The Sleepout

Related poetry:

1. The Little Box The little box gets her first teeth And her little length Little width little emptiness And all the rest she has The little box continues growing The cupboard that she was inside Is now inside her And she grows bigger bigger bigger Now the room is inside her And the house and the city and […]...
2. Still In sealed box cars travel Names across the land, And how far they will travel so, And will they ever get out, Don’t ask, I won’t say, I don’t know. The name Nathan strikes fist against wall, The name Isaac, demented, sings, The name Sarah calls out for water for The name Aaron that’s dying […]...
3. Beyond Siberia Again Siberia Beyond Siberia again Siberia, Beyond impenetrable forest again forest. And beyond it waste ground, Where a blizzard of snow breaks loose. The blizzard has handcuffs, and the snow- Storm has a knife which kills at once…. I will die, pay a debt For others who live somewhere, Out of spite, out of fear and terror, […]...
4. The Dark Forest Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead Hang stars like seeds of light In vain, though not since they were sown was bred Anything more bright. And evermore mighty multitudes ride About, nor enter in; Of the other multitudes that dwell inside Never yet was one seen. The forest foxglove is purple, the marguerite […]...
5. The Land of Story-Books At evening when the lamp is lit, Around the fire my parents sit; They sit at home and talk and sing, And do not play at anything. Now, with my little gun, I crawl All in the dark along the wall, And follow round the forest track Away behind the sofa back. There, in the […]...
6. Hamlet Micure In a lingering fever many visions come to you: I was in the little house again With its great yard of clover Running down to the board-fence, Shadowed by the oak tree, Where we children had our swing. Yet the little house was a manor hall Set in a lawn, and by the lawn was […]...
7. Near The Wall Of A House Near the wall of a house painted To look like stone, I saw visions of God. A sleepless night that gives others a headache Gave me flowers Opening beautifully inside my brain. And he who was lost like a dog Will be found like a human being And brought back home again. Love is not […]...
8. The White Mans Burden Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig And lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips: Maybe it was the voice of the rain crying, A cracked bell, or a torn heart. Something from far off it seemed Deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth, A shout muffled by huge autumns, […]...
9. A Parody on "A Psalm of Life&quot Life is real, life is earnest, And the shell is not its pen – “Egg thou art, and egg remainest” Was not spoken of the hen. Art is long and Time is fleeting, Be our bills then sharpened well, And not like muffled drums be beating On the inside of the shell. In the world’s […]...
10. I Never Loved You More I never loved you more, ma soeur Than as I walked away from you that evening. The forest swallowed me, the blue forest, ma soeur The blue forest and above it pale stars in the west. I did not laugh, not one little bit, ma soeur As I playfully walked towards a dark fate While […]...
11. Above Eurunderee There are scenes in the distance where beauty is not, On the desolate flats where gaunt appletrees rot. Where the brooding old ridge rises up to the breeze From his dark lonely gullies of stringy-bark trees, There are voice-haunted gaps, ever sullen and strange, But Eurunderee lies like a gem in the range. Still I […]...
12. 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, […]...
13. A Poem About George Doty In The Death House Lured by the wall, and drawn To stare below the roof, Where pigeons nest aloof From prowling cats and men, I count the sash and bar Secured to granite stone, And note the daylight gone, Supper and silence near. Close to the wall inside, Immured, empty of love, A man I have wondered of Lies […]...
14. It's Dark in Here I am writing these poems From inside a lion, And it’s rather dark in here. So please excuse the handwriting Which may not be too clear. But this afternoon by the lion’s cage I’m afraid I got too near. And I’m writing these lines From inside a lion, And it’s rather dark in here....
15. Poem for My Wife This morning when we woke up The meat cages still locked us up* We took a bath so they’d look nice Had our breakfast of eggs and rice Wore the the stuff that Pinurbo** From his father once borrowed Braved the traffic never cool Sending our daughter to school Day by day we replay the […]...
16. Nights Reflect Shadow puppets on the wall. Dark carbon copies of what a furnished room bares. Into a black covered mirror, my world reflects. Showing me things, only the night has to offer....
17. Some One Some one came knocking At my wee, small door; Someone came knocking; I’m sure-sure-sure; I listened, I opened, I looked to left and right, But nought there was a stirring In the still dark night; Only the busy beetle Tap-tapping in the wall, Only from the forest The screech-owl’s call, Only the cricket whistling While […]...
18. A Retrospect Of Humidity All the air conditioners now slacken Their hummed carrier wave. Once again We’ve served our three months with remissions In the steam and dry iron of this seaboard. In jellied glare, through the nettle-rash season We’ve watched the sky’s fermenting laundry Portend downpours. Some came, and steamed away, And we were clutched back into the […]...
19. The Sonnets To Orpheus: I A tree ascended there. Oh pure transendence! Oh Orpheus sings! Oh tall tree in the ear! And all things hushed. Yet even in that silence A new beginning, beckoning, change appeared. Creatures of stillness crowded from the bright Unbound forest, out of their lairs and nests; And it was not from any dullness, not From […]...
