Love poems
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Like Some Wild Sleeper
© Mathilde Blind
Like some wild sleeper who alone at night
Walks with unseeing eyes along a height,
With death below and only stars above;
I, in broad daylight, walk as if in sleep,
Along the edges of life's perilous steep,
The lost somnambulist of love.
Sonnet 96
© John Berryman
An instant there is, Sophoclean, true,
When Oedipus must understand: his head
When Oedipus believestilts like a wave,
And will not break, only iov iov
Wells from his dreadful mouth, the love he led:
Prolong to Procyon this. This begins my grave.
Dream Song 28: Snow Line
© John Berryman
It was wet & white & swift and where I am
we don't know. It was dark and then
it isn't.
I wish the barker would come. There seems to be eat
nothing. I am usually tired.
I'm alone too.
Catharina
© William Cowper
She came--she is gone--we have met--
And meet perhaps never again;
The sun of that moment is set,
And seems to have risen in vain.
The Veil Of Maya
© Edith Nesbit
SWEET, I have loved before. I know
This longing that invades my days;
This shape that haunts life's busy ways
I know since long and long ago.
Moonrise Over Tyringham
© Edith Wharton
Now the high holocaust of hours is done,
And all the west empurpled with their death,
How swift oblivion drinks the fallen sun,
How little while the dusk remembereth!
Dream Song 100: How this woman came by the courage
© John Berryman
How this woman came by the courage, how she got
the courage, Henry bemused himself in a frantic hot
night of the eight of July,
where it came from, did once the Lord frown down
upon her ancient cradle thinking 'This one
will do before she die
The Day Of Dead Soldiers
© Emma Lazarus
WELCOME, thou gray and fragrant Sabbath-day,
To deathless love and valor dedicate!
Glorious with the richest flowers of May,
With early roses, lingering lilacs late,
Dream Song 11: His mother goes. The mother comes & goes.
© John Berryman
His mother goes. The mother comes & goes.
Chen Lung's too came, came and crampt & then
that dragoner's mother was gone.
It seem we don't have no good bed to lie on,
forever. While he drawing his first breath,
while skinning his knees,
Dream Song 324: An Elegy for W.C.W., the lovely man
© John Berryman
Henry in Ireland to Bill underground:
Rest well, who worked so hard, who made a good sound
constantly, for so many years:
your high-jinks delighted the continents & our ears:
you had so many girls your life was a triumph
and you loved your one wife.
Dream Song 71: Spellbound held subtle Henry all his four
© John Berryman
Spellbound held subtle Henry all his four
hearers in the racket of the market
with ancient signs, infamous characters,
new rythms. On the steps he was beloved,
hours a day, by all his four, or more,
depending. And they paid him.
Dream Song 39: Goodbye, sir, & fare well. You're in the clear
© John Berryman
Goodbye, sir, & fare well. You're in the clear.
'Nobody' (Mark says you said) 'is ever found out.'
I figure you were right,
having as Henry got away with murder
for long. Some jarred clock tell me it's late,
not for you who went straight
Roan Stallion
© Robinson Jeffers
She rose at length, she unknotted the halter; she walked and led
the stallion; two figures, woman and stallion,
Came down the silent emptiness of the dome of the hill, under
the cataract of the moonlight.
To The Autumn Wind
© Alfred Austin
O envious Autumn wind, to blow
From covert vale and woodland crest
Dream Song 3: A Stimulant for an Old Beast
© John Berryman
All these old criminals sooner or later
have had it. I've been reading old journals.
Gottwald & Co., out of business now.
Thick chests quit. Double agent, Joe.
She holds her breath like a seal
and is whiter & smoother.
Stanzas To Jessy
© George Gordon Byron
There is a mystic thread of life
So dearly wreath'd with mine alone,
That Destiny's relentless knife
At once must sever both, or none.
Dream Song 36: The high ones die, die. They die
© John Berryman
The high ones die, die. They die. You look up and who's there?
âEasy, easy, Mr Bones. I is on your side.
I smell your grief.
âI sent my grief away. I cannot care
forever. With them all align & again I died
and cried, and I have to live.
Dream Song 104: Welcome, grinned Henry, welcome, fifty-one!
© John Berryman
Welcome, grinned Henry, welcome, fifty-one!
I never cared for fifty, when nothing got done.
The hospitals were fun
in certain ways, and an honour or so,
but on the whole fifty was a mess as though
heavy clubs from below
The Call Of The Christian
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Not always as the whirlwind's rush
On Horeb's mount of fear,
Dream Song 128: A hemorrhage of his left ear of Good Friday
© John Berryman
A hemorrhage of his left ear of Good Fridayâ
so help me Jesusâthen made funny too
the other, further one.
There must have been a bit. Sheets scrubbed away
soon all but three nails. Doctors in this city O
will not (his wife cried) come.
