Amanda's Painting

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet 83: I never saw that you did painting need I never saw that you did painting need, And therefore to your fair no painting set; I found, or thought I found, you did exceed That barren tender of a poet’s debt; And therefore have I slept in your report, That you yourself being extant well might show How far a modern quill doth come […]...
2. Fishing On The Susquehanna In July I have never been fishing on the Susquehanna Or on any river for that matter To be perfectly honest. Not in July or any month Have I had the pleasure if it is a pleasure Of fishing on the Susquehanna. I am more likely to be found In a quiet room like this one A […]...
3. South Country After the whey-faced anonymity Of river-gums and scribbly-gums and bush, After the rubbing and the hit of brush, You come to the South Country As if the argument of trees were done, The doubts and quarrelling, the plots and pains, All ended by these clear and gliding planes Like an abrupt solution. And over the […]...
4. Slant Yesterday, for a long while, The early morning sunlight In the trees was sufficient, Replaced by a hello From a long-limbed woman Pedaling her bike, Whereupon the wind came up, Dispersing the mosquitoes. Blessings, all. I’d come so far, it seemed, Happily looking for so little. But then I saw a cow in a room […]...
5. Puritans Sidling upon the river, the white boat Has volleyed with its cannon all the morning, Shaken the shore towns like a Judgment warning, Telling the palsied water its demand That the crime come to the top again, and float, That the sunk murder rise to the light and land. Blam! In the noon’s perfected brilliance […]...
6. The Kessack Ferry-Boat Fatality ‘Twas on Friday the 2nd of March, in the year of 1894, That the Storm Fiend did loudly laugh and roar Along the Black Isle and the Kessack Ferry shore, Whereby six men were drowned, which their friends will deplore. The accident is the most serious that has occurred for many years, And their relatives […]...
7. Balmoral Castle Beautiful Balmoral Castle, Most handsome to be seen, Highland home of the Empress of India, Great Britain’s Queen. Your woods and waters and Mountains high are most Beautiful to see, Near by Balmoral Castle And the dark river Dee. Then there’s the hill of Cairngorm To be seen from afar, And the beautiful heathery hills […]...
8. The Floods The rain it rains without a stay In the hills above us, in the hills; And presently the floods break way Whose strength is in the hills. The trees they suck from every cloud, The valley brooks they roar aloud Bank-high for the lowlands, lowlands, Lowlands under the hills! The first wood down is sere […]...
9. Painting And Sculpture The sinful painter drapes his goddess warm, Because she still is naked, being drest; The godlike sculptor will not so deform Beauty, which bones and flesh enough invest....
10. Canto XLIX For the seven lakes, and by no man these verses: Rain; empty river; a voyage, Fire from frozen cloud, heavy rain in the twilight Under the cabin roof was one lantern. The reeds are heavy; bent; And the bamboos speak as if weeping. Autumn moon; hills rise about lakes Against sunset Evening is like a […]...
11. I had not minded Walls I had not minded Walls Were Universe one Rock And far I heard his silver Call The other side the Block I’d tunnel till my Groove Pushed sudden thro’ to his Then my face take her Recompense The looking in his Eyes But ’tis a single Hair A filament a law A Cobweb wove in […]...
12. Song of the Fifth River “The Treasure and the Low” Puck of Pook’s Hills. Where first by Eden Tree The Four Great Rivers ran, To each was appointed a Man Her Prince and Ruler to be. But after this was ordained (The ancient legends’ tell), There came dark Israel, For whom no River remained. Then He Whom the Rivers obey […]...
13. A BREAK IN THE RHYTHM OF LIFE Bhaskar Roy Barman When the world itself looked exhausted, Revolving round the sun; When a bumble-bee sounded tired Of humming round a ternate leaf; When a few fishermen were venting their rage on their net -they looked fed up of mending their net off and on – And when the fish were leaping and playing […]...
14. To a Waterfowl Whither, midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler’s eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong As, darkly seen against the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. Seek’st thou the plashy brink Of […]...
15. Fear Is What Quickens Me 1 Many animals that our fathers killed in America Had quick eyes. They stared about wildly, When the moon went dark. The new moon falls into the freight yards Of cities in the south, But the loss of the moon to the dark hands of Chicago Does not matter to the deer In this northern […]...
16. Ford o' Kabul River Kabul town’s by Kabul river Blow the bugle, draw the sword There I lef’ my mate for ever, Wet an’ drippin’ by the ford. Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river, Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark! There’s the river up and brimmin’, an’ there’s ‘arf a squadron swimmin’ ‘Cross the ford o’ Kabul river […]...
17. Fields and Gardens by the River Qi I dwell apart by the River Qi, Where the Eastern wilds stretch far without hills. The sun darkens beyond the mulberry trees; The river glistens through the villages. Shepherd boys depart, gazing back to their hamlets; Hunting dogs return following their men. When a man’s at peace, what business does he have? I shut fast […]...
18. Leudeman's-on-the-River Toward even when the day leans down, To kiss the upturned face of night, Out just beyond the loud-voiced town I know a spot of calm delight. Like crimson arrows from a quiver The red rays pierce the water flowing, While we go dreaming, singing, rowing, To Leudeman’s-on-the-River. The hills, like some glad mocking-bird, Send […]...
19. The Red Shirt “…his poems that no one reads anymore become dust, wind, nothing, Like the insolent colored shirt he bought to die in.” -Vargas Llosa If I gave 5 birds Each 4 eyes I would be blind Unto the 3rd Generation, if I Gave no one a word For a day And let the day Grow into […]...
20. A dull sound, varying now and again And then we began eating corn starch, Chalk chewed wet into sirup. We pilfered Argo boxes stored away to stiffen My white dress shirt, and my cousin And I played or watched TV, no longer annoyed By the din of never cooling afternoons. On the way home from church one fifth Sunday, Shirt outside my […]...
