Mother, Among The Dustbins

Related poetry:

1. Dream Song 11: His mother goes. The mother comes & goes His mother goes. The mother comes & goes. Chen Lung’s too came, came and crampt & then That dragoner’s mother was gone. It seem we don’t have no good bed to lie on, Forever. While he drawing his first breath, While skinning his knees, While he was so beastly with love for Charlotte Coquet He […]...
2. Mother o' Mine If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother […]...
3. Spartan Mother My mother loved her horses and Her hounds of pedigree; She did not kiss the baby hand I held to her in glee. Of course I had a sweet nou-nou Who tended me with care, And mother reined her nag to view Me with a critic air. So I went to a famous school, But […]...
4. To My Mother Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of “Mother,” Therefore by that dear name I long have called you- You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death […]...
5. O Germany, Pale Mother! Let others speak of her shame, I speak of my own. O Germany, pale mother! How soiled you are As you sit among the peoples. You flaunt yourself Among the besmirched. The poorest of your sons Lies struck down. When his hunger was great. Your other sons Raised their hands against him. This is notorious. […]...
6. The Virgin Mother WHO is that goddess to whom men should pray, But her from whom their hearts have turned away, Out of whose virgin being they were born, Whose mother nature they have named with scorn Calling its holy substance common clay. Yet from this so despised earth was made The milky whiteness of those queens who […]...
7. Dream Song 34: My mother has your shotgun. One man, wide My mother has your shotgun. One man, wide In the mind, and tendoned like a grizzly, pried To his trigger-digit, pal. He should not have done that, but, I guess, He didn’t feel the best, Sister, —felt less And more about less than us. . . ? Now—tell me, my love, if you recall The […]...
8. The Virgin Mother My little love, my darling, You were a doorway to me; You let me out of the confines Into this strange countrie, Where people are crowded like thistles, Yet are shapely and comely to see. My little love, my dearest Twice have you issued me, Once from your womb, sweet mother, Once from myself, to […]...
9. A Prayer for a Mother's Birthday Lord Jesus, Thou hast known A mother’s love and tender care: And Thou wilt hear, while for my own Mother most dear I make this birthday prayer. Protect her life, I pray, Who gave the gift of life to me; And may she know, from day to day, The deepening glow of Life that comes […]...
10. Mother's Loss If I could clasp my little babe Upon my breast to-night, I would not mind the blowing wind That shrieketh in affright. Oh, my lost babe! my little babe, My babe with dreamful eyes; Thy bed is cold; and night wind bold Shrieks woeful lullabies. My breast is softer than the sod; This room, with […]...
11. My Mother's Body 1. The dark socket of the year The pit, the cave where the sun lies down And threatens never to rise, When despair descends softly as the snow Covering all paths and choking roads: Then hawkfaced pain seized you Threw you so you fell with a sharp Cry, a knife tearing a bolt of silk. […]...
12. Mother, I cannot mind my Wheel MOTHER, I cannot mind my wheel; My fingers ache, my lips are dry: O, if you felt the pain I feel! But O, who ever felt as I? No longer could I doubt him true All other men may use deceit; He always said my eyes were blue, And often swore my lips were sweet....
13. Someone's Mother Someone’s Mother trails the street Wrapt in rotted rags; Broken slippers on her feet Drearily she drags; Drifting in the bitter night, Gnawing gutter bread, With a face of tallow white, Listless as the dead. Someone’s Mother in the dim Of the grey church wall Hears within a Christmas hymn, One she can recall From […]...
14. Old Memory O thought, fly to her when the end of day Awakens an old memory, and say, ‘Your strength, that is so lofty and fierce and kind, It might call up a new age, calling to mind The queens that were imagined long ago, Is but half yours: he kneaded in the dough Through the long […]...
15. Mother Earth Mother of all the high-strung poets and singers departed, Mother of all the grass that weaves over their graves the glory of the field, Mother of all the manifold forms of life, deep-bosomed, patient, impassive, Silent brooder and nurse of lyrical joys and sorrows! Out of thee, yea, surely out of the fertile depth below […]...
16. Gustav Richter After a long day of work in my hot-houses Sleep was sweet, but if you sleep on your left side Your dreams may be abruptly ended. I was among my flowers where some one Seemed to be raising them on trial, As if after-while to be transplanted To a larger garden of freer air. And […]...
17. A Young Child And His Pregnant Mother At four years Nature is mountainous, Mysterious, and submarine. Even A city child knows this, hearing the subway’s Rumor underground. Between the grate, Dropping his penny, he learned out all loss, The irretrievable cent of fate, And now this newest of the mysteries, Confronts his honest and his studious eyes His mother much too fat […]...
18. The Mother Poem (two) I always wanted to give birth Do that incredible natural thing That women do-I nearly broke down When I heard we couldn’t And then my man said to me Well there’s always adoption (we didn’t have test tubes and the rest Then) and well even in the early sixties there was something Scandalous about adopting […]...
19. My Mother Would Be a Falconress My mother would be a falconress, And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist, Would fly to bring back From the blue of the sky to her, bleeding, a prize, Where I dream in my little hood with many bells Jangling when I’d turn my head. My mother would be a falconress, And she sends […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. The Black Lace Fan My Mother Gave Me It was the first gift he ever gave her, Buying it for five five francs in the Galeries In pre-war Paris. It was stifling. A starless drought made the nights stormy. They stayed in the city for the summer. The met in cafes. She was always early. He was late. That evening he was later. […]...
22. The Negro Mother Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face dark as the night Yet shining like the sun with love’s true light. I am the dark […]...
