A Warning To My Readers

Related poetry:

1. Warning PURE at heart we wander now: Comrade on the quest divine, Turn not from the stars your brow That your eyes may rest on mine. Pure at heart we wander now: We have hopes beyond to-day; And our quest does not allow Rest or dreams along the way. We are, in our distant hope, One […]...
2. Warning When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandles, and say we’ve no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired And gobble up […]...
3. WARNING WAKEN not Amor from sleep! The beauteous urchin still slumbers; Go, and complete thou the task, that to the day is assign’d! Thus doth the prudent mother with care turn time to her profit, While her babe is asleep, for ’twill awake but too soon. 1785.*...
4. The Warning For love-I would Split open your head and put A candle in Behind the eyes. Love is dead in us If we forget The virtues of an amulet And quick surprise....
5. THE WARNING WHEN sounds the trumpet at the Judgment Day, And when forever all things earthly die, We must a full and true account supply Of ev’ry useless word we dropp’d in play. But what effect will all the words convey Wherein with eager zeal and lovingly, That I might win thy favour, labour’d I, If on […]...
6. THE WARNING Beware! The Israelite of old, who tore The lion in his path, when, poor and blind, He saw the blessed light of heaven no more, Shorn of his noble strength and forced to grind In prison, and at last led forth to be A pander to Philistine revelry, Upon the pillars of the temple laid […]...
7. Fore-Warning I’d rather be the Jester than the Minstrel of the King; I’d rather jangle cap and bells than twang the stately harp; I’d rather make his royal ribs with belly-laughter ring, Than see him sitting in the suds and sulky as a carp. I’d rather be the Court buffoon than its most high-browed sage: So […]...
8. Warning to Children Children, if you dare to think Of the greatness, rareness, muchness Fewness of this precious only Endless world in which you say You live, you think of things like this: Blocks of slate enclosing dappled Red and green, enclosing tawny Yellow nets, enclosing white And black acres of dominoes, Where a neat brown paper parcel […]...
9. Sublime Was the Warning Sublime was the warning that liberty spoke, And grand was the moment when Spaniards awoke Into life and revenge from the conqueror’s chain. Oh, Liberty! let not this spirit have rest, Till it move, like a breeze, o’er the waves of the west Give the light of your look to each sorrowing spot, Nor, oh, […]...
10. Little Ballads Of Timely Warning; III: On Laziness And Its Resultant Ills There was a man in New York City (His name was George Adolphus Knight) So soft of heart he wept with pity To see our language and its plight. He mourned to see it sorely goaded With silent letters left and right; These from his own name he unloaded And wrote it Georg Adolfus Nit. […]...
11. Little Ballads Of Timely Warning; II: On Malicious Cruelty To Harmless Creatures The cruelty of P. L. Brown- (He had ten toes as good as mine) Was known to every one in town, And, if he never harmed a noun, He loved to make verbs shriek and whine. The “To be” family’s just complaints- (Brown had ten toes as good as mine) Made Brown cast off the […]...
12. The Power of the Dog There is sorrow enough in the natural way From men and women to fill our day; And when we are certain of sorrow in store, Why do we always arrange for more? Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. Buy a pup and your money will […]...
13. The Maid of Neidpath O lovers’ eyes are sharp to see, And lovers’ ears in hearing; And love, in life’s extremity, Can lend an hour of cheering. Disease had been in Mary’s bower And slow decay from mourning, Though now she sits on Neidpath’s tower To watch her Love’s returning. All sunk and dim her eyes so bright, Her […]...
14. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the […]...
15. Regret It’s not for laws I’ve broken That bitter tears I’ve wept, But solemn vows I’ve spoken And promises unkept; It’s not for sins committed My heart is full of rue, But gentle acts omitted, Kind deeds I did not do. I have outlived the blindness, The selfishness of youth; The canker of unkindness, The cruelty […]...
16. Poetry For Supper ‘Listen, now, verse should be as natural As the small tuber that feeds on muck And grows slowly from obtuse soil To the white flower of immortal beauty.’ ‘Natural, hell! What was it Chaucer Said once about the long toil That goes like blood to the poem’s making? Leave it to nature and the verse […]...
17. Reliance Not to the swift, the race: Not to the strong, the fight: Not to the righteous, perfect grace: Not to the wise, the light. But often faltering feet Come surest to the goal; And they who walk in darkness meet The sunrise of the soul. A thousand times by night The Syrian hosts have died; […]...
18. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
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 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 […]...
20. Ode To The Only Girl I’ve seen you many times in many places Theater, bus, train, or on the street; Smiling in spring rain, in winter sleet, Eyes of any hue in myriad faces; Midnight black, all shades of brown your hair, Long, short, bronze or honey-fair. Instantly have I loved, have never spoken; Slowly a truck passed, a light […]...
21. Spenser's Ireland has not altered; A place as kind as it is green, The greenest place I’ve never seen. Every name is a tune. Denunciations do not affect The culprit; nor blows, but it Is torture to him to not be spoken to. They’re natural, The coat, like Venus’ Mantle lined with stars, Buttoned close at the […]...
22. Landscapes Behind faces and gestures We remain mute And spoken words heavy With what we ignore or keep silent Betray us I dare not speak for mankind I know so little of myself But the Landscape I see as a reflection Is also a lie stealing into My words I speak without remorse Of this image […]...
23. 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 But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
24. 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 to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
25. Noon I bend to the ground To catch Something whispered, Urgent, drifting Across the ditches. The heaviness of Flies stuttering In orbit, dirt Ripening, the sweat Of eggs. There are Small streams The width ofa thumb Running in the villages Of sheaves, whole Eras of grain Wakening on The stalks, a roof That breathes over My […]...
26. 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 not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
27. Parting AS from our dream we died away Far off I felt the outer things; Your wind-blown tresses round me play, Your bosom’s gentle murmurings. And far away our faces met As on the verge of the vast spheres; And in the night our cheeks were wet, I could not say with dew or tears. As […]...
28. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
29. May 24, 1980 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, Carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, Lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis, Dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles. From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives […]...
30. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
31. To A Blossoming Pear Tree Beautiful natural blossoms, Pure delicate body, You stand without trembling. Little mist of fallen starlight, Perfect, beyond my reach, How I envy you. For if you could only listen, I would tell you something, Something human. An old man Appeared to me once In the unendurable snow. He had a singe of white Beard on […]...
32. Fall of the Evening Star Speak softly; sun going down Out of sight. Come near me now. Dear dying fall of wings as birds Complain against the gathering dark… Exaggerate the green blood in grass; The music of leaves scraping space; Multiply the stillness by one sound; By one syllable of your name… And all that is little is soon […]...
33. No One So Much As You No one so much as you Loves this my clay, Or would lament as you Its dying day. You know me through and through Though I have not told, And though with what you know You are not bold. None ever was so fair As I thought you: Not a word can I bear Spoken […]...
34. The Cat's Song Mine, says the cat, putting out his paw of darkness. My lover, my friend, my slave, my toy, says The cat making on your chest his gesture of drawing Milk from his mother’s forgotten breasts. Let us walk in the woods, says the cat. I’ll teach you to read the tabloid of scents, To fade […]...
35. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
36. My Comforter Well hast thou spoken, and yet, not taught A feeling strange or new; Thou hast but roused a latent thought, A cloud-closed beam of sunshine, brought To gleam in open view. Deep down, concealed within my soul, That light lies hid from men; Yet, glows unquenched – though shadows roll, Its gentle ray cannot control, […]...
37. TWO LOVERS Bhaskar Roy Barman Once on an evening in a desolate place Far from the madding crowds eternal strife I stood closeted with the eve-beauty Manifested around the place, Exposing myself to the eerie and stifling air And trying to attune my ears to the bacchanalian fits Of silence dancing in moonlight. My eyes darted over […]...
38. Water Babes We were water babes, born in the arms of a sparkling brook That patiently took us into its heart. At the very start we Were never far from its shingly banks, playing amid ranks Of serried wildflowers. When one of us all but drowned In a careless encounter the stream buoyed her up in a […]...
39. To A Lady Offended by a Book of the Writer’s NOW that my page upcloses, doomed, maybe, Never to press thy cosy cushions more, Or wake thy ready Yeas as heretofore, Or stir thy gentle vows of faith in me: Knowing thy natural receptivity, I figure that, as flambeaux banish eve, My sombre image, warped by insidious heave […]...
40. A Night-Rain in Summer Open the window, and let the air Freshly blow upon face and hair, And fill the room, as it fills the night, With the breath of the rain’s sweet might. Hark! the burthen, swift and prone! And how the odorous limes are blown! Stormy Love’s abroad, and keeps Hopeful coil for gentle sleeps. Not a […]...