Noon

Related poetry:

1. What Work Is We stand in the rain in a long line Waiting at Ford Highland Park. For work. You know what work is if you’re Old enough to read this you know what Work is, although you may not do it. Forget you. This is about waiting, Shifting from one foot to another. Feeling the light rain […]...
2. The Noon Hour SHE sits in the dust at the walls And makes cigars, Bending at the bench With fingers wage-anxious, Changing her sweat for the day’s pay. Now the noon hour has come, And she leans with her bare arms On the window-sill over the river, Leans and feels at her throat Cool-moving things out of the […]...
3. The Road That Runs Beside The River follows the river as it bends Along the valley floor, Going the way it must. Where water goes, so goes the road, If there’s room (not in a ravine, Gorge), the river On your right or left. Left is better: when you’re driving, It’s over your elbow across The road. You see the current, which […]...
4. Making Light Of It I call out a secret name, the name Of the angel who guards my sleep, And light grows in the east, a new light Like no other, as soft as the petals Of the blown rose in late summer. Yes, it is late summer in the West. Even the grasses climbing the Sierras Reach for […]...
5. The Other Under my bowels, yellow with smoke, It waits. Under my eyes, those milk bunnies, It waits. It is waiting. It is waiting. Mr. Doppelganger. My brother. My spouse. Mr. Doppelganger. My enemy. My lover. When truth comes spilling out like peas It hangs up the phone. When the child is soothed and resting on the […]...
6. A Noon Song There are songs for the morning and songs for the night, For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon; But who will give praise to the fulness of light, And sing us a song of the glory of noon? Oh, the high noon, the clear noon, The noon with golden crest; When the blue […]...
7. The Future A wanderer is man from his birth. He was born in a ship On the breast of the river of Time; Brimming with wonder and joy He spreads out his arms to the light, Rivets his gaze on the banks of the stream. As what he sees is, so have his thoughts been. Whether he […]...
8. It sifts from Leaden Sieves It sifts from Leaden Sieves It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road It makes an Even Face Of Mountain, and of Plain Unbroken Forehead from the East Unto the East again It reaches to the Fence It wraps it Rail by Rail Till it is lost in […]...
9. A Noon Interval A deep, delicious hush in earth and sky A gracious lull since, from its wakening, The morn has been a feverish, restless thing In which the pulse of Summer ran too high And riotous, as though its heart went nigh To bursting with delights past uttering: Now as an o’erjoyed child may cease to sing […]...
10. It bloomed and dropt, a Single Noon It bloomed and dropt, a Single Noon The Flower distinct and Red I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead Will equal glow, and thought no More But came another Day To find the Species disappeared The Same Locality The Sun in place no other fraud On Nature’s perfect Sum Had I but lingered […]...
11. First Sight Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold. As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, […]...
12. A London Thoroughfare. 2 A. M They have watered the street, It shines in the glare of lamps, Cold, white lamps, And lies Like a slow-moving river, Barred with silver and black. Cabs go down it, One, And then another. Between them I hear the shuffling of feet. Tramps doze on the window-ledges, Night-walkers pass along the sidewalks. The city is […]...
13. View Of The Capitol From The Library Of Congress Moving from left to left, the light Is heavy on the Dome, and coarse. One small lunette turns it aside And blankly stares off to the side Like a big white old wall-eyed horse. On the east steps the Air Force Band In uniforms of Air Force blue Is playing hard and loud, but queer […]...
14. So Now? the words have come and gone, I sit ill. The phone rings, the cats sleep. Linda vacuums. I am waiting to live, Waiting to die. I wish I could ring in some bravery. It’s a lousy fix But the tree outside doesn’t know: I watch it moving with the wind In the late afternoon sun. […]...
15. Any Night Look, the eucalyptus, the Atlas pine, The yellowing ash, all the trees Are gone, and I was older than All of them. I am older than the moon, Than the stars that fill my plate, Than the unseen planets that huddle Together here at the end of a year No one wanted. A year more […]...
16. Waiting For The Miracle (co-written by Sharon Robinson) Baby, I’ve been waiting, I’ve been waiting night and day. I didn’t see the time, I waited half my life away. There were lots of invitations And I know you sent me some, But I was waiting For the miracle, for the miracle to come. I know you really loved me. […]...
17. Cinema Screen Light’s patterns freeze: Frost on our faces. Light’s pollen sifts Through the lids of our eyes… Light sinks and rusts In water; is broken By glass… rests On deserted dust. Light lies like torn Paper in corners: A rock-pool’s pledge Of the sea’s return. Light, wrenched at the edges By wind, looks down At itself […]...
18. Traveling Through The Dark Traveling through the dark I found a deer Dead on the edge of the Wilson River road. It is usually best to roll them into the canyon: That road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead. By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car And stood by the heap, a doe, […]...
19. High Noon Time’s finger on the dial of my life Points to high noon! And yet the half-spent day Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark, Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end. To those who burn the candle to the stick, The sputtering socket yields but little light. Long life is sadder than early […]...
