My Room

Related poetry:

1. Room Ghost Though elegance I ill afford, My living-room is green and gold; The former tenant was a lord Who died of drinking, I am told. I fancy he was rather bored; I don’t think he was over old. And where on books I dully browse, And gaze in rapture at the sea, My predecessor world carouse […]...
2. The White Room The obvious is difficult To prove. Many prefer The hidden. I did, too. I listened to the trees. They had a secret Which they were about to Make known to me And then didn’t. Summer came. Each tree On my street had its own Scheherazade. My nights Were a part of their wild Storytelling. We […]...
3. Messy Room Whosever room this is should be ashamed! His underwear is hanging on the lamp. His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair, And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp. His workbook is wedged in the window, His sweater’s been thrown on the floor. His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV, And […]...
4. Room 7: The Coco-Fiend I look at no one, me; I pass them on the stair; Shadows! I don’t see; Shadows! everywhere. Haunting, taunting, staring, glaring, Shadows! I don’t care. Once my room I gain Then my life begins. Shut the door on pain; How the Devil grins! Grin with might and main; Grin and grin in vain; Here’s […]...
5. Echoes in an empty room The strident sounds of silence echo In a darkened room, a beggar’s tomb Of emptied space and barrenness, a Shameful waste, a bitter sadness. It violates all sense of being strips aside All causal meaning bound inside the shrinking Wrap that clings to surfaces debased, Insulates the tiny tap of time, a skulking Soulless mirthless […]...
6. To a Pupil IS reform needed? Is it through you? The greater the reform needed, the greater the personality you need to accomplish it. You! do you not see how it would serve to have eyes, blood, complexion, clean and sweet? Do you not see how it would serve to have such a Body and Soul, that when […]...
7. The Room Of My Life Here, In the room of my life The objects keep changing. Ashtrays to cry into, The suffering brother of the wood walls, The forty-eight keys of the typewriter Each an eyeball that is never shut, The books, each a contestant in a beauty contest, The black chair, a dog coffin made of Naugahyde, The sockets […]...
8. Of Three Or Four In The Room Out of three or four in the room One is always standing at the window. Forced to see the injustice amongst the thorns, The fires on the hills. And people who left whole Are brought home in the evening, like small change. Out of three or four in the room One is always standing at […]...
9. Empty Room The clock disserts on punctuation, syntax. The clock’s voice, thin and dry, asserts, repeats. The clock insists: a lecturer demonstrating, Loudly, with finger raised, when the class has gone. But time flows through the room, light flows through the room Like someone picking flowers, like someone whistling Without a tune, like talk in front of […]...
10. The room you know how it is with the room The door is frequently locked As i pass a white sigh Is pushed out from under As i bend to retrieve it The wood quivers with a woman’s breath There is a ruffle of crying Through the keyhole i am able To glimpse a red dress Clawing […]...
11. The sunshine seeks my little room The sunshine seeks my little room To tell me Paris streets are gay; That children cry the lily bloom All up and down the leafy way; That half the town is mad with May, With flame of flag and boom of bell: For Carnival is King to-day; So pen and page, awhile farewell....
12. Floorless Room, The I Wish that my Room had a Floor! I don’t so Much Care for a Door, But this Crawling Around Without Touching the Ground Is Getting to be Quite a Bore!...
13. The Room Through that window-all else being extinct Except itself and me-I saw the struggle Of darkness against darkness. Within the room It turned and turned, dived downward. Then I saw How order might-if chaos wished-become: And saw the darkness crush upon itself, Contracting powerfully; it was as if It killed itself, slowly: and with much pain. […]...
14. In The Waiting Room In Worcester, Massachusetts, I went with Aunt Consuelo To keep her dentist’s appointment And sat and waited for her In the dentist’s waiting room. It was winter. It got dark Early. The waiting room Was full of grown-up people, Arctics and overcoats, Lamps and magazines. My aunt was inside What seemed like a long time […]...
15. Futility Dusting my books I spent a busy day: Not ancient toes, time-hallowed and unread, But modern volumes, classics in their way, Whose makers now are numbered with the dead; Men of a generation more than mine, With whom I tattled, battled and drank wine. I worshipped them, rejoiced in their success, Grudging them not the […]...
16. Death Of A Cockroach I opened wide the bath-room door, And all at once switched on the light, When moving swift across the floor I saw a streak of ebon bright: Then quick, with slipper in my hand, Before it could escape, I slammed. I missed it once, I missed it twice, But got it ere it gained its […]...
17. Size circumscribes it has no room Size circumscribes it has no room For petty furniture The Giant tolerates no Gnat For Ease of Gianture Repudiates it, all the more Because intrinsic size Ignores the possibility Of Calumnies or Flies....
18. The Room It is an old story, the way it happens Sometimes in winter, sometimes not. The listener falls to sleep, The doors to the closets of his unhappiness open And into his room the misfortunes come Death by daybreak, death by nightfall, Their wooden wings bruising the air, Their shadows the spilled milk the world cries […]...
19. Gray Room Although you sit in a room that is gray, Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your green fan Printed with the red branches of a red willow; Or, with one […]...
20. 'Twas comfort in her Dying Room ‘Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock Diversion from the Dying Theme To hear the children play But wrong the more That these could live And this of ours must die....
