Moles

Related poetry:

1. Davis Matlock Suppose it is nothing but the hive: That there are drones and workers And queens, and nothing but storing honey (Material things as well as culture and wisdom) For the next generation, this generation never living, Except as it swarms in the sun-light of youth, Strengthening its wings on what has been gathered, And tasting, […]...
2. The Snowflake Which Is Now And Hence Forever Will it last? he says. Is it a masterpiece? Will generation after generation Turn with reverence to the page? Birdseye scholar of the frozen fish, What would he make of the sole, clean, clear Leap of the salmon that has disappeared? To be, yes! whether they like it or not! But not to last when […]...
3. Among the Red Guns After waking at dawn one morning when the wind sang Low among dry leaves in an elm AMONG the red guns, In the hearts of soldiers Running free blood In the long, long campaign: Dreams go on. Among the leather saddles, In the heads of soldiers Heavy in the wracks and kills Of all straight […]...
4. Exeunt Piecemeal the summer dies; At the field’s edge a daisy lives alone; A last shawl of burning lies On a gray field-stone. All cries are thin and terse; The field has droned the summer’s final mass; A cricket like a dwindled hearse Crawls from the dry grass....
5. Vegetable Swallow two smiles meet towards The child-wheel of my zeal The bloody baggage of creatures Made flesh in physical legends-lives The nimble stags storms cloud over Rain falls under the scissors of The dark hairdresser-furiously Swimming under the clashing arpeggios In the machine’s sap grass Grows around with sharp eyes Here the share of our caresses […]...
6. ON HIMSELF A wearied pilgrim I have wander’d here, Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year; Long I have lasted in this world; ’tis true But yet those years that I have lived, but few. Who by his gray hairs doth his lustres tell, Lives not those years, but he that lives them well: One man has […]...
7. Reapers Black reapers with the sound of steel on stones Are sharpening scythes. I see them place the hones In their hip-pockets as a thing that’s done, And start their silent swinging, one by one. Black horses drive a mower through the weeds, And there, a field rat, startled, squealing bleeds, His belly close to ground. […]...
8. Cut While Shaving It’s never quite right, he said, the way people look, The way the music sounds, the way the words are Written. It’s never quite right, he said, all the things we are Taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we Die, all the lives we live, They are never quite right, They are […]...
9. Light and Dark NOT the soul that’s whitest Wakens love the sweetest: When the heart is lightest Oft the charm is fleetest. While the snow-frail maiden, Waits the time of learning, To the passion laden Turn with eager yearning. While the heart is burning Heaven with earth is banded: To the stars returning Go not empty-handed. Ah, the […]...
10. All the letters I can write All the letters I can write Are not fair as this Syllables of Velvet Sentences of Plush, Depths of Ruby, undrained, Hid, Lip, for Thee Play it were a Humming Bird And just sipped me...
11. The Anxious Dead O guns, fall silent till the dead men hear Above their heads the legions pressing on: (These fought their fight in time of bitter fear, And died not knowing how the day had gone.) O flashing muzzles, pause, and let them see The coming dawn that streaks the sky afar; Then let your mighty chorus […]...
12. Villanelle At Sundown Turn your head. Look. The light is turning yellow. The river seems enriched thereby, not to say deepened. Why this is, I’ll never be able to tell you. Or are Americans half in love with failure? One used to say so, reading Fitzgerald, as it happened. (That Viking Portable, all water spotted and yellow Remember?) […]...
13. My Country in Darkness After the wolves and before the elms The bardic order ended in Ireland. Only a few remained to continue A dead art in a dying land: This is a man On the road from Youghal to Cahirmoyle. He has no comfort, no food and no future. He has no fire to recite his friendless measures […]...
14. The Dance Take the name of the swain, a forlorn witless elf Who was chang’d to a flow’r for admiring himself. A part deem’d essential in each lady’s dress With what maidens cry when they wish to say yes. A lullabye carriage, soft, cozy and light With the name of the Poet who sang on the night. […]...
15. Why I Am a Liberal “Why?” Because all I haply can and do, All that I am now, all I hope to be, Whence comes it save from fortune setting free Body and soul the purpose to pursue, God traced for both? If fetters, not a few, Of prejudice, convention, fall from me, These shall I bid men each in […]...
16. A Flower Given to My Daughter Frail the white rose and frail are Her hands that gave Whose soul is sere and paler Than time’s wan wave. Rosefrail and fair yet frailest A wonder wild In gentle eyes thou veilest, My blueveined child....
17. If I should die If I should die, And you should live And time should gurgle on And morn should beam And noon should burn As it has usual done If Birds should build as early And Bees as bustling go One might depart at option From enterprise below! ‘Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand When we […]...
18. Psalm 90 Man mortal, and God eternal A mournful song at a funeral. Through every age, eternal God, Thou art our rest, our safe abode; High was thy throne ere heav’n was made, Or earth thy humble footstool laid. Long hadst thou reigned ere time began, Or dust was fashioned to a man; And long thy kingdom […]...
19. The Wish to be Generous ALL that I serve will die, all my delights, The flesh kindled from my flesh, garden and field, The silent lilies standing in the woods, The woods, the hill, the whole earth, all Will burn in man’s evil, or dwindle In its own age. Let the world bring on me The sleep of darkness without […]...
