Graydigger's Home

Related poetry:

1. About My Poetry I have no silver-saddled horse to ride, No inheritance to live on, Neither riches no real-estate A pot of honey is all I own. A pot of honey red as fire! My honey is my everything. I guard My riches and my real-estate my honey pot, I mean From pests of every species, Brother, just […]...
2. Safe-home don’t be so lazy maisie maisie Don’t be so lazy please I know it’s snowing And a hard wind’s blowing But nobody knows At the rate we’re going What time we’ll get home tonight Keep to the path for me timothy timothy Keep to the path for me please My legs are aching And my […]...
3. Who Goes Home? In the city set upon slime and loam They cry in their parliament ‘Who goes home?’ And there comes no answer in arch or dome, For none in the city of graves goes home. Yet these shall perish and understand, For God has pity on this great land. Men that are men again; who goes […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. Home And Love Just Home and Love! the words are small Four little letters unto each; And yet you will not find in all The wide and gracious range of speech Two more so tenderly complete: When angels talk in Heaven above, I’m sure they have no words more sweet Than Home and Love. Just Home and Love! […]...
6. A Home Song I read within a poet’s book A word that starred the page: “Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage!” Yes, that is true; and something more You’ll find, where’er you roam, That marble floors and gilded walls Can never make a home. But every house where Love abides, And Friendship […]...
7. Dream Song 102: The sunburnt terraces which swans make home The sunburnt terraces which swans make home With water purling, Macchu Pichu died Like Delphi long ago— A message to Justinian closing it out, The thousand years’ authority, although Tho’ never found exactly wrong Political patterns did indeed emerge; The Oracle was conservative, like Lippmann, Roared the winds on the height, The Shining Ones behind […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. I learned at least what Home could be I learned at least what Home could be How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant How awkward at the Hymn Round our new Fireside but for this This pattern of the Way Whose Memory drowns me, like the Dip Of a Celestial Sea What Mornings in our Garden guessed What Bees for […]...
10. Letter Home New Orleans, November 1910 Four weeks have passed since I left, and still I must write to you of no work. I’ve worn down The soles and walked through the tightness Of my new shoes calling upon the merchants, Their offices bustling. All the while I kept thinking My plain English and good writing would […]...
11. The Home-Coming My boy’s come back; he’s here at last; He came home on a special train. My longing and my ache are past, My only son is back again. He’s home with music, flags and flowers; With peace and joy my heart’s abrim; He got here in the morning hours With half the town to welcome […]...
12. I never felt at Home Below I never felt at Home Below And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home I know I don’t like Paradise Because it’s Sunday all the time And Recess never comes And Eden’ll be so lonesome Bright Wednesday Afternoons If God could make a visit Or ever took a Nap So not to […]...
13. My Home This is the place that I love the best, A little brown house, like a ground-bird’s nest, Hid among grasses, and vines, and trees, Summer retreat of the birds and bees. The tenderest light that ever was seen Sifts through the vine-made window screen Sifts and quivers, and flits and falls On home-made carpets and […]...
14. Lines Written From Home Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strown, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan; There is a friendly roof, I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast; There is a fire, whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past. And […]...
15. Come Home! When wintry winds are no more heard, And joy’s in every bosom, When summer sings in every bird, And shines in every blossom, When happy twilight hours are long, Come home, my love, and think no wrong! When berries gleam above the stream And half the fields are yellow, Come back to me, my joyous […]...
16. O Daedalus, Fly Away Home (For Maia and Julie) Drifting night in the Georgia pines, Coonskin drum and jubilee banjo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is juba, night is congo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is an African juju man Weaving a wish and a weariness together To make two wings. O fly away home fly away Do […]...
17. Down Home Down home to-night the moonshine falls Across a hill with daisies pied, The pear tree by the garden gate Beckons with white arms like a bride. A savor as of trampled fern Along the whispering meadow stirs, And, beacon of immortal love, A light is shining through the firs. To my old gable window creeps […]...
18. Now Returned Home Beyond the narrows of the Inner Hebrides We sailed the cold angry sea toward Barra, where Heaval mountain Lifts like a mast. There were few people on the steamer, it was late in the year; I noticed most an old shepherd, Two wise-eyed dogs wove anxious circles around his feet, and a thin-armed girl Who […]...
19. Home How brightly glistening in the sun The woodland ivy plays! While yonder beeches from their barks Reflect his silver rays. That sun surveys a lovely scene From softly smiling skies; And wildly through unnumbered trees The wind of winter sighs: Now loud, it thunders o’er my head, And now in distance dies. But give me […]...
20. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
21. Ace Shaw I never saw any difference Between playing cards for money And selling real estate, Practicing law, banking, or anything else. For everything is chance. Nevertheless Seest thou a man diligent in business? He shall stand before Kings!...
22. The Hangman at Home WHAT does the hangman think about When he goes home at night from work? When he sits down with his wife and Children for a cup of coffee and a Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask Him if it was a good day’s work And everything went well or do they Stay off […]...
