Root Cellar

Related poetry:

1. I think that the Root of the Wind is Water I think that the Root of the Wind is Water It would not sound so deep Were it a Firmamental Product Airs no Oceans keep Mediterranean intonations To a Current’s Ear There is a maritime conviction In the Atmosphere...
2. Mother, Among The Dustbins Mother, among the dustbins and the manure I feel the measure of my humanity, an allure As of the presence of God, I am sure In the dustbins, in the manure, in the cat at play, Is the presence of God, in a sure way He moves there. Mother, what do you say? I too […]...
3. Sea Poppies Amber husk Fluted with gold, Fruit on the sand Marked with a rich grain, Treasure Spilled near the shrub-pines To bleach on the boulders: Your stalk has caught root Among wet pebbles And drift flung by the sea And grated shells And split conch-shells. Beautiful, wide-spread, Fire upon leaf, What meadow yields So fragrant a […]...
4. La Regina Avrillouse Lady of rich allure, Queen of the spring’s embrace, Your arms are long like boughs of ash, Mid laugh-broken streams, spirit of rain unsure, Breath of the poppy flower, All the wood thy bower And the hills thy dwelling-place. This will I no more dream; Warm is thy arm’s allure, Warm is the gust of […]...
5. Gifts GIVE a man a horse he can ride, Give a man a boat he can sail; And his rank and wealth, his strength and health, On sea nor shore shall fail. Give a man a pipe he can smoke, Give a man a book he can read: And his home is bright with a calm […]...
6. Earthfast Architects plant their imagination, weld their poems on rock, Clamp them to the skidding rim of the world and anchor them down to its core; Leave more than the painter’s or poet’s snail-bright trail on a friable leaf; Can build their chrysalis round them – stand in their sculpture’s belly. They see through stone, they […]...
7. Trees In The Garden Ah in the thunder air How still the trees are! And the lime-tree, lovely and tall, every leaf silent Hardly looses even a last breath of perfume. And the ghostly, creamy coloured little tree of leaves White, ivory white among the rambling greens How evanescent, variegated elder, she hesitates on the green grass As if, […]...
8. The Answer You have spoken the answer. A child searches far sometimes Into the red dust On a dark rose leaf And so you have gone far For the answer is: Silence. In the republic Of the winking stars and spent cataclysms Sure we are it is off there the answer Is hidden and folded over, Sleeping […]...
9. The Death Bed We watch’d her breathing thro’ the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. But when the morn came dim and sad And chill with early showers, Her queit eyelids closed – she had Another morn than ours....
10. At Baia I should have thought In a dream you would have brought Some lovely, perilous thing, Orchids piled in a great sheath, As who would say (in a dream), “I send you this, Who left the blue veins Of your throat unkissed.” Why was it that your hands (that never took mine), Your hands that I […]...
11. My Papa's Waltz The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy. We romped until the pans Slid from the kitchen shelf; My mother’s countenance Could not unfrown itself. The hand that held my wrist Was battered on one knuckle; At every step you missed […]...
12. Native Moments NATIVE moments! when you come upon me-Ah you are here now! Give me now libidinous joys only! Give me the drench of my passions! Give me life coarse and rank! To-day, I go consort with nature’s darlings-to-night too; I am for those who believe in loose delights-I share the midnight orgies of young men; I […]...
13. Little miss brag Little Miss Brag has much to say To the rich little lady from over the way And the rich little lady puts out a lip As she looks at her own white, dainty slip, And wishes that she could wear a gown As pretty as gingham of faded brown! For little Miss Brag she lays […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. Cuttings This urge, wrestle, resurrection of dry sticks, Cut stems struggling to put down feet, What saint strained so much, Rose on such lopped limbs to a new life? I can hear, underground, that sucking and sobbing, In my veins, in my bones I feel it The small waters seeping upward, The tight grains parting at […]...
16. The Assassin The correct death is written in. I will fill the need. My bow is stiff. My bow is in readiness. I am the bullet and the hook. I am cocked and held ready. In my sights I carve him Like a sculptor. I mold out His last look at everyone. I carry his eyes and […]...
17. Sonnet II Her courts are by the flux of flaming ways, Between the rivers and the illumined sky Whose fervid depths reverberate from on high Fierce lustres mingled in a fiery haze. They mark it inland; blithe and fair of face Her suitors follow, guessing by the glare Beyond the hilltops in the evening air How bright […]...
18. Through the Dark Sod as Education Through the Dark Sod as Education The Lily passes sure Feels her white foot no trepidation Her faith no fear Afterward in the Meadow Swinging her Beryl Bell The Mold-life all forgotten now In Ecstasy and Dell...
19. My Indian In-laws I remember India: Palm trees, monkey families, Fresh lime juice in the streets, The sensual inundation Of sights and smells And excess in everything. I was exotic and believable there. I was walking through dirt In my sari, To temples of the deities Following the lead Of my Indian in-laws. I was scooping up fire […]...
20. In The Deep Museum My God, my God, what queer corner am I in? Didn’t I die, blood running down the post, Lungs gagging for air, die there for the sin Of anyone, my sour mouth giving up the ghost? Surely my body is done? Surely I died? And yet, I know, I’m here. What place is this? Cold […]...
21. Felo de Se With Apologies to Mr. Swinburne. For repose I have sighed and have struggled ; have sigh’d and have struggled in vain; I am held in the Circle of Being and caught in the Circle of Pain. I was wan and weary with life ; my sick soul yearned for death; I was weary of women […]...
