIM AT HIS FAREWELL You may vow I’ll not forget To pay the debt Which to thy memory stands as due As faith can seal it you. Take then tribute of my tears; So long as I have fears To prompt me, I shall ever Languish and look, but thy return see never. Oh then to lessen my despair, […]...
16. Every Silent Plant in the Garden (To: S. W.) Every silent plant in the garden knows Two sorts of wishes make up the world: One is conceived in heaven, the other in hell The earth buttoned its lip, too humble to tell With regard to intent, millionaires are all Yet about prayers, most of us ignorant children Undiscerning of whatever come […]...
17. A Dead Boche To you who’d read my songs of War And only hear of blood and fame, I’ll say (you’ve heard it said before) ВЂќWar’s Hell! ” and if you doubt the same, Today I found in Mametz Wood A certain cure for lust of blood: Where, propped against a shattered trunk, In a great mess of […]...
18. Lost Love His eyes are quickened so with grief, He can watch a grass or leaf Every instant grow; he can Clearly through a flint wall see, Or watch the startled spirit flee From the throat of a dead man. Across two counties he can hear And catch your words before you speak. The woodlouse or the […]...
19. Model For The Laureate On thrones from China to Peru All sorts of kings have sat That men and women of all sorts Proclaimed both good and great; And what’s the odds if such as these For reason of the State Should keep their lovers waiting, Keep their lovers waiting? Some boast of beggar-kings and kings Of rascals black […]...
20. Mother, I cannot mind my Wheel MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel; My fingers ache, my lips are dry: O, if you felt the pain I feel! But O, who ever felt as I? No longer could I doubt him true All other men may use deceit; He always said my eyes were blue, And often swore my lips were sweet....
21. Who Ever Felt as I? Mother, I cannot mind my wheel; My fingers ache, my lips are dry: Oh! if you felt the pain I feel! But oh, who ever felt as I? No longer could I doubt him true; All other men may use deceit: He always said my eyes were blue, And often swore my lips were sweet....
22. In a Vale WHEN I was young, we dwelt in a vale By a misty fen that rang all night, And thus it was the maidens pale I knew so well, whose garments trail Across the reeds to a window light. The fen had every kind of bloom, And for every kind there was a face, And a […]...
23. The Woman At The Washington Zoo The saris go by me from the embassies. Cloth from the moon. Cloth from another planet. They look back at the leopard like the leopard. And I. . . . this print of mine, that has kept its color Alive through so many cleanings; this dull null Navy I wear to work, and wear from […]...
24. The House of Socrates FOR Socrates a House was built, Of but inferiour Size; Not highly Arch’d, nor Carv’d, nor Gilt; The Man, ’tis said, was Wise. But Mob despis’d the little Cell, That struck them with no Fear; Whilst Others thought, there should not dwell So great a Person there. How shou’d a due Recourse be made To […]...
25. Gloire de Dijon When she rises in the morning I linger to watch her; She spreads the bath-cloth underneath the window And the sunbeams catch her Glistening white on the shoulders, While down her sides the mellow Golden shadow glows as She stoops to the sponge, and her swung breasts Sway like full-blown yellow Gloire de Dijon roses. […]...
26. Half-And-Half You can’t be, says a Palestinian Christian On the first feast day after Ramadan. So, half-and-half and half-and-half. He sells glass. He knows about broken bits, Chips. If you love Jesus you can’t love Anyone else. Says he. At his stall of blue pitchers on the Via Dolorosa, He’s sweeping. The rubbed stones Feel holy. […]...
27. Bells For John Whiteside's Daughter There was such speed in her little body, And such lightness in her footfall, It is no wonder her brown study Astonishes us all Her wars were bruited in our high window. We looked among orchard trees and beyond Where she took arms against her shadow, Or harried unto the pond The lazy geese, like […]...
28. August When my eyes are weeds, And my lips are petals, spinning Down the wind that has beginning Where the crumpled beeches start In a fringe of salty reeds; When my arms are elder-bushes, And the rangy lilac pushes Upward, upward through my heart; Summer, do your worst! Light your tinsel moon, and call on Your […]...
29. Music The neighbour sits in his window and plays the flute. From my bed I can hear him, And the round notes flutter and tap about the room, And hit against each other, Blurring to unexpected chords. It is very beautiful, With the little flute-notes all about me, In the darkness. In the daytime, The neighbour […]...
30. SELF-DECEIT My neighbour’s curtain, well I see, Is moving to and fin. No doubt she’s list’ning eagerly, If I’m at home or no. And if the jealous grudge I bore And openly confess’d, Is nourish’d by me as before, Within my inmost breast. Alas! no fancies such as these E’er cross’d the dear child’s thoughts. I […]...
31. Village in Late Summer LIPS half-willing in a doorway. Lips half-singing at a window. Eyes half-dreaming in the walls. Feet half-dancing in a kitchen. Even the clocks half-yawn the hours And the farmers make half-answers....
32. This Window is This window is confidence, Documenting proceedings, Capturing moments, Cleansing views Challenging sentiment. This window is nourishment Filling the eyes With strong drink, And acidly piercing Over-elaborate structures. This window is furniture Re-hung like a picture, Recording new outlooks When the old pleases No more. This window is doorway To feelings, Good feelings and bad, All […]...
33. The Jewel Stairs' Grievance The jewelled steps are already quite white with dew, It is so late that the dew soaks my gauze stockings, And I let down the crystal curtain And watch the moon through the clear autumn....
34. Crow's Nerve Fails Crow, feeling his brain slip, Finds his every feather the fossil of a murder. Who murdered all these? These living dead, that root in his nerves and his blood Till he is visibly black? How can he fly from his feathers? And why have they homed on him? Is he the archive of their accusations? […]...
35. As We Are So Wonderfully Done With Each Other As we are so wonderfully done with each other We can walk into our separate sleep On floors of music where the milkwhite cloak of childhood Lies Oh my love, my golden lark, my soft long doll Your lips have splashed my dull house with print of flowers My hands are crooked where they spilled […]...
36. Lullaby It is a summer evening. The yellow moths sag Against the locked screens And the faded curtains Suck over the window sills And from another building A goat calls in his dreams. This is the TV parlor In the best ward at Bedlam. The night nurse is passing Out the evening pills. She walks on […]...
37. Fear The host, he says that all is well And the fire-wood glow is bright; The food has a warm and tempting smell,- But on the window licks the night. Pile on the logs… Give me your hands, Friends! No,- it is not fright… But hold me… somewhere I heard demands… And on the window licks […]...
38. Profane Poet Oh how it would enable me To titillate my vanity If you should choose to label me A Poet of Profanity! For I’ve been known with vulgar slang To stoke the Sacred Fire, And even used a word like ‘hang’, Suggesting ire. Yea, I’ve been slyly told, although It savours of inanity, In print the […]...
39. His Feet are shod with Gauze His Feet are shod with Gauze His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid. His Labor is a Chant His Idleness a Tune Oh, for a Bee’s experience Of Clovers, and of Noon!...
40. 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!...