21. Potomac River Mist ALL the policemen, saloonkeepers and efficiency experts in Toledo knew Bern Dailey; secretary ten years when Whitlock was mayor. Pickpockets, yeggs, three card men, he knew them all and how they flit from zone to zone, birds of wind and weather, singers, fighters, scavengers. The Washington monument pointed to a new moon for us and […]...
22. The Song of the Darling River The skies are brass and the plains are bare, Death and ruin are everywhere And all that is left of the last year’s flood Is a sickly stream on the grey-black mud; The salt-springs bubble and the quagmires quiver, And this is the dirge of the Darling River: ‘I rise in the drought from the […]...
23. Where Go the Boats? Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating – Where will all come home? On goes the river And out past the mill, Away down the valley, Away down the hill. Away down […]...
24. Tz'u No. 5 To the tune of “Like a Dream” I always remember the sunset Over the pavilion by the river, So tipsy we could not find our way home. Our interest exhausted, the evening late, We tried to turn the boat homeward. By mistake, we entered deep within the lotus bed. Row! Row the boat! A flock […]...
25. At Variance When with me the play she goes, I much admire the buds and bows And all that on Kate’s headgear grows. But when some other night I see That hat between the stage and me, My taste and Kate’s do not agree....
26. Wind He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea, He steals the down from the honeybee, He makes the forest trees rustle and sing, He twirls my kite till it breaks its string. Laughing, dancing, sunny wind, Whistling, howling, rainy wind, North, South, East and West, Each is the wind I like the best. […]...
27. Peach Blossom Journey Fishing boat pursue water love hill spring Both banks peach blossom arrive ancient river crossing Travel look red tree not know far Travel furthest blue stream not see people Mountain mouth stealthy move begin cave profound Mountain open spacious view spin flat land Far see one place accumulate cloud tree Nearby join 1000 homes scattered […]...
28. Nadir If we must cheat ourselves with any dream, Then let it be a dream of nobleness: Since it is necessary to express Gall from black grapes to sew an endless seam With a rusty needle chase a spurious gleam Narrowing to the nothing through the less Since life’s no better than a bitter guess, And […]...
29. My Bed is a Boat My bed is like a little boat; Nurse helps me in when I embark; She girds me in my sailor’s coat And starts me in the dark. At night I go on board and say Good-night to all my friends on shore; I shut my eyes and sail away And see and hear no more. […]...
30. Sabbaths 2001 I He wakes in darkness. All around Are sounds of stones shifting, locks Unlocking. As if some one had lifted Away a great weight, light Falls on him. He has been asleep or simply Gone. He has known a long suffering Of himself, himself sharpen by the pain Of his wound of separation he now […]...
31. In Response To A Rumor That The Oldest Whorehouse In Wheeling, West Virginia, Has Been Condemned I will grieve alone, As I strolled alone, years ago, down along The Ohio shore. I hid in the hobo jungle weeds Upstream from the sewer main, Pondering, gazing. I saw, down river, At Twenty-third and Water Streets By the vinegar works, The doors open in early evening. Swinging their purses, the women Poured down […]...
32. The Little Orphan The crowded street his playground is, a patch of blue his sky; A puddle in a vacant lot his sea where ships pass by: Poor little orphan boy of five, the city smoke and grime Taint every cooling breeze he gets throughout the summer time; And he is just as your boy is, a child […]...
33. Adrift! A little boat adrift! Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town? So Sailors say on yesterday Just as the dusk was brown One little boat gave up its strife And gurgled down and down. So angels say on yesterday Just as the dawn was red […]...
34. Walking on the Estuary Hill The curlew and the heron call, The hissing mud and whispering wings Beat eery through the idle air Until the moonlit midnight silence falls And then the tide flows softly Through the gut and sluice of estuary sands And dark against the dreamlit sky The trees arise from hedgerows, And the hills Alive with monstrous […]...
35. Sail Away Early in the day it was whispered that we should sail in a boat, Only thou and I, and never a soul in the world would know of this our Pilgrimage to no country and to no end. In that shoreless ocean, At thy silently listening smile my songs would swell in melodies, Free as […]...
36. The Winds Message There came a whisper down the Bland between the dawn and dark, Above the tossing of the pines, above the river’s flow; It stirred the boughs of giant gums and stalwart iron-bark; It drifted where the wild ducks played amid the swamps below; It brought a breath of mountain air from off the hills of […]...
37. The River Of Rivers In Connecticut There is a great river this side of Stygia Before one comes to the first black cataracts And trees that lack the intelligence of trees. In that river, far this side of Stygia, The mere flowing of the water is a gayety, Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks, No shadow walks. The […]...
38. The Gardener XIX: You Walked You walked by the riverside path With the full pitcher upon your hip. Why did you swiftly turn your face And peep at me through your fluttering Veil? That gleaming look from the dark Came upon me like a breeze that sends A shiver through the rippling water And sweeps away to the shadowy Shore. […]...
39. The Gardener LXXXIII: She Dwelt on the Hillside She dwelt on the hillside by edge Of a maize-field, near the spring that Flows in laughing rills through the Solemn shadows of ancient trees. The Women came there to fill their jars, And travellers would sit there to rest And talk. She worked and dreamed Daily to the tune of the bubbling Stream. One […]...
40. Fields of Soria Hills of silver plate, Grey heights, dark red rocks Through which the Duero bends Its crossbow arc Round Soria, shadowed oaks, Stone dry-lands, naked mountains, White roads and river poplars, Twilights of Soria, warlike and mystical, Today I feel, for you, In my hearts depths, sadness, Sadness of love! Fields of Soria, Where it seems […]...