Drunk As Drunk

Related poetry:

1. Could Man Be Drunk Forever Could man be drunk for ever With liquor, love, or fights, Lief should I rouse at morning And lief lie down of nights. But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts, And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts....
2. Sonnet 119: What potions have I drunk of Siren tears What potions have I drunk of Siren tears, Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within, Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears, Still losing when I saw my self to win! What wretched errors hath my heart committed, Whilst it hath thought it self so blessèd never! How have mine eyes out of their […]...
3. The Gardener XLII: O Mad, Superbly Drunk O mad, superbly drunk; If you kick open your doors and Play the fool in public; If you empty your bag in a night, And snap your fingers at prudence; If you walk in curious paths and Play with useless things; Reck not rhyme or reason; If unfurling your sails before the Storm you snap […]...
4. Praying Drunk Our Father who art in heaven, I am drunk. Again. Red wine. For which I offer thanks. I ought to start with praise, but praise Comes hard to me. I stutter. Did I tell you About the woman, whom I taught, in bed, This prayer? It starts with praise; the simple form Keeps things in […]...
5. Hymn to Pan Thrill with lissome lust of the light, O man! My man! Come careering out of the night Of Pan! Io Pan. Io Pan! Io Pan! Come over the sea From Sicily and from Arcady! Roaming as Bacchus, with fauns and pards And nymphs and styrs for thy guards, On a milk-white ass, come over the […]...
6. Drunk Too far away, oh love, I know, To save me from this haunted road, Whose lofty roses break and blow On a night-sky bent with a load Of lights: each solitary rose, Each arc-lamp golden does expose Ghost beyond ghost of a blossom, shows Night blenched with a thousand snows. Of hawthorn and of lilac […]...
7. Mystery Now I am all One bowl of kisses, Such as the tall Slim votaresses Of Egypt filled For a God’s excesses. I lift to you My bowl of kisses, And through the temple’s Blue recesses Cry out to you In wild caresses. And to my lips’ Bright crimson rim The passion slips, And down my […]...
8. A Ballad of Death Kneel down, fair Love, and fill thyself with tears, Girdle thyself with sighing for a girth Upon the sides of mirth, Cover thy lips and eyelids, let thine ears Be filled with rumour of people sorrowing; Make thee soft raiment out of woven sighs Upon the flesh to cleave, Set pains therein and many a […]...
9. 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 […]...
10. Out of White Lips OUT of white lips a question: Shall seven million dead ask for their blood a little land for the living wives and children, a little land for the living brothers and sisters? Out of white lips:-Shall they have only air that sweeps round the earth for breath of their nostrils and no footing on the […]...
11. The Gardener LXXXIII: She Dwelt on the Hillside She dwelt on the hillside by edge Of a maize-field, near the spring that Flows in laughing rills through the Solemn shadows of ancient trees. The Women came there to fill their jars, And travellers would sit there to rest And talk. She worked and dreamed Daily to the tune of the bubbling Stream. One […]...
12. Assurance Last night I slept, and when I woke her kiss Still floated on my lips. For we had strayed Together in my dream, through some dim glade, Where the shy moonbeams scarce dared light our bliss. The air was dank with dew, between the trees, The hidden glow-worms kindled and were spent. Cheek pressed to […]...
13. Change Upon Change Five months ago the stream did flow, The lilies bloomed within the sedge, And we were lingering to and fro, Where none will track thee in this snow, Along the stream, beside the hedge. Ah, Sweet, be free to love and go! For if I do not hear thy foot, The frozen river is as […]...
14. One Cigarette No smoke without you, my fire. After you left, Your cigarette glowed on in my ashtray And sent up a long thread of such quiet grey I smiled to wonder who would believe its signal Of so much love. One cigarette In the non-smoker’s tray. As the last spire Trembles up, a sudden draught Blows […]...
15. Poem (The spirit likes to dress up…) The spirit likes to dress up like this: ten fingers, ten toes, Shoulders, and all the rest at night in the black branches, in the morning In the blue branches of the world. It could float, of course, but would rather Plumb rough matter. Airy and shapeless thing, it needs the metaphor of the body, […]...
16. Silentium Amoris As often-times the too resplendent sun Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won A single ballad from the nightingale, So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail, And all my sweetest singing out of tune. And as at dawn across the level mead On wings impetuous […]...
17. I Arise From Dreams Of Thee I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me who knows how? To thy chamber-window, sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the dark, […]...
18. White Apples when my father had been dead a week I woke with his voice in my ear I sat up in bed And held my breath And stared at the pale closed door White apples and the taste of stone If he called again I would put on my coat and galoshes...
19. The Indian Serenade I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright. I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me – who knows how? To thy chamber-window, Sweet! The wandering airs they faint On the […]...
20. SUMMER FEVER The unsettled trees seem to share My tensions of body and mind: Unable to move before the shell of the wind, Yielding as much as their nature allows, They will break if pushed too far, Splinter to show the white flesh of their wood And sweet transparencies of sap. If 1 am pushed too far […]...
21. June The blue forest, chilled and blue, like the lips of the dead If the lips were gone. The year has been cut in half With dull scissors, the solstice still looking for its square On the calendar. Perhaps the scissors were really Lawn mowers or hoes. Perhaps God’s calendar is Chinese. As first I didn’t […]...
22. Leaf Sermon I have been spiritually poisoned By the unclean, in ignorance Blessed their springs. In consequence I withered And drifted down From green crown to brown humus, Thinned to a fishbone pattern Of cellulose threads. I washed into a stream Past stones squirming With black question marks Of dragonfly larvae, Slid through reeds Into eddying pools […]...
