Reading the Obituaries

Related poetry:

1. Fountain of your rise Michelle, the thought of you confused or under siege Bereaves us; you, the cheerful heart who waged a Silent war for lost, egregious souls whose thanks Deserted you should never be constrained, should never Need to grieve in anxious pain or ever cede to grieve alone. Michelle, you gave without restraint, the light was Grown […]...
2. Doughnut denial (an ascetic poem for karen’s birthday) Fancy having a birthday on a thursday When you do the buying of the doughnuts And others lick their sticky fingers Thinking good old karen letting Us share the eating of her birthday Not me of course – i sit at home (alone) Reflecting it is purification day Today […]...
3. Poem 90 IN youth before I waxed old. The blynd boy Venus baby, For want of cunning made me bold, In bitter byue to grope for honny. But when he saw me stung and cry, He tooke his wings and away did fly. As Diane hunted on a day, She chaunst to come where Cupid lay, His […]...
4. Hoping With Care We are honored and humble and earnest to share In events which would happen Although we weren’t there, a trifling thing As it were we are sure but amazing The changes it has wrought in us where We’re inspired by dreams which ennui despairs. We are awed by these joys but not possessed, The paternally […]...
5. Reading Moby-Dick at 30,000 Feet At this height, Kansas Is just a concept, A checkerboard design of wheat and corn No larger than the foldout section Of my neighbor’s travel magazine. At this stage of the journey I would estimate the distance Between myself and my own feelings Is roughly the same as the mileage From Seattle to New York, […]...
6. Reading An Anthology Of Chinese Poems Of The Sung Dynasty, I Pause To Admire The Length And Clarity Of Their Titles It seems these poets have nothing Up their ample sleeves They turn over so many cards so early, Telling us before the first line Whether it is wet or dry, Night or day, the season the man is standing in, Even how much he has had to drink. Maybe it is autumn and he is […]...
7. A Dream, After Reading Dante's Episode Of Paolo And Francesca As Hermes once took to his feathers light, When lulled Argus, baffled, swooned and slept, So on a Delphic reed, my idle spright So played, so charmed, so conquered, so bereft The dragon-world of all its hundred eyes; And seeing it asleep, so fled away, Not to pure Ida with its snow-cold skies, Nor unto […]...
8. A Thought or Two on Reading Pomfret's I have been reading Pomfret’s “Choice” this spring, A pretty kind of sort of kind of thing, Not much a verse, and poem none at all, Yet, as they say, extremely natural. And yet I know not. There’s an art in pies, In raising crusts as well as galleries; And he’s the poet, more or […]...
9. On Reading Omar Khayyam [During an anti-saloon campaign, in central Illinois.] In the midst of the battle I turned, (For the thunders could flourish without me) And hid by a rose-hung wall, Forgetting the murder about me; And wrote, from my wound, on the stone, In mirth, half prayer, half play: – “Send me a picture book, Send me […]...
10. The Ballad Of Reading Gaol (In memoriam C. T. W. Sometime trooper of the Royal Horse Guards Obiit H. M. prison, Reading, Berkshire July 7, 1896) I He did not wear his scarlet coat, For blood and wine are red, And blood and wine were on his hands When they found him with the dead, The poor dead woman whom […]...
11. ON FIRST READING JOHN GOODBY'S 'IRISH POETRY SINCE 1950&#039 Barbarous insult to Yeats’ memory and Claudel’s Allen, thank God you are dead, you who breathed the air of Apollinaire, Ghost of Reverdy bear witness to the mendacity of his clamour, Hart Crane, rise from the estuary of the great river you drowned in, John Clare, rise from your country churchyard grave, Gray, from your […]...
12. JOHANNA SEBUS [To the memory of an excellent and beautiful Girl of 17, belonging to the village of Brienen, who perished on The 13th of January, 1809, whilst giving help on the occasion of The breaking up of the ice on the Rhine, and the bursting of the Dam of Cleverham.] THE DAM BREAKS DOWN, THE ICE-PLAIN […]...
