Punctuality

Related poetry:

1. Aaron Holiness on the head, Light and perfection on the breast, Harmonious bells below, raising the dead To led them unto life and rest. Thus are true Aarons dressed. Profaneness in my head, Defects and darkness in my breast, A noise of passions ringing me for dead Unto a place where is no rest. Poor priest […]...
2. At Half past Three, a single Bird At Half past Three, a single Bird Unto a silent Sky Propounded but a single term Of cautious melody. At Half past Four, Experiment Had subjugated test And lo, Her silver Principle Supplanted all the rest. At Half past Seven, Element Nor Implement, be seen And Place was where the Presence was Circumference between....
3. Nature As a fond mother, when the day is o’er, Leads by the hand her little child to bed, Half willing, half reluctant to be led, And leave his broken playthings on the floor, Still gazing at them through the open door, Nor wholly reassured and comforted By promises of others in their stead, Which though […]...
4. 399. Song-Open the door to me, oh OH, open the door, some pity to shew, Oh, open the door to me, oh, Tho’ thou hast been false, I’ll ever prove true, Oh, open the door to me, oh. Cauld is the blast upon my pale cheek, But caulder thy love for me, oh: The frost that freezes the life at my heart, […]...
5. The Bird her punctual music brings The Bird her punctual music brings And lays it in its place Its place is in the Human Heart And in the Heavenly Grace What respite from her thrilling toil Did Beauty ever take But Work might be electric Rest To those that Magic make...
6. When on a Summer's Morn When on a summer’s morn I wake, And open my two eyes, Out to the clear, born-singing rills My bird-like spirit flies. To hear the Blackbird, Cuckoo, Thrush, Or any bird in song; And common leaves that hum all day Without a throat or tongue. And when Time strikes the hour for sleep, Back in […]...
7. Dust is the only Secret Dust is the only Secret Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.” Nobody know “his Father” Never was a Boy Hadn’t any playmates, Or “Early history” Industrious! Laconic! Punctual! Sedate! Bold as a Brigand! Stiller than a Fleet! Builds, like a Bird, too! Christ robs the Nest Robin […]...
8. I like to see it lap the Miles I like to see it lap the Miles And lick the Valleys up And stop to feed itself at Tanks And then prodigious step Around a Pile of Mountains And supercilious peer In Shanties by the sides of Roads And then a Quarry pare To fit its Ribs And crawl between Complaining all the while […]...
9. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say […]...
10. John Horace Burleson I won the prize essay at school Here in the village, And published a novel before I was twenty-five. I went to the city for themes and to enrich my art; There married the banker’s daughter, And later became president of the bank- Always looking forward to some leisure To write an epic novel of […]...
11. The Rose Sweet serene sky-like flower, Haste to adorn her bower; From thy long cloudy bed Shoot forth thy damask head! New-startled blush of Flora, The grief of pale Aurora, Who will contest no more, Haste, haste to strew her floor! Vermilion ball that’s given From lip to lip in heaven, Love’s couch’s coverlet, Haste, haste to […]...
12. Revolt In The Ranks I have just spent one-hour-and-a-half Handicapping tomorrow’s Card. When am I going to get at the poems? Well, they’ll just have to wait They’ll have to warm their feet in the Anteroom Where they’ll sit gossiping about Me. “this Chinaski, doesn’t he realize that Without us he would have long ago Gone mad, been dead?” […]...
13. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
14. Clocks HERE is a face that says half-past seven the same way whether a murder or a wedding goes on, whether a funeral or a picnic crowd passes. A tall one I know at the end of a hallway broods in shadows and is watching booze eat out the insides of the man of the house; […]...
15. The Release To-day within a grog-shop near I saw a newly captured linnet, Who beat against his cage in fear, And fell exhausted every minute; And when I asked the fellow there If he to sell the bird were willing, He told me with a careless air That I could have it for a shilling. And so […]...
16. St. Peter and the Angel Delivered out of raw continual pain, Smell of darkness, groans of those others To whom he was chained Unchained, and led Past the sleepers, Door after door silently opening Out! And along a long street’s Majestic emptiness under the moon: One hand on the angel’s shoulder, one Feeling the air before him, Eyes open but […]...
17. Simple pleasures that you bring Do you mind if I write a few lines for you tonight? I’m fuelled for sure, perhaps a bit ebullient, (now there’s a rhyme that will be hard to find A word to suit!) I’ll try, but time will surely take A pensive break and provide a chance to make A consequence. Am I afraid […]...
18. Bereft Where had I heard this wind before Change like this to a deeper roar? What would it take my standing there for, Holding open a restive door, Looking down hill to a frothy shore? Summer was past and day was past. Somber clouds in the west were massed. Out in the porch’s sagging floor, Leaves […]...
