Bride and Groom Lie Hidden for Three Days

Related poetry:

1. Hidden If you place a fern Under a stone The next day it will be Nearly invisible As if the stone has Swallowed it. If you tuck the name of a loved one Under your tongue too long Without speaking it It becomes blood Sigh The little sucked-in breath of air Hiding everywhere Beneath your words. […]...
2. The Bride of Frankenstein The Baron has decided to mate the monster, To breed him perhaps, In the interests of pure science, his only god. So he goes up into his laboratory Which he has built in the tower of the castle To be as near the interplanetary forces as possible, And puts together the prettiest monster-woman you ever […]...
3. BRIDE OF THE WIND for Brenda Both had come with no gardener but the soul; I had myself expressed them in weariness, Like the last drop of milk from your tired breast. The red rose was no rose for me. My black rose shone in a silver dawn In the throat of the wind. On the tongue of the […]...
4. Walking To Oak-Head Pond, And Thinking Of The Ponds I Will Visit In The Next Days And Weeks What is so utterly invisible As tomorrow? Not love, Not the wind, Not the inside of a stone. Not anything. And yet, how often I’m fooled I’m wading along In the sunlight And I’m sure I can see the fields and the ponds shining Days ahead I can see the light spilling Like a shower […]...
5. Dreaming The Breasts Mother, Strange goddess face Above my milk home, That delicate asylum, I ate you up. All my need took You down like a meal. What you gave I remember in a dream: The freckled arms binding me, The laugh somewhere over my woolly hat, The blood fingers tying my shoe, The breasts hanging like two […]...
6. The Fury Of Guitars And Sopranos This singing Is a kind of dying, A kind of birth, A votive candle. I have a dream-mother Who sings with her guitar, Nursing the bedroom With a moonlight and beautiful olives. A flute came too, Joining the five strings, A God finger over the holes. I knew a beautiful woman once Who sang with […]...
7. Those Were The Days The sun came up before breakfast, Perfectly round and yellow, and we Dressed in the soft light and shook out Our long blond curls and waited For Maid to brush them flat and place The part just where it belonged. We came down the carpeted stairs One step at a time, in single file, Gleaming […]...
8. The Alligator Bride The clock of my days winds down. The cat eats sparrows outside my window. Once, she brought me a small rabbit Which we devoured together, under The Empire Table While the men shrieked Repossessing the gold umbrella. Now the beard on my clock turns white. My cat stares into dark corners Missing her gold umbrella. […]...
9. An Old Man To His Sleeping Young Bride As when the old moon lighted by the tender And radiant crescent of the new is seen, And for a moment’s space suggests the splendor Of what in its full prime it once has been, So on my waning years you cast the glory Of youth and pleasure, for a little hour; And life again […]...
10. The Bibliomaniac's Bride The women-folk are like to books, Most pleasing to the eye, Whereon if anybody looks He feels disposed to buy. I hear that many are for sale, Those that record no dates, And such editions as regale The view with colored plates. Of every quality and grade And size they may be found, Quite often […]...
11. Rich Days Welcome to you rich Autumn days, Ere comes the cold, leaf-picking wind; When golden stocks are seen in fields, All standing arm-in-arm entwined; And gallons of sweet cider seen On trees in apples red and green. With mellow pears that cheat our teeth, Which melt that tongues may suck them in; With blue-black damsons, yellow […]...
12. Days Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands. To each they offer gifts after his will, Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all. I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, Forgot my morning wishes, […]...
13. Tortures Nothing has changed. The body is susceptible to pain, It must eat and breathe air and sleep, It has thin skin and blood right underneath, An adequate stock of teeth and nails, Its bones are breakable, its joints are stretchable. In tortures all this is taken into account. Nothing has changed. The body shudders as […]...
14. Hidden From all I’ve done and all I’ve said Let them not seek to find who I’ve been. An obstacle stood and transformed My acts and way of my life. An obstacle stood and stopped me Many a time as I was going to speak. My most unobserved acts, And my writitings the most covered Thence […]...
15. THE BRIDE OF CORINTH [First published in Schiller’s Horen, in connection With a Friendly contest in the art of ballad-writing between the two Great poets, to which many of their finest works are owing.] ONCE a stranger youth to Corinth came, Who in Athens lived, but hoped that he From a certain townsman there might claim, As his father’s […]...
16. Hidden Things Let them not seek to discover who I was From all that I have done and said. An obstacle was there that transformed The deeds and the manner of my life. An obstacle was there that stopped me Many times when I was about to speak. Only from my most imperceptible deeds And my most […]...
17. South of my Days South of my days’ circle, part of my blood’s country, Rises that tableland, high delicate outline Of bony slopes wincing under the winter, Low trees, blue-leaved and olive, outcropping granite – Clean, lean, hungry country. The creek’s leaf-silenced, Willow choked, the slope a tangle of medlar and crabapple Branching over and under, blotched with a […]...
18. Tic Douloureux The trigger is sensation. The violin’s a dirty animal. I want you to take away the suddenness. Pain up the side of my head. I’ll have my teeth extracted one by one. See if it makes any difference. Rehearse for the real. Be either present or absent. I’ll let my fingers drum ebony. Thinking makes […]...
19. Hidden Flame Feed a flame within, which so torments me That it both pains my heart, and yet contains me: ‘Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it, That I had rather die than once remove it. Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it; My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes […]...
20. Four Days In Vermont Window’s tree trunk’s predominant face A single eye-leveled hole where limb’s torn off Another larger contorts to swell growing in around Imploding wound beside a clutch of thin twigs Hold to one two three four five six dry twisted Yellowish brown leaves flat against the other Gray trees in back stick upright then the glimpse […]...
