Arabian Nights

Related poetry:

1. Recollection of the Arabian Nights WHEN the breeze of a joyful dawn blew free In the silken sail of infancy, The tide of time flow’d back with me, The forward-flowing tide of time; And many a sheeny summer-morn, Adown the Tigris I was borne, By Bagdat’s shrines of fretted gold, High-walled gardens green and old; True Mussulman was I and […]...
2. I Said Coffee I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to cup My warm Soft breasts In your Un-calloused, Long, Tapered, Ring less fingered Hands?” I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to Run your tongue Along my neck Just below My left ear-lobe?” I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to […]...
3. The great journalist in spain Good editor Dana God bless him, we say Will soon be afloat on the main, Will be steaming away Through the mist and the spray To the sensuous climate of Spain. Strange sights shall he see in that beautiful land Which is famed for its soap and its Moor, For, as we understand, The scenery […]...
4. An old life Snow fell in the night. At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish Mounded softness where The Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made, I broomed snow off the car And drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart Before Amy opened To yank my Globe out of the bundle. Back, I set my cup of coffee Beside Jane, […]...
5. A Bunch of Roses Roses ruddy and roses white, What are the joys that my heart discloses? Sitting alone in the fading light Memories come to me here tonight With the wonderful scent of the big red roses. Memories come as the daylight fades Down on the hearth where the firelight dozes; Flicker and flutter the lights and shades, […]...
6. The Arabian Shawl “It is cold outside, you will need a coat What! this old Arabian shawl! Bind it about your head and throat, These steps… it is dark… my hand… you Might fall.” What has happened? What strange, sweet charm Lingers about the Arabian shawl… Do not tremble so! There can be no harm In just remembering […]...
7. The Gulf A Gulf of silence separates us from each other. I stand at one side of the gulf, you at the other. I cannot see you or hear you, yet know that you are there. Often I call you by your childish name And pretend that the echo to my crying is your voice. How can […]...
8. The Fight A man is fighting with a cup of coffee. The rules: he must not Break the cup nor spill its coffee; nor must the cup break the Man’s bones or spill his blood. The man said, oh the hell with it, as he swept the cup to The floor. The cup did not break but […]...
9. Ape And Coffee Some coffee had gotten on a man’s ape. The man said, Animal did you get on my coffee? No no, whistled the ape, the coffee got on me. You’re sure you didn’t spill on my coffee? said the man. Do I look like a liquid? peeped the ape. Well you sure don’t look human, said […]...
10. Mr. Dana, of the New York Sun Thar showed up out’n Denver in the spring uv ’81 A man who’d worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun. His name wuz Cantell Whoppers, ‘nd he wuz a sight ter view Ez he walked inter the orfice ‘nd inquired fer work ter do. Thar warn’t no places vacant then, fer be it understood, […]...
11. Windy Nights Whenever the moon and stars are set, Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet, A man goes riding by. Late in the night when the fires are out, Why does he gallop and gallop about? Whenever the trees are crying aloud, And ships are tossed at sea, By, on […]...
12. 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....
13. Summer Nights Lamoni, Iowa The factory siren tells workers time to go home Tells them the evening has begun. When living with the tall man Whom I didn’t love, I would wander The streets, dreaming of Italy. Trekking the handful of avenues With him, he would say look there Between pink cobblestones, There’s manure like mortar. The […]...
14. Nights Nothings Again WHO knows what I know When I have asked the night questions And the night has answered nothing Only the old answers? Who picked a crimson cryptogram, The tail light of a motor car turning a corner, Or the midnight sign of a chile con carne place, Or a man out of the ashes of […]...
15. These are the Nights that Beetles love These are the Nights that Beetles love From Eminence remote Drives ponderous perpendicular His figure intimate The terror of the Children The merriment of men Depositing his Thunder He hoists abroad again A Bomb upon the Ceiling Is an improving thing It keeps the nerves progressive Conjecture flourishing Too dear the Summer evening Without discreet […]...
16. Wild Nights Wild Nights! Wild Nights Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the Winds To a Heart in port Done with the Compass Done with the Chart! Rowing in Eden Ah, the Sea! Might I but moor Tonight In Thee!...
17. Who is it seeks my Pillow Nights Who is it seeks my Pillow Nights With plain inspecting face “Did you” or “Did you not,” to ask ‘Tis “Conscience” Childhood’s Nurse With Martial Hand she strokes the Hair Upon my wincing Head “All” Rogues “shall have their part in” what The Phosphorous of God...
18. How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights When people have put out the Lights And everything that has an Inn Closes the shutter and goes in How pompous the Wind must feel Noons Stepping to incorporeal Tunes Correcting errors of the sky And clarifying scenery How mighty the Wind must feel Morns Encamping on a […]...
19. Broken Dreams There is grey in your hair. Young men no longer suddenly catch their breath When you are passing; But maybe some old gaffer mutters a blessing Because it was your prayer Recovered him upon the bed of death. For your sole sake – that all heart’s ache have known, And given to others all heart’s […]...
20. ON THE LAKE [Written on the occasion of Goethe’s starting With his friend Passavant on a Swiss Tour.] I DRINK fresh nourishment, new blood From out this world more free; The Nature is so kind and good That to her breast clasps me! The billows toss our bark on high, And with our oars keep time, While cloudy […]...
21. A Miracle For Breakfast At six o’clock we were waiting for coffee, Waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb That was going to be served from a certain balcony -like kings of old, or like a miracle. It was still dark. One foot of the sun Steadied itself on a long ripple in the river. The first ferry of […]...