20. The Task: Book VI, The Winter Walk at Noon (excerpts) Thus heav’nward all things tend. For all were once Perfect, and all must be at length restor’d. So God has greatly purpos’d; who would else In his dishonour’d works himself endure Dishonour, and be wrong’d without redress. Haste then, and wheel away a shatter’d world, Ye slow-revolving seasons! We would see (A sight to which […]...
21. Psalm 107 part 2 Correction for sin, and release by prayer. From age to age exalt his name; God and his grace are still the same; He fills the hungry soul with food, And feeds the poor with every good. But if their hearts rebel and rise Against the God that rules the skies; If they reject his heav’nly […]...
22. The River Of Rivers In Connecticut There is a great river this side of Stygia Before one comes to the first black cataracts And trees that lack the intelligence of trees. In that river, far this side of Stygia, The mere flowing of the water is a gayety, Flashing and flashing in the sun. On its banks, No shadow walks. The […]...
23. Belle Isle, 1949 We stripped in the first warm spring night And ran down into the Detroit River To baptize ourselves in the brine Of car parts, dead fish, stolen bicycles, Melted snow. I remember going under Hand in hand with a Polish highschool girl I’d never seen before, and the cries Our breath made caught at the […]...
24. Fragment At last I entered a long dark gallery, Catacomb-lined; and ranged at the side Were the bodies of men from far and wide Who, motion past, were nevertheless not dead. “The sense of waiting here strikes strong; Everyone’s waiting, waiting, it seems to me; What are you waiting for so long? What is to happen?” […]...
25. Blue dress i can see through the blue Dress when you stand In the doorway – the light Come indoors softly like A cat between your legs When you walk and The dress flows Over the curved pebble Of your belly into The blue pool my eye Is already there Waiting for the ripple I have the […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. You'll know it as you know 'tis Noon You’ll know it as you know ’tis Noon By Glory As you do the Sun By Glory As you will in Heaven Know God the Father and the Son. By intuition, Mightiest Things Assert themselves and not by terms “I’m Midnight” need the Midnight say “I’m Sunrise” Need the Majesty? Omnipotence had not a Tongue […]...
28. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You I do not love you except because I love you; I go from loving to not loving you, From waiting to not waiting for you My heart moves from cold to fire. I love you only because it’s you the one I love; I hate you deeply, and hating you Bend to you, and the […]...
29. Snow Late December: my father and I Are going to New York, to the circus. He holds me On his shoulders in the bitter wind: Scraps of white paper Blow over the railroad ties. My father liked To stand like this, to hold me So he couldn’t see me. I remember Staring straight ahead Into the […]...
30. Two butterflies went out at Noon Two butterflies went out at Noon And waltzed upon a Farm Then stepped straight through the Firmament And rested, on a Beam And then together bore away Upon a shining Sea Though never yet, in any Port Their coming, mentioned be If spoken by the distant Bird If met in Ether Sea By Frigate, or […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. The Scottish Engineer With eyes that searched in the dark, Peering along the line, Stood the grim Scotsman, Hector Clark, Driver of “Forty-nine”. And the veldt-fire flamed on the hills ahead, Like a blood-red beacon sign. There was word of a fight to the north, And a column too hardly pressed, So they started the Highlanders forth. Heedless […]...
33. Silent Noon Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass, – The finger-points look through like rosy blooms: Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms ‘Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass. All round our nest, far as the eye can pass, Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge. […]...
34. Moving On In this war we’re always moving, Moving on; When we make a friend another friend has gone; Should a woman’s kindly face Make us welcome for a space, Then it’s boot and saddle, boys, we’re Moving on. In the hospitals they’re moving, Moving on; They’re here today, tomorrow they are gone; When the bravest and […]...
35. Lament For Meng Hao-Jan I can never see my old friend again- The river Han still streams to the east I might question some old man of his place- River and hills-empty is Tsaichou....
36. As plan for Noon and plan for Night As plan for Noon and plan for Night So differ Life and Death In positive Prospective The Foot upon the Earth At Distance, and Achievement, strains, The Foot upon the Grave Makes effort at conclusion Assisted faint of Love....
37. Noon Walk On The Asylum Lawn The summer sun ray Shifts through a suspicious tree. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow It sucks the air And looks around for me. The grass speaks. I hear green chanting all day. I will fear no evil, fear no evil The blades extend And reach my way. The sky breaks. It […]...
38. Ione, Dead the Long Year Empty are the ways, Empty are the ways of this land And the flowers Bend over with heavy heads. They bend in vain. Empty are the ways of this land Where Ione Walked once, and now does not walk But seems like a person just gone....
39. The Tourist From Syracuse One of those men who can be a car salesman or a tourist from Syracuse or a Hired assassin. John D. MacDonald You would not recognize me. Mine is the face which blooms in The dank mirrors of washrooms As you grope for the light switch. My eyes have the expression Of the cold eyes […]...
40. The Paroo It was a week from Christmas-time, As near as I remember, And half a year since, in the rear, We’d left the Darling timber. The track was hot and more than drear; The day dragged out for ever; But now we knew that we were near Our camp – the Paroo River. With blighted eyes […]...