19. Hiawathas' photographing ( Part II ) First the Governor, the Father: He suggested velvet curtains Looped about a massy pillar; And the corner of a table, Of a rosewood dining-table. He would hold a scroll of something, Hold it firmly in his left-hand; He would keep his right-hand buried (Like Napoleon) in his waistcoat; He would contemplate the distance With a […]...
20. The Civil War I am torn in two But I will conquer myself. I will dig up the pride. I will take scissors And cut out the beggar. I will take a crowbar And pry out the broken Pieces of God in me. Just like a jigsaw puzzle, I will put Him together again With the patience of […]...
21. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
22. Grown-Up Talk Half-Past-Six and I were talking In a very grown-up way; We had got so tired with running That we did not want to play. “How do babies come, I wonder,” He said, looking at the sky, “Does God mix the things together An’ just make it-like a pie?” I was really not quite certain, But […]...
23. Variant Form Of The Preceding Poem COME to me, all ye that labour; I will give your spirits rest; Here apart in starry quiet I will give you rest. Come to me, ye heavy laden, sin defiled and care opprest, In your father’s quiet mansions, soon to prove a welcome guest. But an hour you bear your trial, sin and suffer, […]...
24. Sowing IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour Between the far Owl’s chuckling first soft cry And the first star. A long stretched hour it was; Nothing undone Remained; the early seeds All safely sown. And now, hark at the rain, […]...
25. At last, to be identified! At last, to be identified! At last, the lamps upon thy side The rest of Life to see! Past Midnight! Past the Morning Star! Past Sunrise! Ah, What leagues there were Between our feet, and Day!...
26. The Sun-Dial at Wells College The shadow by my finger cast Divides the future from the past: Before it, sleeps the unborn hour In darkness, and beyond thy power: Behind its unreturning line, The vanished hour, no longer thine: One hour alone is in thy hands, The NOW on which the shadow stands....
27. AT MIDNIGHT HOUR [Goethe relates that a remarkable situation He was in one bright moonlight night led to the composition of this Sweet song, which was “the dearer to him because he could not say Whence it came and whither it would.”] AT midnight hour I went, not willingly, A little, little boy, yon churchyard past, To Father […]...
28. Crossroads The second half of my life will be black To the white rind of the old and fading moon. The second half of my life will be water Over the cracked floor of these desert years. I will land on my feet this time, Knowing at least two languages and who My friends are. I […]...
29. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
30. New feet within my garden go New feet within my garden go New fingers stir the sod A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude. New children play upon the green New Weary sleep below And still the pensive Spring returns And still the punctual snow!...
31. Peonies This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready To break my heart As the sun rises, As the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers And they open – Pools of lace, White and pink – And all day the black ants climb over them, Boring their deep and mysterious holes […]...
32. Since Nine O'Clock Half past twelve. Time has gone by quickly Since nine o’clock when I lit the lamp And sat down here. I’ve been sitting without reading, Without speaking. Completely alone in the house, Whom could I talk to? Since nine o’clock when I lit the lamp The shade of my young body Has come to haunt […]...
33. Rhapsody on a Windy Night TWELVE o’clock. Along the reaches of the street Held in a lunar synthesis, Whispering lunar incantations Dissolve the floors of memory And all its clear relations Its divisions and precisions, Every street lamp that I pass Beats like a fatalistic drum, And through the spaces of the dark Midnight shakes the memory As a madman […]...
34. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
35. Lightly stepped a yellow star Lightly stepped a yellow star To its lofty place Loosed the Moon her silver hat From her lustral Face All of Evening softly lit As an Astral Hall Father, I observed to Heaven, You are punctual....
36. It came at last but prompter Death It came at last but prompter Death Had occupied the House His pallid Furniture arranged And his metallic Peace Oh faithful Frost that kept the Date Had Love as punctual been Delight had aggrandized the Gate And blocked the coming in....
37. In Excelsis It is half winter, half spring, And Barbara and I are standing Confronting the ocean. Its mouth is open very wide, And it has dug up its green, Throwing it, throwing it at the shore. You say it is angry. I say it is like a kicked Madonna. Its womb collapses, drunk with its fever. […]...
38. The Electric Slide Boogie New Year’s Day 1:16 AM And my body is weary beyond Time to withdraw and rest Ample room allowed me in everyone’s head But community calls Right over the threshold Drums beating through the walls Children playing their truck dramas Under the collapsible coatrack In the narrow hallway outside my room The TV lounge next […]...
39. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
40. Pink small and punctual Pink small and punctual Aromatic low Covert in April Candid in May Dear to the Moss Known to the Knoll Next to the Robin In every human Soul Bold little Beauty Bedecked with thee Nature forswears Antiquity...