The Emperor Of Ice-Cream

Related poetry:

1. Bleezer’s Ice Cream I am Ebenezer Bleezer, I run BLEEZER’S ICE CREAM STORE, There are flavors in my freezer You have never seen before, Twenty-eight divine creations Too delicious to resist, Why not do yourself a favor, Try the flavors on my list: COCOA MOCHA MACARONI TAPIOCA SMOKED BALONEY CHECKERBERRY CHEDDAR CHEW CHICKEN CHERRY HONEYDEW TUTTI-FRUTTI STEWED TOMATO […]...
2. The Funeral of the German Emperor Ye sons of Germany, your noble Emperor William now is dead. Who oft great armies to battle hath led; He was a man beloved by his subjects all, Because he never tried them to enthral. The people of Germany have cause now to mourn, The loss of their hero, who to them will ne’er return; […]...
3. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
4. Consummation Of Grief I even hear the mountains The way they laugh Up and down their blue sides And down in the water The fish cry And the water Is their tears. I listen to the water On nights I drink away And the sadness becomes so great I hear it in my clock It becomes knobs upon […]...
5. The Lonesome Child The baby in the looking-glass Is smiling through at me; She has her teaspoon in her hand, Her feeder on for tea. And if I look behind her I Can see the table spread; I wonder if she has to eat The nasty crusts of bread. Her doll, like mine, is sitting close Beside her […]...
6. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
7. Yad Mordechai Yad Mordechai. Those who fell here Still look out the windows like sick children Who are not allowed outside to play. And on the hillside, the battle is reenacted For the benefit of hikers and tourists. Soldiers of thin sheet iron Rise and fall and rise again. Sheet iron dead and a sheet iron life […]...
8. He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because […]...
9. Waiting For The Barbarians What are we waiting for, assembled in the forum? The barbarians are due here today. Why isn’t anything happening in the senate? Why do the senators sit there without legislating? Because the barbarians are coming today. What laws can the senators make now? Once the barbarians are here, they’ll do the legislating. Why did our […]...
10. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
11. Shakespeare Would that in body and spirit Shakespeare came Visible emperor of the deeds of Time, With Justice still the genius of his rhyme, Giving each man his due, each passion grace, Impartial as the rain from Heaven’s face Or sunshine from the heaven-enthroned sun. Sweet Swan of Avon, come to us again. Teach us to […]...
12. Kafka's Hat With the rain falling Surgically against the roof, I ate a dish of ice cream That looked like Kafka’s hat. It was a dish of ice cream Tasting like an operating table With the patient staring Up at the ceiling....
13. Who never lost, are unprepared Who never lost, are unprepared A Coronet to find! Who never thirsted Flagons, and Cooling Tamarind! Who never climbed the weary league Can such a foot explore The purple territories On Pizarro’s shore? How many Legions overcome The Emperor will say? How many Colors taken On Revolution Day? How many Bullets bearest? Hast Thou the […]...
14. Bringers COVER me over In dusk and dust and dreams. Cover me over And leave me alone. Cover me over, You tireless, great. Hear me and cover me, Bringers of dusk and dust and dreams....
15. Manuel Komninos One dreary September day Emperor Manuel Komninos Felt his death was near. The court astrologers – bribed, of course – went on babbling About how many years he still had to live. But while they were having their say, He remebered an old religious custom And ordered ecclesiastical vestments To be brought from a monastery, […]...
16. Here I Am drunk again at 3 a. m. at the end of my 2nd bottle Of wine, I have typed from a dozen to 15 pages of Poesy An old man Maddened for the flesh of young girls in this Dwindling twilight Liver gone Kidneys going Pancrea pooped Top-floor blood pressure While all the fear of the […]...
17. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say […]...
18. A curious Cloud surprised the Sky A curious Cloud surprised the Sky, ‘Twas like a sheet with Horns; The sheet was Blue The Antlers Gray It almost touched the lawns. So low it leaned then statelier drew And trailed like robes away, A Queen adown a satin aisle Had not the majesty....
19. Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth, That having such a scope to show her pride, The argument all bare is of more worth Than when it hath my added praise beside. O, blame me not if I no more can write! Look in your glass, and there appears a face That overgoes my blunt […]...
20. Name of Horses All winter your brute shoulders strained against collars, padding And steerhide over the ash hames, to haul Sledges of cordwood for drying through spring and summer, For the Glenwood stove next winter, and for the simmering range. In April you pulled cartloads of manure to spread on the fields, Dark manure of Holsteins, and knobs […]...
21. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS!...
22. How Is Your Heart? during my worst times on the park benches in the jails or living with whores I always had this certain contentment- I wouldn’t call it happiness- it was more of an inner balance that settled for whatever was occuring and it helped in the factories and when relationships went wrong with the girls. it helped […]...
