The Sick God

Related poetry:

1. The Sick Rose O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm. That flies in the night In the howling storm: Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy....
2. Dream Song 134: Sick at 6 & sick again at 9 Sick at 6 & sick again at 9 Was Henry’s gloomy Monday morning oh. Still he had to lecture. They waited, his little children, for stricken Henry To rise up yet once more again and come oh. They figured he was a fixture, Nuts to their bolds, keys to their bloody locks. One day the […]...
3. Miscast II My heart is like a cleft pomegranate Bleeding crimson seeds And dripping them on the ground. My heart gapes because it is ripe and over-full, And its seeds are bursting from it. But how is this other than a torment to me! I, who am shut up, with broken crockery, In a dark closet!...
4. Alice Sick SICK, Alice grown, and fearing dire event, Some friend advised a servant should be sent Her confessor to bring and ease her mind; Yes, she replied, to see him I’m inclined; Let father Andrew instantly be sought: By him salvation usually I’m taught. A MESSENGER was told, without delay, To take, with rapid steps, the […]...
5. When I count the seeds When I count the seeds That are sown beneath, To bloom so, bye and bye When I con the people Lain so low, To be received as high When I believe the garden Mortal shall not see Pick by faith its blossom And avoid its Bee, I can spare this summer, unreluctantly....
6. Psalm 97 part 3 Grace and glory. Th’ Almighty reigns exalted high O’er all the earth, o’er all the sky; Though clouds and darkness veil his feet, His dwelling is the mercy-seat. O ye that love his holy name, Hate every work of sin and shame; He guards the souls of all his friends, And from the snares of […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. The Sick Stockrider Hold hard, Ned! Lift me down once more, and lay me in the shade. Old man, you’ve had your work cut out to guide Both horses, and to hold me in the saddle when I swayed, All through the hot, slow, sleepy, silent ride. The dawn at “Moorabinda” was a mist rack dull and dense, […]...
9. The Dark Forest Dark is the forest and deep, and overhead Hang stars like seeds of light In vain, though not since they were sown was bred Anything more bright. And evermore mighty multitudes ride About, nor enter in; Of the other multitudes that dwell inside Never yet was one seen. The forest foxglove is purple, the marguerite […]...
10. Sowing IT was a perfect day For sowing; just As sweet and dry was the ground As tobacco-dust. I tasted deep the hour Between the far Owl’s chuckling first soft cry And the first star. A long stretched hour it was; Nothing undone Remained; the early seeds All safely sown. And now, hark at the rain, […]...
11. Psalm 97 v.1,3,5-7,11 C. M. Christ’s incarnation, and the last judgment. Ye islands of the northern sea, Rejoice, the Savior reigns; His word, like fire, prepares his way, And mountains melt to plains. His presence sinks the proudest hills, And makes the valleys rise; The humble soul enjoys his smiles, The haughty sinner dies. The heav’ns his […]...
12. Sick Leave When I’m asleep, dreaming and lulled and warm,- They come, the homeless ones, the noiseless dead. While the dim charging breakers of the storm Bellow and drone and rumble overhead, Out of the gloom they gather about my bed. They whisper to my heart; their thoughts are mine. ‘Why are you here with all your […]...
13. The Sick Muse My impoverished muse, alas! What have you for me this morning? Your empty eyes are stocked with nocturnal visions, In your cheek’s cold and taciturn reflection, I see insanity and horror forming. The green succubus and the red urchin, Have they poured you fear and love from their urns? The nightmare of a mutinous fist […]...
14. The Sick Man and the Nightingale (From Lenau.) So late, and yet a nightingale? Long since have dropp’d the blossoms pale, The summer fields are ripening, And yet a sound of spring? O tell me, didst thou come to hear, Sweet Spring, that I should die this year; And call’st across from the far shore To me one greeting more?...
15. You And Me I’m part of people I have known And they are part of me; The seeds of thought that I have sown In other minds I see. There’s something of me in the throne And in the gallows tree. There’s something of me in each one With whom I work and play, For islanded there can […]...
16. "Sown in dishonor"! “Sown in dishonor”! Ah! Indeed! May this “dishonor” be? If I were half so fine myself I’d notice nobody! “Sown in corruption”! Not so fast! Apostle is askew! Corinthians 1. 15. narrates A Circumstance or two!...
17. A Sick Child The postman comes when I am still in bed. “Postman, what do you have for me today?” I say to him. (But really I’m in bed.) Then he says – what shall I have him say? “This letter says that you are president Of – this word here; it’s a republic.” Tell them I can’t […]...
18. The Sick Abbess EXAMPLE often proves of sov’reign use; At other times it cherishes abuse; ‘Tis not my purpose, howsoe’er, to tell Which of the two I fancy to excel. Some will conceive the Abbess acted right, While others think her conduct very light Be that as ’twill, her actions right or wrong, I’ll freely give a license […]...
19. Night Thoughts Over A Sick Child Numb, stiff, broken by no sleep, I keep night watch. Looking for Signs to quiet fear, I creep Closer to his bed and hear His breath come and go, holding My own as if my own were All I paid. Nothing I bring, Say, or do has meaning here. Outside, ice crusts on river And […]...
20. How sick to wait in any place but thine How sick to wait in any place but thine I knew last night when someone tried to twine Thinking perhaps that I looked tired or alone Or breaking almost with unspoken pain And I turned ducal That right was thine One port suffices for a Brig like mine Ours be the tossing wild though the […]...
21. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM A SWEET SICK YOUTH Charms, that call down the moon from out her sphere, On this sick youth work your enchantments here! Bind up his senses with your numbers, so As to entrance his pain, or cure his woe. Fall gently, gently, and a-while him keep Lost in the civil wilderness of sleep: That done, then let him, dispossess’d […]...
22. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
23. To Mrs. M. A. at Parting I Have examin’d and do find, Of all that favour me There’s none I grieve to leave behind But only only thee. To part with thee I needs must die, Could parting sep’rate thee and I. But neither Chance nor Complement Did element our Love ; ‘Twas sacred Sympathy was lent Us from the Quire […]...
24. Between the form of Life and Life Between the form of Life and Life The difference is as big As Liquor at the Lip between And Liquor in the Jug The latter excellent to keep But for ecstatic need The corkless is superior I know for I have tried...
25. But Wise Men Perceive Approaching Things Because gods perceive future things, men what is happening now, but wise men perceive approaching things. Philostratus, Life of Apollonius of Tyana, VIII, 7. Men know what is happening now. The gods know the things of the future, The full and sole possessors of all lights. Of the future things, wise men perceive Approaching things. […]...
26. Psalm 119 part 8 The word of God is the saint’s portion. Ver. 111, paraphrased. Lord, I have made thy word my choice, My lasting heritage; There shall my noblest powers rejoice, My warmest thoughts engage. I’ll read the histories of thy love, And keep thy laws in sight, While through the promises I rove, With ever fresh delight. […]...
27. 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 […]...
28. The Sower Sure of the spring that warms them into birth, The golden seeds thou trustest to the earth; And dost thou doubt the eternal spring sublime, For deeds the seeds which wisdom sows in time....
29. A Black Man Talks of Reaping I have sown beside all waters in my day. I planted deep, within my heart the fear That wind or fowl would take the grain away. I planted safe against this stark, lean year. I scattered seed enough to plant the land In rows from Canada to Mexico But for my reaping only what the […]...
30. On the Road to Nowhere On the road to nowhere What wild oats did you sow When you left your father’s house With your cheeks aglow? Eyes so strained and eager To see what you might see? Were you thief or were you fool Or most nobly free? Were the tramp-days knightly, True sowing of wild seed? Did you dare […]...
31. A Child of the Snows There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim, And never before or again, When the nights are strong with a darkness long, And the dark is alive with rain. Never we know but in sleet and in snow, The place where the great fires are, That the midst of the earth is a […]...
32. Manufactured Gods THEY put up big wooden gods. Then they burned the big wooden gods And put up brass gods and Changing their minds suddenly Knocked down the brass gods and put up A doughface god with gold earrings. The poor mutts, the pathetic slant heads, They didn’t know a little tin god Is as good as […]...
33. Weeds White with daisies and red with sorrel And empty, empty under the sky!- Life is a quest and love a quarrel- Here is a place for me to lie. Daisies spring from damned seeds, And this red fire that here I see Is a worthless crop of crimson weeds, Cursed by farmers thriftily. But here, […]...
34. Nothing is enough! No, though our all be spent Heart’s extremest love, Spirit’s whole intent, All that nerve can feel, All that brain invent, Still beyond appeal Will Divine Desire Yet more excellent Precious cost require Of this mortal stuff, Never be content Till ourselves be fire. Nothing is enough!...
35. The Holy of Holies ‘Elder father, though thine eyes Shine with hoary mysteries, Canst thou tell what in the heart Of a cowslip blossom lies? ‘Smaller than all lives that be, Secret as the deepest sea, Stands a little house of seeds, Like an elfin’s granary. ‘Speller of the stones and weeds, Skilled in Nature’s crafts and creeds, Tell […]...
36. Nothing Stays Put In memory of Father Flye, 1884-1985 The strange and wonderful are too much with us. The protea of the antipodes-a great, Globed, blazing honeybee of a bloom- For sale in the supermarket! We are in Our decadence, we are not entitled. What have we done to deserve All the produce of the tropics- This fiery […]...
37. Ample make this Bed Ample make this Bed Make this Bed with Awe In it wait till Judgment break Excellent and Fair. Be its Mattress straight Be its Pillow round Let no Sunrise’ yellow noise Interrupt this Ground...
38. A Last Word Let us go hence: the night is now at hand; The day is overworn, the birds all flown; And we have reaped the crops the gods have sown; Despair and death; deep darkness o’er the land, Broods like an owl; we cannot understand Laughter or tears, for we have only known Surpassing vanity: vain things […]...
39. In the Old Age of the Soul I do not choose to dream; there cometh on me Some strange old lust for deeds. As to the nerveless hand of some old warrior The sword-hilt or the war-worn wonted helmet Brings momentary life and long-fled cunning, So to my soul grown old – Grown old with many a jousting, many a foray, Grown […]...
40. Nevertheless you’ve seen a strawberry That’s had a struggle; yet Was, where the fragments met, A hedgehog or a star- Fish for the multitude Of seeds. What better food Than apple seeds – the fruit Within the fruit – locked in Like counter-curved twin Hazelnuts? Frost that kills The little rubber-plant – Leaves of kok-sagyyz-stalks, can’t […]...