21. June Sick Room The birds’ shrill fluting Beats on the pink blind, Pierces the pink blind At whose edge fumble the sun’s Fingers till one obtrudes And stirs the thick motes. The room is a close box of pink warmth. The minutes click. A man picks across the street With a metal-pointed stick. Three clocks drop each twelve […]...
22. De Amicitiis Though care and strife Elsewhere be rife, Upon my word I do not heed ’em; In bed I lie With books hard by, And with increasing zest I read ’em. Propped up in bed, So much I’ve read Of musty tomes that I’ve a headful Of tales and rhymes Of ancient times, Which, wife declares, […]...
23. Lover's Gifts VIII: There Is Room for You There is room for you. You are alone with your few sheaves of rice. My boat is crowded, it is heavily laden, but how can I turn you Away? Your young body is slim and swaying; there is a twinkling Smile in the edge of your eyes, and your robe is coloured like the Rain […]...
24. In Winter in my Room In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm Pink, lank and warm But as he was a worm And worms presume Not quite with him at home Secured him by a string To something neighboring And went along. A Trifle afterward A thing occurred I’d not believe it if I heard But state […]...
25. The Long Small Room THE long small room that showed willows in the west Narrowed up to the end the fireplace filled, Although not wide. I liked it. No one guessed What need or accident made them so build. Only the moon, the mouse, and the sparrow peeped In from the ivy round the casement thick. Of all they […]...
26. Four-Foot Shelf ‘Come, see,’ said he, ‘my four-foot shelf, A forty volume row; And every one I wrote myself, But that, of course, you know.’ I stared, I searched a memory dim, For though an author too, Somehow I’d never heard of him, None of his books I knew. Said I: ‘I’d like to borrow one, Fond […]...
27. Thompson's Lunch Room Grand Central Station Study in Whites Wax-white Floor, ceiling, walls. Ivory shadows Over the pavement Polished to cream surfaces By constant sweeping. The big room is coloured like the petals Of a great magnolia, And has a patina Of flower bloom Which makes it shine dimly Under the electric lamps. Chairs are ranged in rows Like sepia seeds […]...
28. For Harry (My College Room-mate who Died) He cut his hand and it bled, the flesh Inside was red and the hurt discounted the flood Of red and vibrant blood that pulsed From the wound. But he was a warrior, A son whose mien would not countenance the pain And he bound the wound in strips of flax And stalked from the […]...
29. In a Lecture Room Away, haunt thou me not, Thou vain Philosophy! Little hast thou bestead, Save to perplex the head, And leave the spirit dead. Unto thy broken cisterns wherefore go, While from the secret treasure-depths below, Fed by the skyey shower, And clouds that sink and rest on hilltops high, Wisdom at once, and Power, Are welling, […]...
30. The Lady's Dressing Room Five hours, (and who can do it less in?) By haughty Celia spent in dressing; The goddess from her chamber issues, Arrayed in lace, brocades, and tissues. Strephon, who found the room was void And Betty otherwise employed, Stole in and took a strict survey Of all the litter as it lay; Whereof, to make […]...
31. Room 5: The Concert Singer I’m one of these haphazard chaps Who sit in cafes drinking; A most improper taste, perhaps, Yet pleasant, to my thinking. For, oh, I hate discord and strife; I’m sadly, weakly human; And I do think the best of life Is wine and song and woman. Now, there’s that youngster on my right Who thinks […]...
32. Room 4: The Painter Chap He gives me such a bold and curious look, That young American across the way, As if he’d like to put me in a book (Fancies himself a poet, so they say.) Ah well! He’ll make no “document” of me. I lock my door. Ha! ha! Now none shall see. . . . Pictures, just […]...
33. Tom Beatty I was a lawyer like Harmon Whitney Or Kinsey Keene or Garrison Standard, For I tried the rights of property, Although by lamp-light, for thirty years, In that poker room in the opera house. And I say to you that Life’s a gambler Head and shoulders above us all. No mayor alive can close the […]...
34. Love In The Asylum A stranger has come To share my room in the house not right in the head, A girl mad as birds Bolting the night of the door with her arm her plume. Strait in the mazed bed She deludes the heaven-proof house with entering clouds Yet she deludes with walking the nightmarish room, At large […]...
35. Elysium is as far as to Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom What fortitude the Soul contains, That it can so endure The accent of a coming Foot The opening of a Door...
36. My Hundred Books A thousand books my library Contains; And all are primed, it seems to me With brains. Mine are so few I scratch in thought My head; For just a hundred of the lot I’ve read. A hundred books, but of the best, I can With wisdom savour and digest And scan. Yet when afar from […]...
37. Kings Must Die Alphonso Rex who died in Rome Was quite a fistful as a kid; For when I visited his home, That gorgeous palace in Madrid, The grinning guide-chap showed me where He rode his bronco up the stair. That stairway grand of marbled might, The most majestic in the land, In statured splendour, flight on flight, […]...
38. Dear Colette Dear Colette, I want to write to you About being a woman For that is what you write to me. I want to tell you how your face Enduring after thirty, forty, fifty. . . Hangs above my desk Like my own muse. I want to tell you how your hands Reach out from your […]...
39. No Lilies For Lisette Said the Door: “She came in With no shadow of sin; Turned the key in the lock, Slipped out of her frock, The robe she liked best When for supper she dressed. Then a letter she tore. . . What a wan look she wore!” Said the Door. Said the Chair: “She sat down With […]...
40. When I am dead, my dearest When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget. I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the […]...