The Hypermarket

Related poetry:

1. Outside History These are outsiders, always. These stars- These iron inklings of an Irish January, Whose light happened Thousands of years before […]...
2. THE SINGING SCHOOL The Poetry School, The Poetry Book Society, The Poetry Business: So much poetry about you’d think I’d want to shout, […]...
3. Account The history of my stupidity would fill many volumes. Some would be devoted to acting against consciousness, Like the flight […]...
4. PLEA FOR A HISTORY OF WORKING-CLASS LEEDS I want a true history of my city FUCK THE DE LACY FAMILY AND DOUBLE FUCK JOHN OF GAUNT ESPECIALLY […]...
5. Yesterday is History Yesterday is History, ‘Tis so far away Yesterday is Poetry ‘Tis Philosophy Yesterday is mystery Where it is Today While […]...
6. Momus Momus is the name men give your face, The brag of its tone, like a long low steamboat whistle Finding […]...
7. Horse Fiddle FIRST I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted in the teeth of a strong wind. […]...
8. Admire their style I’m reading fellow poets’ blogs today, A sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment Or resorting […]...
9. Every Silent Plant in the Garden (To: S. W.) Every silent plant in the garden knows Two sorts of wishes make up the world: One is […]...
10. The Appology ‘Tis true I write and tell me by what Rule I am alone forbid to play the fool To follow […]...
11. While History's Muse While History’s Muse the memorial was keeping Of all that the dark hand of Destiny weaves, Beside her the Genius […]...
12. Poems to Mulgrave and Scroope Deare Friend. I heare this Towne does soe abound, With sawcy Censurers, that faults are found, With what of late […]...
13. THE DEATH OF ART “Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.” -critic Harold Bloom, who first called slam […]...
14. Tomes There is a section in my library for death And another for Irish history, A few shelves for the poetry […]...
15. The House Of Dust: Part 01: 03: One, where the pale sea foamed at the yellow sand One, where the pale sea foamed at the yellow sand, With wave upon slowly shattering wave, Turned to the city […]...
16. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. […]...
17. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. […]...
18. At a Poetry Party I Am Given the Rhyme Chih Although I’ve studied poetry for thirty years I try to keep my mouth shut and avoid reputation. Now who is […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. Poetry And Religion Religions are poems. They concert Our daylight and dreaming mind, our Emotions, instinct, breath and native gesture Into the only […]...
21. To My Wife – With A Copy Of My Poems I can write no stately proem As a prelude to my lay; From a poet to a poem I would […]...
22. Called Into Play Fall fell: so that’s it for the leaf poetry: Some flurries have whitened the edges of roads And lawns: time […]...
23. An Invective against Gold OF all the Poisons that the fruitful Earth E’er yet brought forth, or Monsters she gave Birth, Nought to Mankind […]...
24. All That's Past Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the brier’s boughs, When March winds wake, So […]...
25. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for […]...
26. Preface This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about […]...
27. April 19 We have too much exhibitionism And not enough voyeurism In poetry we have plenty of bass And not enough treble, […]...
28. To Whom It May Concern In Autumn, As in Spring, The sap flows, The sap wishes to race Against heartbeats Before the winter, Before the […]...
29. The Man In The Bowler Hat I am the unnoticed, the unnoticable man: The man who sat on your right in the morning train: The man […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. THE DAYS GO BY for Daniel Weissbort Some poems meant only for my eyes About a grief I can’t let go But I want […]...
32. The Tired Worker O whisper, O my soul! The afternoon Is waning into evening, whisper soft! Peace, O my rebel heart! for soon […]...
33. My Cross I wrote a poem to the moon But no one noticed it; Although I hoped that late or soon Someone […]...
34. 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 […]...
35. Two Men There be two men of all mankind That I should like to know about; But search and question where I […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. A Historical Breakfast A man is bringing a cup of coffee to his face, Tilting it to his mouth. It’s historical, he thinks. […]...
38. Still I Rise You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt […]...
39. Thing Language This ocean, humiliating in its disguises Tougher than anything. No one listens to poetry. The ocean Does not mean to […]...
40. Affinity YOU and I have found the secret way, None can bar our love or say us nay: All the world […]...