22. Farewell FAREWELL, and when forth I through the Golden Gates to Golden Isles Steer without smiling, through the sea of smiles, Isle upon isle, in the seas of the south, Isle upon island, sea upon sea, Why should I sail, why should the breeze? I have been young, and I have counted friends. A hopeless sail […]...
23. You Only a long, low-lying lane That follows to the misty sea, Across a bare and russet plain Where wild winds whistle vagrantly; I know that many a fairer path With lure of song and bloom may woo, But oh! I love this lonely strath Because it is so full of you. Here we have walked […]...
24. A Red Flower Your lips are like a southern lily red, Wet with the soft rain-kisses of the night, In which the brown bee buries deep its head, When still the dawn’s a silver sea of light. Your lips betray the secret of your soul, The dark delicious essence that is you, A mystery of life, the flaming […]...
25. Lullaby Sleep, pretty lady, the night is enfolding you; Drift, and so lightly, on crystalline streams. Wrapped in its perfumes, the darkness is holding you; Starlight bespangles the way of your dreams. Chorus the nightingales, wistfully amorous; Blessedly quiet, the blare of the day. All the sweet hours may your visions be glamorous- Sleep, pretty lady, […]...
26. The Owl When cats run home and light is come, And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round; Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits. When merry milkmaids click the latch, And rarely smells […]...
27. My Mother I Reg wished me to go with him to the field, I paused because I did not want to go; But in her quiet way she made me yield Reluctantly, for she was breathing low. Her hand she slowly lifted from her lap And, smiling sadly in the old sweet way, She pointed to the […]...
28. Cappuccino smile Ah, the aromas of that conversation, The brimming, cappuccino smile Swirled in chocolate rich and cinnamoned, The gentle coffee curlicues interlaced In arabesques of creamy foam, redolent Upon your lips, lilted in the cup of your Countenance, glazed in syrup gilt. Your words were velvet plumes Of soothing, honeyed dews You tea-spooned in my mind, […]...
29. Cups of Coffee THE HAGGARD woman with a hacking cough and a deathless love whispers of white Flowers… in your poem you pour like a cup of coffee, Gabriel. The slim girl whose voice was lost in the waves of flesh piled on her bones… and The woman who sold to many men and saw her breasts shrivel… […]...
30. IN SUMMER How plain and height With dewdrops are bright! How pearls have crown’d The plants all around! How sighs the breeze Thro’ thicket and trees! How loudly in the sun’s clear rays The sweet birds carol forth their lays! But, ah! above, Where saw I my love, Within her room, Small, mantled in gloom, Enclosed around, […]...
31. Monte Carlo Memories We took turns Watching seagulls there Walking on A tilted shore Of ancient waves And modern ships Sparkling in a Merchant’s breeze- Holding hands And getting wet In Monte Carlo Memories: You and I washing In a crystal sunset....
32. The Fugitive The air is perfumed with the morning’s fresh breeze, From the bush peer the sunbeams all purple and bright, While they gleam through the clefts of the dark-waving trees, And the cloud-crested mountains are golden with light. With joyful, melodious, ravishing, strain, The lark, as he wakens, salutes the glad sun, Who glows in the […]...
33. Valley Song YOUR eyes and the valley are memories. Your eyes fire and the valley a bowl. It was here a moonrise crept over the timberline. It was here we turned the coffee cups upside down. And your eyes and the moon swept the valley. I will see you again to-morrow. I will see you again in […]...
34. One Morning Looking for distinctive stones, I found the dead otter Rotting by the tideline, and carried all day the scent of this savage Valediction. That headlong high sound the oystercatcher makes Came echoing through the rocky cove Where a cormorant was feeding and submarining in the bay And a heron rose off a boulder where he’d […]...
35. Sonnet XL: On the Low Margin On the low margin of a murm’ring stream, As rapt in meditation’s arms I lay; Each aching sense in slumbers stole away, While potent fancy form’d a soothing dream; O’er the Leucadian deep, a dazzling beam Shed the bland light of empyrean day! But soon transparent shadows veil’d each ray, While mystic visions sprang athwart […]...
36. Two Blind Men Two blind men met. Said one: “This earth Has been a blackout from my birth. Through darkness I have groped my way, Forlorn, unknowing night from day. But you – though War destroyed your sight, Still have your memories of Light, And to allay your present pain Can live your golden youth again.” Then said […]...
37. Fleurette (The Wounded Canadian Speaks) My leg? It’s off at the knee. Do I miss it? Well, some. You see I’ve had it since I was born; And lately a devilish corn. (I rather chuckle with glee To think how I’ve fooled that corn.) But I’ll hobble around all right. It isn’t that, it’s my face. […]...
38. Rain Has Fallen All the Day Rain has fallen all the day. O come among the laden trees: The leaves lie thick upon the way Of memories. Staying a little by the way Of memories shall we depart. Come, my beloved, where I may Speak to your heart....
39. The Everlasting Battle WHEN in my shadowy hours I pierce the hidden heart of hopes and fears, They change into immortal joys or end in immemorial tears. Moytura’s battle still endures and in this human heart of mine The golden sun powers with the might of demon darkness intertwine. I think that every teardrop shed still flows from […]...
40. Tired And Unhappy, You Think Of Houses Tired and unhappy, you think of houses Soft-carpeted and warm in the December evening, While snow’s white pieces fall past the window, And the orange firelight leaps. A young girl sings That song of Gluck where Orpheus pleads with Death; Her elders watch, nodding their happiness To see time fresh again in her self-conscious eyes: […]...