20. The Quarrel Our quarrel seemed a giant thing, It made the room feel mean and small, The books, the lamp, the furniture, The very pictures on the wall Crowded upon us as we sat Pale and terrified, face to face. “Why do you stay?” she said, “my room Can never be your resting place.” “Katinka, ere we […]...
21. Eleventh Hour The bloom was off the economic recovery. “I just want to know one thing,” she said. What was that one thing? He’ll never know, Because at just that moment he heard the sound Of broken glass in the bathroom, and when he got there, It was dark. His hand went to the wall But the […]...
22. The Starry Night That does not keep me from having a terrible need of shall I say the word religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars. Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother The town does not exist Except where one black-haired tree slips Up like a drowned woman into the hot […]...
23. The Owners Of The Little Box Line the inside of the little box With your precious skin And make yourself cozy Just as you would in your own home Make space voyages inside her Gather stars make time squirt its milk And sleep in the clouds Just don’t go around pretending You’re more important than her length And wiser than her […]...
24. SPROUT It could be Valley Oak or Snap-bean, Elderberry, or Cattail rising out of the creek; All began the same, a spark of life inside, The need to be coaxing their will into action. Seed and pod, nut and bulb, cajoled awake, called By the warmth of the sun, moisture in the soil, Swelling them, filling […]...
25. Redbud Trail – Winter It’s two muddy miles from Highway 20, Just past the north fork of Cache Creek, Across the broad meadow, through Blue oak woodland, up, up to the ridge, And back down to the creek bank, The crossing point, me striding with Mud caking my old hiking boots. For a millennia the Miwok people walked These […]...
26. The house where I was born (05) In the same dream I am lying in the hollow of a boat, My forehead and eyes against the curved planks Where I can hear the undercurrents Striking the bottom of the boat. All at once, the prow rises up, And I think that we’ve come to the estuary, But I keep my eyes against […]...
27. Dungeon He whom I enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon. I am ever busy building this wall all around; and as this wall goes up into The sky day by day I lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow. I take pride in this great wall, and I plaster it […]...
28. Locked Doors For the angels who inhabit this town, Although their shape constantly changes, Each night we leave some cold potatoes And a bowl of milk on the windowsill. Usually they inhabit heaven where, By the way, no tears are allowed. They push the moon around like A boiled yam. The Milky Way is their hen With […]...
29. A Smuggler's Song If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse’s feet, Don’t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street. Them that ask no questions isn’t told a lie. Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by! Five and twenty ponies, Trotting through the dark Brandy for the Parson, ‘Baccy for the […]...
30. The Pilot Up in a dirty window in a dark room is a star Which an old man can see. He looks at it. He can See it. It is the star of the room; an electrical Freckle that has fallen out of his head and gotten Stuck in the dirt on the window. He thinks he […]...
31. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
32. The Song And The Sigh The creek went down with a broken song, ‘Neath the sheoaks high; The waters carried the song along, And the oaks a sigh. The song and the sigh went winding by, Went winding down; Circling the foot of the mountain high, And the hillside brown. They were hushed in the swamp of the Dead Man’s […]...
33. Black Cat A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place Your sight can knock on, echoing; but here Within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze Will be absorbed and utterly disappear: Just as a raving madman, when nothing else Can ease him, charges into his dark night Howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels […]...
34. Träumerei In this dream that dogs me I am part Of a silent crowd walking under a wall, Leaving a football match, perhaps, or a pit, All moving the same way. After a while A second wall closes on our right, Pressing us tighter. We are now shut in Like pigs down a concrete passage. When […]...
35. Softened by Time's consummate plush Softened by Time’s consummate plush, How sleek the woe appears That threatened childhood’s citadel And undermined the years. Bisected now, by bleaker griefs, We envy the despair That devastated childhood’s realm, So easy to repair....
36. How the Land was Won The future was dark and the past was dead As they gazed on the sea once more – But a nation was born when the immigrants said “Good-bye!” as they stepped ashore! In their loneliness they were parted thus Because of the work to do, A wild wide land to be won for us By […]...
37. Patience If thou speakest not I will fill my heart with thy silence and endure it. I will keep still and wait like the night with starry vigil And its head bent low with patience. The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish, And thy voice pour down in golden streams breaking through the sky. […]...
38. Out Of The Arm Of One Love out of the arm of one love And into the arms of another I have been saved from dying on the cross By a lady who smokes pot Writes songs and stories And is much kinder than the last, Much much kinder, And the sex is just as good or better. It isn’t pleasant to […]...
39. To Minnie The red room with the giant bed Where none but elders laid their head; The little room where you and I Did for awhile together lie And, simple, suitor, I your hand In decent marriage did demand; The great day nursery, best of all, With pictures pasted on the wall And leaves upon the blind […]...
40. The House Of Dust: Part 01: 04: Up high black walls, up sombre terraces Up high black walls, up sombre terraces, Clinging like luminous birds to the sides of cliffs, The yellow lights went climbing towards the sky. From high black walls, gleaming vaguely with rain, Each yellow light looked down like a golden eye. They trembled from coign to coign, and tower to tower, Along high terraces quicker […]...