The Duck

Related poetry:

1. Daffy Duck In Hollywood Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of “I Thought about You” or something mellow from Amadigi di Gaula for everything a mint-condition can Of Rumford’s Baking Powder, a celluloid earring, Speedy Gonzales, the latest from Helen Topping Miller’s fertile Escritoire, a sheaf of suggestive pix […]...
2. The old pond Following are several translations Of the ‘Old Pond’ poem, which may be The most famous of all haiku: Furuike ya Kawazu tobikomu Mizu no oto Basho Literal Translation Fu-ru (old) i-ke (pond) ya, Ka-wa-zu (frog) to-bi-ko-mu (jumping into) Mi-zu (water) no o-to (sound) The old pond A frog jumps in, sound of water. Translated by […]...
3. Ballad of Another Ophelia Oh the green glimmer of apples in the orchard, Lamps in a wash of rain! Oh the wet walk of my brown hen through the stackyard, Oh tears on the window pane! Nothing now will ripen the bright green apples, Full of disappointment and of rain, Brackish they will taste, of tears, when the yellow […]...
4. The Wreck of the Thomas Dryden As I stood upon the sandy beach One morn near Pentland Ferry, I saw a beautiful brigantine, And all her crew seem’d merry. When lo! the wind began to howl, And the clouds began to frown, And in the twinkling of an eye The rain came pouring down. Then the sea began to swell, And […]...
5. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
6. Chemin De Fer Alone on the railroad track I walked with pounding heart. The ties were too close together or maybe too far apart. The scenery was impoverished: scrub-pine and oak; beyond Its mingled gray-green foliage I saw the little pond Where the dirty old hermit lives, lie like an old tear Holding onto its injuries lucidly year […]...
7. Like A Scarf The directions to the lunatic asylum were confusing, More likely they were the random associations And confused ramblings of a lunatic. We arrived three hours late for lunch And the lunatics were stacked up on their shelves, Quite neatly, I might add, giving credit where credit is due. The orderlies were clearly very orderly, and […]...
8. The Swan At Edgewater Park Isn’t one of your prissy richpeoples’ swans Wouldn’t be at home on some pristine pond Chooses the whole stinking shoreline, candy wrappers, condoms in its tidal fringe Prefers to curve its muscular, slightly grubby neck into the body of a Great Lake, Swilling whatever it is swans swill, Chardonnay of algae with bouquet of crud, […]...
9. On why it is necessary to talk kindly to frogs i met a frog in my garden today Lurking under a stone – it said There used to be a pond here I know i said i had to dig it up Pity said the frog and looked at me As if i was the thickest mortal A garden without water it croaked Is worse […]...
10. 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 […]...
11. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
12. A Saucer holds a Cup A Saucer holds a Cup In sordid human Life But in a Squirrel’s estimate A Saucer hold a Loaf. A Table of a Tree Demands the little King And every Breeze that run along His Dining Room do swing. His Cutlery he keeps Within his Russer Lips To see it flashing when he dines Do […]...
13. The Hunter The hunter crouches in his blind ‘Neath camouflage of every kind And conjures up a quacking noise To lend allure to his decoys This grown-up man, with pluck and luck Is hoping to outwit a duck...
14. The Cat in the Kitchen (For Donald Hall) Have you heard about the boy who walked by The black water? I won’t say much more. Let’s wait a few years. It wanted to be entered. Sometimes a man walks by a pond, and a hand Reaches out and pulls him in. There was no Intention, exactly. The pond was lonely, […]...
15. Farewell and adieu 1914-18 Farewell and adieu to you, Harwich Ladies, Farewell and adieu to you, ladies ashore! For we’ve received orders to work to the eastward Where we hope in a short time to strafe ’em some more. We’ll duck and we’ll dive like little tin turtles, We’ll duck and we’ll dive underneath the North Seas, Until […]...
16. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
17. Walking Across The Atlantic I wait for the holiday crowd to clear the beach Before stepping onto the first wave. Soon I am walking across the Atlantic Thinking about Spain, Checking for whales, waterspouts. I feel the water holding up my shifting weight. Tonight I will sleep on its rocking surface. But for now I try to imagine what […]...
18. TWO LOVERS Bhaskar Roy Barman Once on an evening in a desolate place Far from the madding crowds eternal strife I stood closeted with the eve-beauty Manifested around the place, Exposing myself to the eerie and stifling air And trying to attune my ears to the bacchanalian fits Of silence dancing in moonlight. My eyes darted over […]...
19. Fergus Falling He climbed to the top Of one of those million white pines Set out across the emptying pastures Of the fifties – some program to enrich the rich And rebuke the forefathers Who cleared it all at once with ox and axe – Climbed to the top, probably to get out Of the shadow Not […]...