23. Gilhooley's Estate Oh, Mr Gilhooley he turned up his toes, As most of you know, soon or late; And Jones was a lawyer, as everyone knows, So they took him to Gilhooley’s Estate. Gilhooley in life had been living so free ‘Twas thought his possessions were great, So Jones, with a smile, says, “There’s many a fee […]...
24. When the Children Come Home On a lonely selection far out in the West An old woman works all the day without rest, And she croons, as she toils ‘neath the sky’s glassy dome, ‘Sure I’ll keep the ould place till the childer come home.’ She mends all the fences, she grubs, and she ploughs, She drives the old horse […]...
25. Away from Home are some and I Away from Home are some and I An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly The Habit of a Foreign Sky We difficult acquire As Children, who remain in Face The more their Feet retire....
26. Sweet Stay-at-Home Sweet Stay-at-Home, sweet Well-content, Thou knowest of no strange continent; Thou hast not felt thy bosom keep A gentle motion with the deep; Thou hast not sailed in Indian seas, Where scent comes forth in every breeze. Thou hast not seen the rich grape grow For miles, as far as eyes can go: Thou hast […]...
27. I Come Home Wanting To Touch Everyone The dogs greet me, I descend Into their world of fur and tongues And then my wife and I embrace As if we’d just closed the door In a motel, our two girls slip in Between us and we’re all saying Each other’s names and the dogs Buster and Sundown are on their hind legs, […]...
28. To Friends At Home TO friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost The gracious old, the lovely young, to May The fair, December the beloved, These from my blue horizon and green isles, These from this pinnacle of distances I, The unforgetful, dedicate....
29. Home Is So Sad Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, Shaped in the comfort of the last to go As if to win them back. Instead, bereft Of anyone to please, it withers so, Having no heart to put aside the theft. And turn again to what it started as, A joyous shot at how […]...
30. The Owners Of The Little Box Line the inside of the little box With your precious skin And make yourself cozy Just as you would in your own home Make space voyages inside her Gather stars make time squirt its milk And sleep in the clouds Just don’t go around pretending You’re more important than her length And wiser than her […]...
31. Going Home He came home. Said nothing. It was clear, though, that something had gone wrong. He lay down fully dressed. Pulled the blanket over his head. Tucked up his knees. He’s nearly forty, but not at the moment. He exists just as he did inside his mother’s womb, Clad in seven walls of skin, in sheltered […]...
32. To her derided Home To her derided Home A Weed of Summer came She did not know her station low Nor Ignominy’s Name Bestowed a summer long Upon a frameless flower Then swept as lightly from disdain As Lady from her Bower Of Bliss the Codes are few As Jesus cites of Him “Come unto me” the moiety That […]...
33. Oh Stay At Home, My Lad Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough The land and not the sea, And leave the soldiers at their drill, And all about the idle hill Shepherd your sheep with me. Oh stay with company and mirth And daylight and the air; Too full already is the grave Of fellows that were good and […]...
34. The Price of Peace Peace without Justice is a low estate, A coward cringing to an iron Fate! But Peace through Justice is the great ideal, We’ll pay the price of war to make it real....
35. Bound Home to Mount Song The limpid river, past its bushes Running slowly as my chariot, Becomes a fellow voyager Returning home with the evening birds. A ruined city-wall overtops an old ferry, Autumn sunset floods the peaks. …Far away, beside Mount Song, I shall close my door and be at peace....
36. Where Thou art that is Home Where Thou art that is Home Cashmere or Calvary the same Degree or Shame I scarce esteem Location’s Name So I may Come What Thou dost is Delight Bondage as Play be sweet Imprisonment Content And Sentence Sacrament Just We two meet Where Thou art not is Woe Tho’ Bands of Spices row What Thou […]...
37. Home Fires IN a Yiddish eating place on Rivington Street… faces… coffee spots… children kicking at the night stars with bare toes from bare buttocks. They know it is September on Rivington when the red tomaytoes cram the pushcarts, Here the children snozzle at milk bottles, children who have never seen a cow. Here the stranger wonders […]...
38. Looking, Walking, Being “The World is not something to Look at, it is something to be in.” Mark Rudman I look and look. Looking’s a way of being: one becomes, Sometimes, a pair of eyes walking. Walking wherever looking takes one. The eyes Dig and burrow into the world. They touch Fanfare, howl, madrigal, clamor. World and the […]...
39. A Day At Union Station Departure At last, I’m leaving the familiar roof! I’m undeterred by rain and wind. This presentation should be quite a feather In my cap. Eager, I clutch my ticket. I’m going places. Not letting any grass Grow, not under these clever feet! Pigeons We admire one another’s tiny coral feet. Coooooo, coooooo under the roof. […]...
40. I Don't Feel At Home Where I Am I don’t feel at home where I am, Or where I spend time; only where, Beyond counting, there’s freedom and calm, That is, waves, that is, space where, when there, You consist of pure freedom, which, seen, Turns that Gorgon, the crowd, to stone, To pebbles and sand. . . where life’s mean- Ing lies […]...