13. Return Return often and take me, Beloved sensation, return and take me When the memory of the body awakens, And an old desire runs again through the blood; When the lips and the skin remember, And the hands feel as if they touch again. Return often and take me at night, When the lips and the […]...
14. Who is now Reading This? WHO is now reading this? May-be one is now reading this who knows some wrong-doing of my past life, Or may-be a stranger is reading this who has secretly loved me, Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions and egotisms with derision, Or may-be one who is puzzled at me. As if I […]...
15. Mother’s Smile For my wife, Elizabeth Harris Burch, and my mother, Christine Ena Burch There never was a fonder smile Than mother’s smile, no softer touch Than mother’s touch. So sleep awhile And know she loves you more than “much. ” So more than “much, ” much more than “all. ” Though tender words, these do not […]...
16. The Poetry Reading at high noon At a small college near the beach Sober The sweat running down my arms A spot of sweat on the table I flatten it with my finger Blood money blood money My god they must think I love this like the others But it’s for bread and beer and rent Blood money […]...
17. Silence of reading i like the silence of reading Flat on my stomach on the woollen floor My legs waving upwards like the fronds of ferns And in my mind Gigantic screaming monsters Or the mystery ship Scuttling crablike to the shore I am lost to the spell of words The enchantment of sea in the silent shell […]...
18. Written Before Re-Reading King Lear O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute! Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away! Leave melodizing on this wintry day, Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute. Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute Betwixt damnation and impassioned clay Must I burn through; once more humbly assay The bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit. Chief Poet! […]...
19. A Poetry Reading At West Point I read to the entire plebe class, In two batches. Twice the hall filled With bodies dressed alike, each toting A copy of my book. What would my Shrink say, if I had one, about Such a dream, if it were a dream? Question and answer time. “Sir,” a cadet yelled from the balcony, And […]...
20. Lines On Reading Too Many Poets Roses, rooted warm in earth, Bud in rhyme, another age; Lilies know a ghostly birth Strewn along a patterned page; Golden lad and chimbley sweep Die; and so their song shall keep. Wind that in Arcadia starts In and out a couplet plays; And the drums of bitter hearts Beat the measure of a phrase. […]...
21. Reading The Brothers Grimm To Jenny Jenny, your mind commands Kingdoms of black and white: You shoulder the crow on your left, The snowbird on your right; For you the cinders part And let the lentils through, And noise falls into place As screech or sweet roo-coo, While in my own, real, world Gray foxes and gray wolves Bargain eye to […]...
22. A Study Of Reading Habits When getting my nose in a book Cured most things short of school, It was worth ruining my eyes To know I could still keep cool, And deal out the old right hook To dirty dogs twice my size. Later, with inch-thick specs, Evil was just my lark: Me and my coat and fangs Had […]...
23. On Reading A Recent Greek Poet After the wailing had already begun Along the walls, their ruin certain, The Trojans fidgeted with bits of wood In the three-ply doors, itsy-bitsy Pieces of wood, fussing with them. And began to get their nerve back and feel hopeful....
24. After Reading "Antony And Cleopatra&quot AS when the hunt by holt and field Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our spirits throughout life. The sea’s roar fills us aching full Of objectless desire – The sea’s roar, and the white moon-shine, And the reddening of the fire. Who talks to me of reason now? It […]...
25. Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window Sunday, I am eating a Grapefruit, church is over at the Russian Orthadox to the West. She is dark Of Eastern descent, Large brown eyes look up from the Bible Then down. a small red and black Bible, and as she reads Her legs keep moving, moving, She is doing a slow rythmic dance Reading […]...
26. Growing Old Somehow the skies don’t seem so blue As they used to be; Blossoms have a fainter hue, Grass less green I see. There’s no twinkle in a star, Dawns don’t seem so gold. . . Yet, of course, I know they are: Guess I’m growing old. Somehow sunshine seems less bright, Birds less gladly sing; […]...
27. Sun of the Sleepless! Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star! Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far, That show’st the darkness thou canst not dispel, How like art thou to joy remember’d well! So gleams the past, the light of other days, Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays; A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold, Distinct but distant […]...