23. Behold this Swarthy Face BEHOLD this swarthy face-these gray eyes, This beard-the white wool, unclipt upon my neck, My brown hands, and the silent manner of me, without charm; Yet comes one, a Manhattanese, and ever at parting, kisses me lightly on the lips with robust love, And I, on the crossing of the street, or on the ship’s […]...
24. A Song of the White Men 1899 Now, this is the cup the White Men drink When they go to right a wrong, And that is the cup of the old world’s hate Cruel and strained and strong. We have drunk that cup and a bitter, bitter cup And tossed the dregs away. But well for the world when the White […]...
25. The wind (THE TALE) Cometh the Wind from the garden, fragrant and full of sweet singing Under my tree where I sit cometh the Wind to confession. “Out in the garden abides the Queen of the beautiful Roses Her do I love and to-night wooed her with passionate singing; Told I my love in those songs, and […]...
26. Sonnet XLIV: Press'd by the Moon Press’d by the Moon, mute arbitress of tides, While the loud equinox its power combines, The sea no more its swelling surge confines, But o’er the shrinking land sublimely rides. The wild blast, rising from the Western cave, Drives the huge billows from their heaving bed; Tears from their grassy tombs the village dead, And […]...
27. Breton Wife A Wintertide we had been wed When Jan went off to sea; And now the laurel rose is red And I wait on the quay. His berthing boat I watch with dread, For where, oh where is he? “Weep not, brave lass,” the Skipper said; “Return to you he will; In hospital he lies abed […]...
28. Amalia Angel-fair, Walhalla’s charms displaying, Fairer than all mortal youths was he; Mild his look, as May-day sunbeams straying Gently o’er the blue and glassy sea. And his kisses! what ecstatic feeling! Like two flames that lovingly entwine, Like the harp’s soft tones together stealing Into one sweet harmony divine, Soul and soul embraced, commingled, blended, […]...
29. Love and Sleep Lying asleep between the strokes of night I saw my love lean over my sad bed, Pale as the duskiest lily’s leaf or head, Smooth-skinned and dark, with bare throat made to bite, Too wan for blushing and too warm for white, But perfect-colored without white or red. And her lips opened amorously, and said […]...
30. That Distance Apart I am only nineteen My whole life is changing Tonight I see her Shuttered eyes in my dreams I cannot pretend she’s never been My stitches pull and threaten to snap My own body a witness Leaking blood to sheets milk to shirts My stretch marks Record that birth Though I feel like somebody is […]...
31. The Sunset Years of Samuel Shy Master I may be, But not of my fate. Now come the kisses, too many too late. Tell me, O Parcae, For fain would I know, Where were these kisses three decades ago? Girls there were plenty, Mint julep girls, beer girls, Gay younger married and headstrong career girls, The girls of my friends And […]...
32. In Memoriam Paul Celan Lay these words into the dead man’s grave Next to the almonds and black cherries – Tiny skulls and flowering blood-drops, eyes, And Thou, O bitterness that pillows his head. Lay these words on the dead man’s eyelids Like eyebrights, like medieval trumpet flowers That will flourish, this time, in the shade. Let the beheaded […]...
33. Lips and Eyes IN Celia’s face a question did arise, Which were more beautiful, her lips or eyes? ” We,” said the eyes, “send forth those pointed darts Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts.” ” From us,” repli’d the lips, “proceed those blisses Which lovers reap by kind words and sweet kisses.” Then wept the eyes, and from […]...
34. Quick And Bitter The end was quick and bitter. Slow and sweet was the time between us, Slow and sweet were the nights When my hands did not touch one another in despair but in the love Of your body which came Between them. And when I entered into you It seemed then that great happiness Could be […]...
35. To A Poor Old Woman munching a plum on The street a paper bag Of them in her hand They taste good to her They taste good To her. They taste Good to her You can see it by The way she gives herself To the one half Sucked out in her hand Comforted A solace of ripe plums Seeming […]...
36. Happiness In the afternoon I watched The she-bear; she was looking For the secret bin of sweetness – Honey, that the bees store In the trees’ soft caves. Black block of gloom, she climbed down Tree after tree and shuffled on Through the woods. And then She found it! The honey-house deep As heartwood, and dipped […]...
37. Valentine Too high, too high to pluck My heart shall swing. A fruit no bee shall suck, No wasp shall sting. If on some night of cold It falls to ground In apple-leaves of gold I’ll wrap it round. And I shall seal it up With spice and salt, In a carven silver cup, In a […]...
38. I Love You I love your lips when they’re wet with wine And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the lovelight lies Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm white flesh Touches mine in a fond embrace; I love your hair when the strands enmesh Your kisses against my […]...
39. 507. Song-Bonie Peg-a-Ramsay CAULD is the e’enin blast, O’ Boreas o’er the pool, An’ dawin’ it is dreary, When birks are bare at Yule. Cauld blaws the e’enin blast, When bitter bites the frost, And, in the mirk and dreary drift, The hills and glens are lost: Ne’er sae murky blew the night That drifted o’er the hill, […]...
40. When I Close My Eyes When I close my eyes I cannot reconstruct your face But the three-dimensional solidity or you Bursts through the tissues of my skin, Transmogrified by a tactile binary fusion. I have catalogued a lifetime of sensation with these fingers But the smell and taste and sound of our private moment together Lingers forever in my […]...