Death poems
/ page 478 of 560 /
Studio Composition
© Joseph Mayo Wristen
Cup of WordsCrystal sphere sitting
Before child like statue
Words of Lennon mixed
In a clay Klee fish bowl
An Epithet for the Dead Poet
© Joseph Mayo Wristen
I dance to his testimonial
in the heat of the night.
I dance to his living death.
Voices in the Night
© Joseph Mayo Wristen
I am the Raven
con of the world
spirit of blood and mire;
signal to the death,
the awakening before the coming.
The Mirror
© Robert Creeley
Seeing is believing.
Whatever was thought or said,these persistent, inexorable deaths
make faith as such absent,our humanness a question,
a disgust for what we are.Whatever the hope,
The Book of Urizen: Chapter III
© William Blake
1. The voice ended, they saw his pale visage
Emerge from the darkness; his hand
On the rock of eternity unclasping
The Book of brass. Rage siez'd the strong
Preludium to Europe
© William Blake
The nameless shadowy female rose from out the breast of Orc,
Her snaky hair brandishing in the winds of Enitharmon;
And thus her voice arose:
The Book of Urizen: Chapter II
© William Blake
1. Earth was not: nor globes of attraction
The will of the Immortal expanded
Or contracted his all flexible senses.
Death was not, but eternal life sprung
The Book of Urizen: Chapter V
© William Blake
2. All the myriads of Eternity:
All the wisdom & joy of life:
Roll like a sea around him,
Except what his little orbs
Of sight by degrees unfold.
The Book of Urizen: Chapter VII
© William Blake
3. These falling down on the rock
Into an iron Chain
In each other link by link lock'd
The Book of Urizen: Chapter VIII
© William Blake
1. Urizen explor'd his dens
Mountain, moor, & wilderness,
With a globe of fire lighting his journey
A fearful journey, annoy'd
By cruel enormities: forms
Of life on his forsaken mountains
Milton: But in the Wine-presses the Human Grapes Sing not nor Dance
© William Blake
They dance around the dying and they drink the howl and groan,
They catch the shrieks in cups of gold, they hand them to one another:
These are the sports of love, and these the sweet delights of amorous play,
Tears of the grape, the death sweat of the cluster, the last sigh
Of the mild youth who listens to the luring songs of Luvah.
Preludium to America
© William Blake
Silent as despairing love, and strong as jealousy,
The hairy shoulders rend the links; free are the wrists of fire;
Round the terrific loins he seiz'd the panting, struggling womb;
It joy'd: she put aside her clouds and smiled her first-born smile,
As when a black cloud shews its lightnings to the silent deep.
Gwin King of Norway
© William Blake
`The land is desolate; our wives
And children cry for bread;
Arise, and pull the tyrant down!
Let Gwin be humbl?d!'
The Book of Thel
© William Blake
1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
3 Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
4 Or Love in a golden bowl?
Fair Elanor
© William Blake
Chill Death withdraws his hand, and she revives;
Amaz'd, she finds herself upon her feet,
And, like a ghost, thro' narrow passages
Walking, feeling the cold walls with her hands.
England! awake! awake! awake!
© William Blake
England! awake! awake! awake!
Jerusalem thy Sister calls!
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
And close her from thy ancient walls?
Jerusalem: England! awake! awake! awake!
© William Blake
England! awake! awake! awake!
Jerusalem thy Sister calls!
Why wilt thou sleep the sleep of death
And close her from thy ancient walls?
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
© William Blake
Rintrah roars & shakes his fires in the burdend air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep
To Tirzah
© William Blake
Whate'er is Born of Mortal Birth,
Must be consumed with the Earth
To rise from Generation free:
Then what have I to do with thee?