28. Ah, that Murphy girl Let’s talk about the weather then, Would that help you take your ease? Gossip is so rare from you The noise of falling leaves is louder than Your breathing; if breathing is whatever is Sustaining you. – Weather? Not at any cost, As old as I might seem I’m not yet dead, I haven’t lost […]...
29. 214. Song-How Long and Dreary is the Night HOW long and dreary is the night, When I am frae my dearie! I sleepless lie frae e’en to morn, Tho’ I were ne’er so weary: I sleepless lie frae e’en to morn, Tho’ I were ne’er sae weary! When I think on the happy days I spent wi’ you my dearie: And now what […]...
30. Ice Handler I KNOW an ice handler who wears a flannel shirt with Pearl buttons the size of a dollar, And he lugs a hundred-pound hunk into a saloon ice- Box, helps himself to cold ham and rye bread, Tells the bartender it’s hotter than yesterday and will be Hotter yet to-morrow, by Jesus, And is on […]...
31. Where's the Poker? The poker lost, poor Susan storm’d, And all the rites of rage perform’d; As scolding, crying, swearing, sweating, Abusing, fidgetting, and fretting. “Nothing but villany, and thieving; Good heavens! what a world we live in! If I don’t find it in the morning, I’ll surely give my master warning. He’d better far shut up his […]...
32. The Men Who Wear My Clothes Sleepless I lay last night and watched the slow Procession of the men who wear my clothes: First, the grey man with bloodshot eyes and sly Gestures miming what he loves and loathes. Next came the cheery knocker-back of pints, The beery joker, never far from tears, Whose loud and public vanity acquaints The careful […]...
33. The Gardener LXXXI: Why Do You Whisper So Faintly Why do you whisper so faintly in My ears, O Death, my Death? When the flowers droop in the Evening and cattle come back to their Stalls, you stealthily come to my side And speak words that I do not Understand. Is this how you must woo and win Me with the opiate of drowsy […]...
34. Water It was a Maine lobster town- Each morning boatloads of hands Pushed off for granite Quarries on the islands, And left dozens of bleak White frame houses stuck Like oyster shells On a hill of rock, And below us, the sea lapped The raw little match-stick Mazes of a weir, Where the fish for bait […]...
35. Psalm 80 The church’s prayer under affliction; or, The vineyard of God wasted. Great Shepherd of thine Israel, Who didst between the cherubs dwell, And lead the tribes, thy chosen sheep, Safe through the desert and the deep; Thy church is in the desert now, Shine from on high and guide us through; Turn us to thee, […]...
36. Libido How should I know? The enormous wheels of will Drove me cold-eyed on tired and sleepless feet. Night was void arms and you a phantom still, And day your far light swaying down the street. As never fool for love, I starved for you; My throat was dry and my eyes hot to see. Your […]...
37. The Pilgrims Who is your lady of love, O ye that pass Singing? and is it for sorrow of that which was That ye sing sadly, or dream of what shall be? For gladly at once and sadly it seems ye sing. Our lady of love by you is unbeholden; For hands she hath none, nor eyes, […]...
38. Mother's Loss If I could clasp my little babe Upon my breast to-night, I would not mind the blowing wind That shrieketh in affright. Oh, my lost babe! my little babe, My babe with dreamful eyes; Thy bed is cold; and night wind bold Shrieks woeful lullabies. My breast is softer than the sod; This room, with […]...
39. Sleepless If I could have your arms tonight- But half the world and the broken sea Lie between you and me. The autumn rain reverberates in the courtyard, Beating all night against the barren stone, The sound of useless rain in the desolate courtyard Makes me more alone. If you were here, if you were only […]...
40. The White Lilies As a man and woman make A garden between them like A bed of stars, here They linger in the summer evening And the evening turns Cold with their terror: it Could all end, it is capable Of devastation. All, all Can be lost, through scented air The narrow columns Uselessly rising, and beyond, A […]...