Poems begining by D
/ page 63 of 94 /
Dream Song 81: Op. posth. no. 4
© John Berryman
He loom' so cagey he say 'Leema beans'
and measured his intake to the atmosphere
of that fairly stable country.
His ear hurt. Left. The rock-cliffs, a mite sheer
at his age, in these places.
Scrubbing out his fear,â
Dream Song 126: A Thurn
© John Berryman
Not of these least is borne to rest.
If grandeur & mettle prompted his lone journey
neither oh crowded shelved
nor this slab I celebrates attest
his complex slow fame forever (more or less).
I imagine the Abbey
Dream Song 57: In a state of chortle sin--once he reflected
© John Berryman
In a state of chortle sinâonce he reflected,
swilling tomato juiceâlive I, and did
more than my thirstier years.
To Hell then will it maul me? for good talk,
and gripe of retail loss? I dare say not.
I don't thÃnk there's that place
Dream Song 92: Room 231: the fourth week
© John Berryman
Tulips from Tates teazed Henry in the mood
to be a tulip and desire no more
but water, but light, but air.
Yet his nerves rattled blackly, unsubdued,
& suffocation called, dream-whiskey'd pour
sirening. Rosy there
Dream Song 91: Op. posth. no. 14
© John Berryman
Noises from underground made gibber some
others collected & dug henry up
saying 'You are a sight.'
Chilly, he muttered for a double rum
waving the mikes away, putting a stop
to rumors, pushing his fright
Dream Song 115: Her properties, like her of course & frisky & new
© John Berryman
Her properties, like her of course & frisky & new:
a stale cake sold to kids, a 7-foot weed
inside in the Great Neck night,
a record ('great'), her work all over as u-
sual rejected. She odd in a bakery.
The owner stand beside her
Dream Song 85: Op. posth. no. 8
© John Berryman
Flak. An eventful thought came to me,
who squirm in my hole. How will the matter end?
Who's king these nights?
What happened to . . . day? Are ships abroad?
I would like to but may not entertain a friend.
Save me from ghastly frights,
Dreams In Rome
© Arthur Symons
What is it that sings a sleepy tune in my head?
Some faint old forgotten moon that is dead?
I will arise, for the dreams are about my bed.
Dream Song 97: Henry of Donnybrook bred like a pig
© John Berryman
Henry of Donnybrook bred like a pig,
bred when he was brittle, bred when big,
how he's sweating to support them.
Which birthday of the brighter darker man,
the Goya of the Globe & Blackfriars, whomâ
our full earth smiled on him
Dream Song 33: An apple arc'd toward Kleitos; whose great King
© John Berryman
An apple arc'd toward Kleitos; whose great King
wroth & of wine did study where his sword,
sneaked away, might be . . .
with swollen lids staggered up and clung
dim to the cloth of gold. An un-Greek word
blister, to him guard,
Dream Song 129: Thin as a sheet his mother came to him
© John Berryman
Thin as a sheet his mother came to him
during the screaming evenings after he did it,
touched F.J.'s dead hand.
The parlour was dark, he was the first pall-bearer in,
he gave himself a dare & then did it,
the thing was quite unplanned,
Dream Song 123: Daples my floor the eastern sun, my house faces north
© John Berryman
Dapples my floor the eastern sun, my house faces north,
I have nothing to say except that it dapples my floor
and it would dapple me
if I lay on that floor, as-well-forthwith
I have done, trying well to mount a thought
not carelessly
Dream Song 116: Through the forest, followed, Henry made his silky way
© John Berryman
Through the forest, followed, Henry made his silky way,
No chickadee was troubled, small moss smiled
on his swift passage.
But there were those ahead when at midday
they met in a clearing and lookt at each other awhile.
To kill was not the message.
Dream Song 108: Sixteen below. Our care like stranded hulls
© John Berryman
Sixteen below. Our care like stranded hulls
litter all day our little Avenues.
It was 28 below.
No one goes anywhere. Fabulous calls
to duty clank. Icy dungeons, though,
have much to mention to you.
Dream Song 95: The surly cop looked out at me in sleep
© John Berryman
The surly cop looked out at me in sleep
insect-like. Guess, who was the insect.
I'd asked him in my robe
& hospital gown in the elevator politely
why someone saw so many police around,
and without speaking he looked.
Dream Song 118: He wondered: Do I love? all this applause
© John Berryman
He wondered: Do I love? all this applause,
young beauties sitting at my feet & all,
and all.
It tires me out, he pondered: I'm tempted to break laws
and love myself, or the stupid questions asked me
move me to homicideâ
Dream Song 17: Muttered Henry:âLord of matter, thus
© John Berryman
Muttered Henry:âLord of matter, thus:
upon some more unquiet spirit knock,
my madnesses have cease.
All the quarter astonishes a lonely out & back.
They set their clocks by Henry House,
the steadiest man on the block.
Dream Song 68: I heard, could be, a Hey there from the wing
© John Berryman
I heard, could be, a Hey there from the wing,
and I went on: Miss Bessie soundin good
that one, that night of all,
I feelin fari myself, taxes & things
seem to be back in line, like everybody should
and nobody in the snow on call
Dream Song 80: Op. posth. no. 3
© John Berryman
It's buried at a distance, on my insistence, buried.
Weather's severe there, which it will not mind.
I miss it.
O happies before & during & between the times it got married.
I hate the love of leaving it behind,
deteriorating & hopeless that.
Dream Song 59: Henry's Meditation in the Kremlin
© John Berryman
Down on the cathedrals, as from the Giralda
in a land no crueller, and over the walls
to domes & river look
from Great John's belfry, Ivan-Veliky,
whose thirty-one are still
to hail who storms no father's throne. Bell, book