20. Twelve O'Clock Mother, I do want to leave off my lessons now. I have been at my Book all the morning. You say it is only twelve o’clock. Suppose it isn’t any later; Can’t you ever think it is afternoon when it is only twelve O’clock? I can easily imagine now that the sun has reached the […]...
21. Clapp's Pond Three miles through the woods Clapp’s Pond sprawls stone gray Among oaks and pines, The late winter fields Where a pheasant blazes up Lifting his yellow legs Under bronze feathers, opening Bronze wings; And one doe, dimpling the ground as she touches Its dampness sharply, flares Out of the brush and gallops away. * By […]...
22. Ducks and wisdom [from a motif by Jean Dunand (1877-1942)] Seven lacqueur ducks on a silver pond Their rippling held in a moveless frieze Nothing now can help them swim beyond The stoned edges (invent a new-age breeze) Eternity is water starved of trees Their fixture is our own – for all we fidget History puts us down […]...
23. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
24. Neutral Tones WE stood by a pond that winter day, And the sun was white, as though chidden of God, And a few leaves lay on the starving sod, They had fallen from an ash, and were gray. Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove Over tedious riddles solved years ago; And some words played […]...
25. The Pond Night covers the pond with its wing. Under the ringed moon I can make out Your face swimming among minnows and the small Echoing stars. In the night air The surface of the pond is metal. Within, your eyes are open. They contain A memory I recognize, as though We had been children together. Our […]...
26. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
27. The Land Of Beyond Have ever you heard of the Land of Beyond, That dreams at the gates of the day? Alluring it lies at the skirts of the skies, And ever so far away; Alluring it calls: O ye the yoke galls, And ye of the trail overfond, With saddle and pack, by paddle and track, Let’s go […]...
28. Autumn Begins In Martins Ferry, Ohio In the Shreve High football stadium, I think of Polacks nursing long beers in Tiltonsville, And gray faces of Negroes in the blast furnace at Benwood, And the ruptured night watchman of Wheeling Steel, Dreaming of heroes. All the proud fathers are ashamed to go home. Their women cluck like starved pullets, Dying for love. […]...
29. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
30. Days I am a Day. . . My sky is grey, My wind is wild, My sea high-piled: In year of days the first In misery. . . Oh pity me! I am a Day Accurst. “Sweet Day, not curst but blest: Behold upon my breast My baby born Your early morn. Safe in my arms […]...
31. May 24, 1980 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, Carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, Lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis, Dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles. From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives […]...
32. Atavism I was always afraid of Somes’s Pond: Not the little pond, by which the willow stands, Where laughing boys catch alewives in their hands In brown, bright shallows; but the one beyond. There, where the frost makes all the birches burn Yellow as cow-lilies, and the pale sky shines Like a polished shell between black […]...
33. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
34. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
35. Ghosts Some ghosts are women, Neither abstract nor pale, Their breasts as limp as killed fish. Not witches, but ghosts Who come, moving their useless arms Like forsaken servants. Not all ghosts are women, I have seen others; Fat, white-bellied men, Wearing their genitals like old rags. Not devils, but ghosts. This one thumps barefoot, lurching […]...
36. Affirmation To grow old is to lose everything. Aging, everybody knows it. Even when we are young, We glimpse it sometimes, and nod our heads When a grandfather dies. Then we row for years on the midsummer Pond, ignorant and content. But a marriage, That began without harm, scatters Into debris on the shore, And a […]...
37. A Ballad of Ducks The railway rattled and roared and swung With jolting and bumping trucks. The sun, like a billiard red ball, hung In the Western sky: and the tireless tongue Of the wild-eyed man in the corner told This terrible tale of the days of old, And the party that ought to have kept the ducks. “Well, […]...
38. The Lay of a Golden Goose Long ago in a poultry yard One dull November morn, Beneath a motherly soft wing A little goose was born. Who straightway peeped out of the shell To view the world beyond, Longing at once to sally forth And paddle in the pond. “Oh! be not rash,” her father said, A mild Socratic bird; Her […]...
39. The Banyan Tree O you shaggy-headed banyan tree standing on the bank of the pond, Have you forgotten the little chile, like the birds that have Nested in your branches and left you? Do you not remember how he sat at the window and wondered at The tangle of your roots and plunged underground? The women would come […]...
40. Hero Worship Said he: “You saw the Master clear; By Rushy Pond alone he sat, Serene and silent as a seer, In tweedy coat and seedy hat. You tell me you did not intrude, (Although his book was in your hand,) Upon his melancholy mood. . . I do not understand. “You did not tell him: ‘I […]...