21. The Hidden Life To tell the Saviour all my wants, How pleasing is the task! Nor less to praise Him when He grants Beyond what I can ask. My laboring spirit vainly seeks To tell but half the joy, With how much tenderness He speaks, And helps me to reply. Nor were it wise, nor should I choose, […]...
22. Hidden dangers Which things excited you the most when you were young, Can you recall the pleasures they would bring? Indulge Yourself, dispose your mind of daily care and take The plunge – but beware, there’s hidden dangers here. Have you ever sucked your thumb? And if you did would You admit you did? Did you ever […]...
23. His Own Face Hidden HOKUSAI’S portrait of himself Tells what his hat was like And his arms and legs. The only faces Are a river and a mountain And two laughing farmers. The smile of Hokusai is under his hat....
24. The Bride of Abydos “Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne’er been broken-hearted.” – Burns TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HOLLAND, THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED, WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT, BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED AND SINCERE FRIEND, BYRON. THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS CANTO THE […]...
25. Bride of Abydos, The “Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne’er been broken-hearted.” – Burns TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HOLLAND, THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED, WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT, BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED AND SINCERE FRIEND, BYRON. THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS CANTO THE […]...
26. 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 to, want to throw It away like an old worn-out cloak Or screw up like a ball of over-written Trash and toss into the corner bin. I said it must come up or out I […]...
27. The Gateway Now the heart sings with all its thousand voices To hear this city of cells, my body, sing. The tree through the stiff clay at long last forces Its thin strong roots and taps the secret spring. And the sweet waters without intermission Climb to the tips of its green tenement; The breasts have borne […]...
28. Teeth English Teeth, English Teeth! Shining in the sun A part of British heritage Aye, each and every one. English Teeth, Happy Teeth! Always having fun Clamping down on bits of fish And sausages half done. English Teeth! HEROES’ Teeth! Hear them click! and clack! Let’s sing a song of praise to them – Three Cheers […]...
29. Towards The Imminent Days (Section 4) In my aunt’s house, the milk jug’s beaded crochet cover Tickles the ear. We’ve eaten boiled things with butter. Pie spiced like islands, dissolving in cream, is now Dissolving in us. We’ve reached the teapot of calm. The table we sit at is fashioned of three immense Beech boards out of England. The minute widths […]...
30. Those Dancing Days Are Gone Come, let me sing into your ear; Those dancing days are gone, All that silk and satin gear; Crouch upon a stone, Wrapping that foul body up In as foul a rag: I carry the sun in a golden cup. The moon in a silver bag. Curse as you may I sing it through; What […]...
31. Hysteria As she laughed I was aware of becoming involved in her laughter and being part of it, until her teeth Were only accidental stars with a talent for squad-drill. I was drawn in by short gasps, inhaled at Each momentary recovery, lost finally in the dark caverns of her throat, bruised by the ripple of […]...
32. The Bride My love looks like a girl to-night, But she is old. The plaits that lie along her pillow Are not gold, But threaded with filigree silver, And uncanny cold. She looks like a young maiden, since her brow Is smooth and fair, Her cheeks are very smooth, her eyes are closed. She sleeps a rare […]...
33. THE BRIDE-CAKE This day, my Julia, thou must make For Mistress Bride the wedding-cake: Knead but the dough, and it will be To paste of almonds turn’d by thee; Or kiss it thou but once or twice, And for the bride-cake there’ll be spice....
34. THE INVISIBLE BRIDE THE low-voiced girls that go In gardens of the Lord, Like flowers of the field they grow In sisterly accord. Their whispering feet are white Along the leafy ways; They go in whirls of light Too beautiful for praise. And in their band forsooth Is one to set me free The one that touched my […]...
35. Bride Song From ‘The Prince’s Progress’ TOO late for love, too late for joy, Too late, too late! You loiter’d on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch Died without a mate; The enchanted princess in her tower Slept, died, behind the grate; Her heart was starving all this […]...
36. The Gardener X: Let Your Work Be, Bride Let your work be, bride. Listen, the Guest has come. Do you hear, he is gently shaking The chain which fastens the door? See that your anklets make no loud Noise, and that your step is not over- Hurried at meeting him. Let your work be, bride, the guest Had come in the evening. No, […]...
37. A Hand-Mirror HOLD it up sternly! See this it sends back! (Who is it? Is it you?) Outside fair costume-within ashes and filth, No more a flashing eye-no more a sonorous voice or springy step; Now some slave’s eye, voice, hands, step, A drunkard’s breath, unwholesome eater’s face, venerealee’s flesh, Lungs rotting away piecemeal, stomach sour and […]...
38. On The Wire O God, take the sun from the sky! It’s burning me, scorching me up. God, can’t You hear my cry? Water! A poor, little cup! It’s laughing, the cursed sun! See how it swells and swells Fierce as a hundred hells! God, will it never have done? It’s searing the flesh on my bones; It’s […]...
39. Music To Me Is Like Days Once played to attentive faces Music has broken its frame Its bodice of always-weak laces The entirely promiscuous art Pours out in public spaces Accompanying everything, the selections Of sex and war, the rejections. To jeans-wearers in zipped sporrans It transmits an ideal body Continuously as theirs age. Warrens Of plastic tiles and mesh throats […]...
40. Symptoms Although you have given me a stomach upset, Weak knees, a lurching heart, a fuzzy brain, A high-pitched laugh, a monumental phone bill, A feeling of unworthiness, sharp pain When you are somewhere else, a guilty conscience, A longing, and a dread of what’s in store, A pulse rate for the Guinness Book of Records […]...