Tema con Variazioni

Related poetry:

1. Theme with Variations I never loved a dear Gazelle Nor anything that cost me much: High prices profit those who sell, But why should I be fond of such? To glad me with his soft black eye My son comes trotting home from school; He’s had a fight but can’t tell why He always was a little fool! […]...
2. Kreisler SELL me a violin, mister, of old mysterious wood. Sell me a fiddle that has kissed dark nights on the forehead where men kiss sisters they love. Sell me dried wood that has ached with passion clutching the knees and arms of a storm. Sell me horsehair and rosin that has sucked at the breasts […]...
3. Blame Katrina, or Larry You may have heard a dumb-ass claim that Katrina, a hurricane, is to blame for current Stress upon our fiscal state, that petrol prices Ate their share but be aware of what the lack Of Cavendish bananas did when far too few Were found to satisfy the mad demand. It began by setting off alarms […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. Barter Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things; Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Soaring fire that sways and sings, And children’s faces looking up, Holding wonder like a cup. Life has loveliness to sell; Music like a curve of gold, Scent of pine trees in the rain, Eyes that love you, arms […]...
6. In Memoriam 82: I Wage Not Any Feud With Death I wage not any feud with Death For changes wrought on form and face; No lower life that earth’s embrace May breed with him, can fright my faith. Eternal process moving on, From state to state the spirit walks; And these are but the shatter’d stalks, Or ruin’d chrysalis of one. Nor blame I Death, […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. Gee, You're So Beautiful That It's Starting To Rain Oh, Marcia, I want your long blonde beauty To be taught in high school, So kids will learn that God Lives like music in the skin And sounds like a sunshine harpsicord. I want high school report cards To look like this: Playing with Gentle Glass Things A Computer Magic A Writing Letters to Those […]...
9. The Auctioneer of Parting The Auctioneer of Parting His “Going, going, gone” Shouts even from the Crucifix, And brings his Hammer down He only sells the Wilderness, The prices of Despair Range from a single human Heart To Two not any more...
10. In Memory Of Eva Gore-Booth And Con Markiewicz The light of evening, Lissadell, Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle. But a raving autumn shears Blossom from the summer’s wreath; The older is condemned to death, Pardoned, drags out lonely years Conspiring among the ignorant. I know not what the younger dreams – Some […]...
11. 228. To Alex. Cunningham, Esq., Writer, Edinburgh MY godlike friend-nay, do not stare, You think the phrase is odd-like; But “God is love,” the saints declare, Then surely thou art god-like. And is thy ardour still the same? And kindled still at ANNA? Others may boast a partial flame, But thou art a volcano! Ev’n Wedlock asks not love beyond Death’s tie-dissolving […]...
12. Photography Extraordinary The Milk-and-Water School Alas! she would not hear my prayer! Yet it were rash to tear my hair; Disfigured, I should be less fair. She was unwise, I may say blind; Once she was lovingly inclined; Some circumstance has changed her mind. The Strong-Minded or Matter-of-Fact School Well! so my offer was no go! She […]...
13. Françoise And The Fruit Farmer In town to sell his fruit, he saw her- Françoise in her summer slacks- Turning to him, coming back To feel the swelling plums, One held in each soft hand, breast-high, Above them her eyes enclosing him In quietness brushed up to colors, Urgings green, thrustings yellow. A vine-like touch, her promise seemed all profit, […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. 512. Song-Guid ale keeps the heart aboon Chorus-O gude ale comes and gude ale goes; Gude ale gars me sell my hose, Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon- Gude ale keeps my heart aboon! I HAD sax owsen in a pleugh, And they drew a’ weel eneugh: I sell’d them a’ just ane by ane- Gude ale keeps the heart aboon! […]...
16. What We Are What we are? We say we want to become What we are or what we have an intent to be. We read the possibilities, or try. We get to some. We think we know how to read. We recognize a word, here and there, A syllable: male, it says perhaps, Or female, talent look what […]...
17. Calmly We Walk Through This April's Day Calmly we walk through this April’s day, Metropolitan poetry here and there, In the park sit pauper and rentier, The screaming children, the motor-car Fugitive about us, running away, Between the worker and the millionaire Number provides all distances, It is Nineteen Thirty-Seven now, Many great dears are taken away, What will become of you […]...
18. When the Great Ark When the Great Ark, in Vigo Bay, Rode stately through the half-manned fleet, From every ship about her way She heard the mariners entreat Before we take the seas again Let down your boats and send us men! “We have no lack of victual here With work God knows! enough for all, To hand and […]...
19. Worldly Place Even in a palace, life may be led well! So spake the imperial sage, purest of men, Marcus Aurelius. But the stifling den Of common life, where, crowded up pell-mell, Our freedom for a little bread we sell, And drudge under some foolish master’s ken Who rates us if we peer outside our pen Match’d […]...
20. Floss won't save you from an Abyss Floss won’t save you from an Abyss But a Rope will Notwithstanding a Rope for a Souvenir Is not beautiful But I tell you every step is a Trough And every stop a Well Now will you have the Rope or the Floss? Prices reasonable...