22. Nothing Gold Can Stay Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay....
23. To fight aloud, is very brave To fight aloud, is very brave But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe Who win, and nations do not see Who fall and none observe Whose dying eyes, no Country Regards with patriot love We trust, in plumed procession For such, the Angels go Rank after Rank, with even […]...
24. Blight Hard seeds of hate I planted That should by now be grown,- Rough stalks, and from thick stamens A poisonous pollen blown, And odors rank, unbreathable, From dark corollas thrown! At dawn from my damp garden I shook the chilly dew; The thin boughs locked behind me That sprang to let me through; The blossoms […]...
25. A Quick One Before I Go There comes a time in every man’s life When he thinks: I have never had a single Original thought in my life Including this one & therefore I shall Eliminate all ideas from my poems Which shall consist of cats, rice, rain Baseball cards, fire escapes, hanging plants Red brick houses where I shall give […]...
26. Lines Indited With All The Depravity Of Poverty One way to be very happy is to be very rich For then you can buy orchids by the quire and bacon by the flitch. And yet at the same time People don’t mind if you only tip them a dime, Because it’s very funny But somehow if you’re rich enough you can get away […]...
27. Loch Leven Beautiful Loch Leven, near by Kinross For a good day’s fishing the angler is seldom at a loss, For the Loch it abounds with pike and trout, Which can be had for the catching without any doubt; And the scenery around it is most beautiful to be seen, Especially the Castle, wherein was imprisoned Scotland’s […]...
28. The Stand-Ins In the dream The swastika is neon And flashes like a strobe light Into my eyes, all colors, All vibrations And I see the killer in him And he turns on an oven, An oven, an oven, an oven, And on a pie plate he sticks In my Yellow Star And then Then when it […]...
29. Ripeness With peace and rest And wisdom sage, Ripeness is best Of every age. With hands that fold In pensive prayer, For grave-yard mold Prepare. From fighting free With fear forgot, Let ripeness be, Before the rot. With heart of cheer At eighty odd, How man grows near To God! With passion spent And life nigh […]...
30. 255. Verses to Miss Cruickshank BEAUTEOUS Rosebud, young and gay, Blooming in thy early May, Never may’st thou, lovely flower, Chilly shrink in sleety shower! Never Boreas’ hoary path, Never Eurus’ pois’nous breath, Never baleful stellar lights, Taint thee with untimely blights! Never, never reptile thief Riot on thy virgin leaf! Nor even Sol too fiercely view Thy bosom blushing […]...
31. The Battle Heavy and solemn, A cloudy column, Through the green plain they marching came! Measure less spread, like a table dread, For the wild grim dice of the iron game. The looks are bent on the shaking ground, And the heart beats loud with a knelling sound; Swift by the breasts that must bear the brunt, […]...
32. Bixby's Landing They burned lime on the hill and dropped it down here in an iron car On a long cable; here the ships warped in And took their loads from the engine, the water is deep to the cliff. The car Hangs half way over in the gape of the gorge, Stationed like a north star […]...
33. Pea Brush I WALKED down alone Sunday after church To the place where John has been cutting trees To see for myself about the birch He said I could have to bush my peas. The sun in the new-cut narrow gap Was hot enough for the first of May, And stifling hot with the odor of sap […]...
34. Our Daily Bread “Give me my daily bread. It seems so odd, When all is done and said, This plea to God. To pray for cake might be The thing to do; But bread, it seems to me, Is just our due. “Give me my daily toil,” I ought to say – (If from life’s cursed coil I’d […]...
35. Leave Me, O Love Which Reachest But To Dust Leave me, O love which reachest but to dust, And thou, my mind, aspire to higher things; Grow rich in that which never taketh rust: Whatever fades but fading pleasure brings. Draw in thy beams, and humble all thy might To that sweet yoke where lasting freedoms be, Which breaks the clouds and opens forth […]...
36. Ho, everyone that thirsteth Ho, everyone that thirsteth And hath the price to give, Come to the stolen waters, Drink and your soul shall live. Come to the stolen waters, And leap the guarded pale, And pull the flower in season Before desire shall fail. It shall not last for ever, No more than earth and skies; But he […]...
37. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Book 2: I Breathing: you invisible poem! Complete Interchange of our own Essence with world-space. You counterweight In which I rythmically happen. Single wave-motion whose Gradual sea I am: You, most inclusive of all our possible seas- Space has grown warm. How many regions in space have already been Inside me. There are winds that seem like My […]...
38. A soft Sea washed around the House A soft Sea washed around the House A Sea of Summer Air And rose and fell the magic Planks That sailed without a care For Captain was the Butterfly For Helmsman was the Bee And an entire universe For the delighted crew....
39. Unprofitableness How rich, O Lord! how fresh thy visits are! ‘Twas but just now my bleak leaves hopeless hung Sullied with dust and mud; Each snarling blast shot through me, and did share Their youth, and beauty, cold showers nipt, and wrung Their spiciness and blood; But since thou didst in one sweet glance survey Their […]...
40. March The sun is hotter than the top ledge in a steam bath; The ravine, crazed, is rampaging below. Spring that corn-fed, husky milkmaid Is busy at her chores with never a letup. The snow is wasting (pernicious anemia See those branching veinlets of impotent blue?) Yet in the cowbarn life is burbling, steaming, And the […]...