23. In The Secular Night In the secular night you wander around Alone in your house. It’s two-thirty. Everyone has deserted you, Or this is your story; You remember it from being sixteen, When the others were out somewhere, having a good time, Or so you suspected, And you had to baby-sit. You took a large scoop of vanilla ice-cream […]...
24. Glass Words of a poem should be glass But glass so simple-subtle its shape Is nothing but the shape of what it holds. A glass spun for itself is empty, Brittle, at best Venetian trinket. Embossed glass hides the poem of its absence. Words should be looked through, should be windows. The best word were invisible. […]...
25. Susana Soca With lingering love she gazed at the dispersed Colors of dusk. It pleased her utterly To lose herself in the complex melody Or in the cunous life to be found in verse. Lt was not the primal red but rather grays That spun the fine thread of her destiny, For the nicest distinctions and all […]...
26. 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 and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
27. A Precise Woman A precise woman with a short haircut brings order To my thoughts and my dresser drawers, Moves feelings around like furniture Into a new arrangement. A woman whose body is cinched at the waist and firmly divided Into upper and lower, With weather-forecast eyes Of shatterproof glass. Even her cries of passion follow a certain […]...
28. To Perilla Ah, my Perilla, dost thou grieve to see Me day by day to steal away from thee? Age calls me hence, and my grey hairs bid come, And haste away to mine eternal home. ‘Twill not be long, Perilla, after this, That I must give thee the supremest kiss. Dead when I am, first cast […]...
29. His Meditation Upon Death BE those few hours, which I have yet to spend, Blest with the meditation of my end; Though they be few in number, I’m content; If otherwise, I stand indifferent, Nor makes it matter, Nestor’s years to tell, If man lives long, and if he live not well. A multitude of days still heaped on […]...
30. TO THE HUSBANDMAN SMOOTHLY and lightly the golden seed by the furrow is cover’d; Yet will a deeper one, friend, cover thy bones at the last. Joyously plough’d and sow’d! Here food all living is budding, E’en from the side of the tomb Hope will not vanish away. 1789.*...
31. Circe's Torment I regret bitterly The years of loving you in both Your presence and absence, regret The law, the vocation That forbid me to keep you, the sea A sheet of glass, the sun-bleached Beauty of the Greek ships: how Could I have power if I had no wish To transform you: as You loved my […]...
32. 276. Song-Whistle o'er the lave o't FIRST when Maggie was my care, Heav’n, I thought, was in her air, Now we’re married-speir nae mair, But whistle o’er the lave o’t! Meg was meek, and Meg was mild, Sweet and harmless as a child- Wiser men than me’s beguil’d; Whistle o’er the lave o’t! How we live, my Meg and me, How […]...
33. Lie Still, Sleep Becalmed Lie still, sleep becalmed, sufferer with the wound In the throat, burning and turning. All night afloat On the silent sea we have heard the sound That came from the wound wrapped in the salt sheet. Under the mile off moon we trembled listening To the sea sound flowing like blood from the loud wound […]...
34. The Harvest Bow As you plaited the harvest bow You implicated the mellowed silence in you In wheat that does not rust But brightens as it tightens twist by twist Into a knowable corona, A throwaway love-knot of straw. Hands that aged round ashplants and cane sticks And lapped the spurs on a lifetime of game cocks Harked […]...
35. A St. Helena Lullaby “A Priest in Spite of Himself” “How far is St. Helena from a little child at play!” What makes you want to wander there with all the world between. Oh, Mother, call your son again or else he’ll run away. (No one thinks of winter when the grass is green!) “How far is St. Helena […]...
36. Filling Station Oh, but it is dirty! this little filling station, Oil-soaked, oil-permeated To a disturbing, over-all Black translucency. Be careful with that match! Father wears a dirty, Oil-soaked monkey suit That cuts him under the arms, And several quick and saucy And greasy sons assist him (it’s a family filling station), All quite thoroughly dirty. Do […]...
37. A Morning Dream This morning I dreamed I followed Widely spaced bells, ringing in the wind, And climbed through mists to rosy clouds. I realized my destined affinity With An Ch’i-sheng the ancient sage. I met unexpectedly O Lu-hua The heavenly maiden. Together we saw lotus roots as big as boats. Together we ate jujubes as huge as […]...
38. Hops Beneath the willow wound round with ivy We take cover from the worst Of the storm, with a greatcoat round Our shoulders and my hands around your waist. I’ve got it wrong. That isn’t ivy Entwined in the bushes round The wood, but hops. You intoxicate me! Let’s spread the greatcoat on the ground....
39. Circles of Doors I LOVE him, I love him, ran the patter of her lips And she formed his name on her tongue and sang And she sent him word she loved him so much, So much, and death was nothing; work, art, home, All was nothing if her love for him was not first Of all; the […]...
40. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...