20. Long For This World I settle for less than snow, Try to go gracefully like seasons go Which will regain their ground – Ditch, hill and field – when a new year comes round. Now I know everything: How winter leaves without resenting spring, Lives in a safe time frame, Gives up so much but knows he can reclaim […]...
21. Like Trains of Cars on Tracks of Plush Like Trains of Cars on Tracks of Plush I hear the level Bee A Jar across the Flowers goes Their Velvet Masonry Withstands until the sweet Assault Their Chivalry consumes While He, victorious tilts away To vanquish other Blooms....
22. Wildpeace Not the peace of a cease-fire Not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb, But rather As in the heart when the excitement is over And you can talk only about a great weariness. I know that I know how to kill, that makes me an adult. And my son plays with a […]...
23. Love Lives Beyond The Tomb Love lives beyond the tomb, And earth, which fades like dew! I love the fond, The faithful, and the true. Love lives in sleep: ‘Tis happiness of healthy dreams: Eve’s dews may weep, But love delightful seems. ‘Tis seen in flowers, And in the morning’s pearly dew; In earth’s green hours, And in the heaven’s […]...
24. Guilt The clock is frozen in the tower, The thickening fog with sooty smell Has blanketed the motor power Which turns the London streets to hell; And footsteps with their lonely sound Intensify the silence round. I haven’t hope. I haven’t faith. I live two lives and sometimes three. The lives I live make life a […]...
25. The rest home professor piebald (the oldest man in the home) was meek At the same time ribald He clothed his matter (so to speak) In latin and (was it) greek It caused no great offence To nobody did it make sense To make a rude joke In languages nobody spoke Once he’d changed the word agenda At […]...
26. The Day grew small, surrounded tight The Day grew small, surrounded tight By early, stooping Night The Afternoon in Evening deep Its Yellow shortness dropt The Winds went out their martial ways The Leaves obtained excuse November hung his Granite Hat Upon a nail of Plush...
27. 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....
28. Let Us Have Madness Let us have madness openly. O men Of my generation. Let us follow The footsteps of this slaughtered age: See it trail across Time’s dim land Into the closed house of eternity With the noise that dying has, With the face that dead things wear Nor ever say We wanted more; we looked to find […]...
29. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 2. Old Yew, which graspest at the sto Old Yew, which graspest at the stones That name the under-lying dead, Thy fibres net the dreamless head, Thy roots are wrapt about the bones. The seasons bring the flower again, And bring the firstling to the flock; And in the dusk of thee, the clock Beats out the little lives of men. O not […]...
30. Shinto When sorrow lays us low For a second we are saved By humble windfalls Of the mindfulness or memory: The taste of a fruit, the taste of water, That face given back to us by a dream, The first jasmine of November, The endless yearning of the compass, A book we thought was lost, The […]...
31. Psalm 90 part 1 v.1-5 C. M. Man frail, and God eternal. Our God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home. Under the shadow of thy throne Thy saints have dwelt secure; Sufficient is thine arm alone, And our defence is sure. Before the hills […]...
32. And Yet The Books And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings, That appeared once, still wet As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn, And, touched, coddled, began to live In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up, Tribes on the march, planets in motion. “We are, ” they said, even as […]...
33. Rutherford McDowell They brought me ambrotypes Of the old pioneers to enlarge. And sometimes one sat for me- Some one who was in being When giant hands from the womb of the world Tore the republic. What was it in their eyes?- For I could never fathom That mystical pathos of drooped eyelids, And the serene sorrow […]...
34. Instants If I could live again my life, In the next – I’ll try, – to make more mistakes, I won’t try to be so perfect, I’ll be more relaxed, I’ll be more full – than I am now, In fact, I’ll take fewer things seriously, I’ll be less hygenic, I’ll take more risks, I’ll take […]...
35. 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 […]...
36. What Soft Cherubic Creatures What Soft Cherubic Creatures These Gentlewomen are One would as soon assault a Plush Or violate a Star Such Dimity Convictions A Horror so refined Of freckled Human Nature Of Deity ashamed It’s such a common Glory A Fisherman’s Degree Redemption Brittle Lady Be so ashamed of Thee...
37. Love And Marilyn Monroe (after Spillane) Let us be aware of the true dark gods Acknowledgeing the cache of the crotch The primitive pure and pwerful pink and grey private sensitivites Wincing, marvelous in their sweetness, whence rises the future. Therefore let us praise Miss Marilyn Monroe. She has a noble attitude marked by pride and candor She takes […]...
38. Sonnet 03 Why should you be astonished that my heart, Plunged for so long in darkness and in dearth, Should be revived by you, and stir and start As by warm April now, reviving Earth? I am the field of undulating grass And you the gentle perfumed breath of Spring, And all my lyric being, when you […]...
39. Crossing The Atlantic We sail out of season into on oyster-gray wind, Over a terrible hardness. Where Dickens crossed with mal de mer In twenty weeks or twenty days I cross toward him in five. Wraped in robes Not like Caesar but like liver with bacon I rest on the stern Burning my mouth with a wind-hot ash, […]...
40. Daisies It is possible, I suppose that sometime We will learn everything There is to learn: what the world is, for example, And what it means. I think this as I am crossing From one field to another, in summer, and the Mockingbird is mocking me, as one who either Knows enough already or knows enough […]...