21. I Am Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman. I am the red brand On the shoulder of the condemned, The gallows and the rope, The ax and the block, The whip and the cross. I am the lion’s tooth In the flesh of the gazelle. In my veins I have The blood of the slave […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Snow Day Today we woke up to a revolution of snow, Its white flag waving over everything, The landscape vanished, Not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness, And beyond these windows The government buildings smothered, Schools and libraries buried, the post office lost Under the noiseless drift, The paths of trains softly blocked, The world fallen […]...
24. Love Of Jerusalem There is a street where they sell only red meat And there is a street where they sell only clothes and perfumes. And there Is a day when I see only cripples and the blind And those covered with leprosy, and spastics and those with twisted lips. Here they build a house and there they […]...
25. He Giveth His Beloved Sleep The long day passes with its load of sorrow: In slumber deep I lay me down to rest until tomorrow Thank God for sleep. Thank God for all respite from weary toiling, From cares that creep Across our lives like evil shadows, spoiling God’s kindly sleep. We plough and sow, and, as the hours grow […]...
26. Satires of Circumstance in Fifteen Glimpses VIII: In the St He enters, and mute on the edge of a chair Sits a thin-faced lady, a stranger there, A type of decayed gentility; And by some small signs he well can guess That she comes to him almost breakfastless. “I have called I hope I do not err I am looking for a purchaser Of some […]...
27. Captain Stratton's Fancy OH some are fond of red wine, and some are fond of white, And some are all for dancing by the pale moonlight; But rum alone’s the tipple, and the heart’s delight Of the old bold mate of Henry Morgan. Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French, And some’ll […]...
28. Je Suis Poem by Anne-Marie Derése Je suis le fer rouge Sur l’èpaule du condamnè, Le gibet et la corde, La hache et le billot, Le fouet et la croix. Je suis la dent du lion Dans la chair de la gazelle. J’ai dans mes veines Le sang de nègriers. Bourreau, J’ai mèritè la faim des loups. […]...
29. 196. Epitaph for Mr. W. Cruickshank HONEST 1 Will to Heaven’s away And mony shall lament him; His fau’ts they a’ in Latin lay, In English nane e’er kent them. Note 1. Of the Edinburgh High School. [back]...
30. A full fed Rose on meals of Tint A full fed Rose on meals of Tint A Dinner for a Bee In process of the Noon became – Each bright Mortality The Forfeit is of Creature fair Itself, adored before Submitting for our unknown sake To be esteemed no more...
31. 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 […]...
32. September, The First Day Of School I My child and I hold hands on the way to school, And when I leave him at the first-grade door He cries a little but is brave; he does Let go. My selfish tears remind me how I cried before that door a life ago. I may have had a hard time letting go. […]...
33. Two Schools I put my heart to school In the world, where men grow wise, “Go out,” I said, “and learn the rule; Come back when you win a prize.” My heart came back again: “Now where is the prize?” I cried. “The rule was false, and the prize was pain, And the teacher’s name was Pride.” […]...
34. There are two Ripenings one of sight There are two Ripenings one of sight Whose forces Spheric wind Until the Velvet product Drop spicy to the ground A homelier maturing A process in the Bur That teeth of Frosts alone disclose In far October Air....
35. It Is March It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices When you look back there is always the past Even when it has vanished But when you look forward With […]...
36. Alcidor While Monarchs in stern Battle strove For proud Imperial Sway; Abandon’d to his milder Love, Within a silent peaceful Grove, Alcidor careless lay. Some term’d it cold, unmanly Fear; Some, Nicety of Sense, That Drums and Trumpets cou’d not hear, The sullying Blasts of Powder bear, Or with foul Camps dispense. A patient Martyr to […]...
37. The Source There in the fringe of trees between The upper field and the edge of the one Below it that runs above the valley One time I heard in the early Days of summer the clear ringing Six notes that I knew were the opening Of the Fingal’s Cave Overture I heard them again and again […]...
38. Hiawathas' photographing ( Part I ) FROM his shoulder Hiawatha Took the camera of rosewood, Made of sliding, folding rosewood; Neatly put it all together. In its case it lay compactly, Folded into nearly nothing; But he opened out the hinges, Pushed and pulled the joints and hinges, Till it looked all squares and oblongs, Like a complicated figure In the […]...
39. Dunce At school I never gained a prize, Proving myself the model ass; Yet how I watched the wistful eyes, And cheered my mates who topped the class. No envy in my heart I found, Yet bone was worthier to own Those precious books in vellum bound, Than I, a dreamer and a drone. No prize […]...
40. Pedlar Pedlar’s coming down the street, Housewives beat a swift retreat. Don’t you answer to the bell; Heedless what she has to sell. Just discreetly go inside. We must hang a board, I fear: PEDLARS NOT PERMITTED HERE. I’m trying to sell what nobody wants to buy; They turn me away, but still I try and […]...