23. The Suicide's Argument Ere the birth of my life, if I wished it or no No question was asked me it could not be so! If the life was the question, a thing sent to try And to live on be YES; what can NO be? to die. NATURE’S ANSWER Is’t returned, as ’twas sent? Is’t no worse […]...
24. My Mother On An Evening In Late Summer 1 When the moon appears And a few wind-stricken barns stand out In the low-domed hills And shine with a light That is veiled and dust-filled And that floats upon the fields, My mother, with her hair in a bun, Her face in shadow, and the smoke From their cigarette coiling close To the faint […]...
25. Child and mother O mother-my-love, if you’ll give me your hand, And go where I ask you to wander, I will lead you away to a beautiful land, The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder. We’ll walk in a sweet posie-garden out there, Where moonlight and starlight are streaming, And the flowers and the birds are filling the air […]...
26. The Mother-Lodge There was Rundle, Station Master, An’ Beazeley of the Rail, An’ ‘Ackman, Commissariat, An’ Donkin’ o’ the Jail; An’ Blake, Conductor-Sargent, Our Master twice was ‘e, With ‘im that kept the Europe-shop, Old Framjee Eduljee. Outside “Sergeant! Sir! Salute! Salaam!” Inside “Brother”, an’ it doesn’t do no ‘arm. We met upon the Level an’ we […]...
27. KINDERGARTEN PORTRAIT OF MY MOTHER AT MARDI GRAS She looks rather pathetic, really, Leaning against the black air, The three mangled fingers of her left hand Clutching a yellow purse, Her right arm raised over her head As if to shield herself From the silver shower of stars Raining down upon her. Her mouth is a crack Growing beneath her nose. Two dimples […]...
28. Mother and Poet I. Dead! One of them shot by the sea in the east, And one of them shot in the west by the sea. Dead! both my boys! When you sit at the feast And are wanting a great song for Italy free, Let none look at me! II. Yet I was a poetess only last […]...
29. Sonnet 10: For shame, deny that thou bear'st love to any For shame, deny that thou bear’st love to any Who for thy self art so unprovident. Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, But that thou none lov’st is most evident; For thou art so possessed with murd’rous hate, That ‘gainst thy self thou stick’st not to conspire, Seeking that beauteous roof to […]...
30. Sonnet for Mother Decked in blooms, Swaddled in gold filigreed shrouds, Smeared with perfumes, She traveled into the clouds. A life of love lived, A life of more giving than taking, Living a life of tears shed, Turnings, and missed crossings. She lies still beside father, In an earthen grave dug for her, On ere visits she knew […]...
31. 7. Ah, woe is me, my Mother dear AH, woe is me, my mother dear! A man of strife ye’ve born me: For sair contention I maun bear; They hate, revile, and scorn me. I ne’er could lend on bill or band, That five per cent. might blest me; And borrowing, on the tither hand, The deil a ane wad trust me. Yet […]...
32. [Greek Title] Long have I framed weak phantasies of Thee, O Willer masked and dumb! Who makest Life become, – As though by labouring all-unknowingly, Like one whom reveries numb. How much of consciousness informs Thy will Thy biddings, as if blind, Of death-inducing kind, Nought shows to us ephemeral ones who fill But moments in Thy […]...
33. Sonnet X For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any, Who for thyself art so unprovident. Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, But that thou none lovest is most evident; For thou art so possess’d with murderous hate That ‘gainst thyself thou stick’st not to conspire. Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate Which […]...
34. An Old Story (Retold in Rhyme) They threw him in a prison cell; He moaned upon his bed. And when he crept from coils of hell: “Last night you killed,” they said. “last night in drunken rage you slew A being brave with breath; A radiant soul, because of you Lies dark in death.” “last night I killed,” […]...
35. Prayer For a New Mother The things she knew, let her forget again- The voices in the sky, the fear, the cold, The gaping shepherds, and the queer old men Piling their clumsy gifts of foreign gold. Let her have laughter with her little one; Teach her the endless, tuneless songs to sing, Grant her her right to whisper to […]...
36. Week-Night Service The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never resting, Like spattering showers from a bursten sky-rocket dropping In splashes of sound, endlessly, never stopping. The silver moon That somebody has spun so high To settle the question, yes or no, has caught In […]...
37. Our Mother Pocahontas (Note: – Pocahontas is buried at Gravesend, England.) “Pocahontas’ body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw in November or a pawpaw in May – did she wonder? does she remember – in the dust – in the cool tombs?” CARL SANDBURG. I Powhatan was conqueror, Powhatan was emperor. He was akin to […]...
38. Fawn's Foster-Mother The old woman sits on a bench before the door and quarrels With her meagre pale demoralized daughter. Once when I passed I found her alone, laughing in the sun And saying that when she was first married She lived in the old farmhouse up Garapatas Canyon. (It is empty now, the roof has fallen […]...
39. A Fixed Idea What torture lurks within a single thought When grown too constant, and however kind, However welcome still, the weary mind Aches with its presence. Dull remembrance taught Remembers on unceasingly; unsought The old delight is with us but to find That all recurring joy is pain refined, Become a habit, and we struggle, caught. You […]...
40. Mother, Summer, I My mother, who hates thunder storms, Holds up each summer day and shakes It out suspiciously, lest swarms Of grape-dark clouds are lurking there; But when the August weather breaks And rains begin, and brittle frost Sharpens the bird-abandoned air, Her worried summer look is lost, And I her son, though summer-born And summer-loving, none […]...