Men poems
/ page 130 of 131 /
A throe upon the features
© Emily Dickinson
A throe upon the features --
A hurry in the breath --
An ecstasy of parting
Denominated "Death" --
"Was not" was all the Statement.
© Emily Dickinson
"Was not" was all the Statement.
The Unpretension stuns --
Perhaps -- the Comprehension --
They wore no Lexicons --
Two butterflies went out at Noon --
© Emily Dickinson
Two butterflies went out at Noon --
And waltzed upon a Farm --
Then stepped straight through the Firmament
And rested, on a Beam --
To mend each tattered Faith
© Emily Dickinson
To mend each tattered Faith
There is a needle fair
Though no appearance indicate --
'Tis threaded in the Air --
This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life
© Emily Dickinson
This Chasm, Sweet, upon my life
I mention it to you,
When Sunrise through a fissure drop
The Day must follow too.
The Wind begun to rock the Grass
© Emily Dickinson
The Wind begun to rock the Grass
With threatening Tunes and low --
He threw a Menace at the Earth --
A Menace at the Sky.
The last Night that She lived
© Emily Dickinson
The last Night that She lived
It was a Common Night
Except the Dying -- this to Us
Made Nature different
The healed Heart shows its shallow scar
© Emily Dickinson
The healed Heart shows its shallow scar
With confidential moan --
Not mended by Mortality
Are Fabrics truly torn --
My Heart ran so to thee
© Emily Dickinson
My Heart ran so to thee
It would not wait for me
And I affronted grew
And drew away
Gratitude -- is not the mention
© Emily Dickinson
Gratitude -- is not the mention
Of a Tenderness,
But its still appreciation
Out of Plumb of Speech.
Dew -- is the Freshet in the Grass --
© Emily Dickinson
Dew -- is the Freshet in the Grass --
'Tis many a tiny Mill
Turns unperceived beneath our feet
And Artisan lies still --
Five Ways To Kill A Man
© Edwin Brock
Dispensing with nobility, you may, if the wind
allows, blow gas at him. But then you need
a mile of mud sliced through with ditches,
not to mention black boots, bomb craters,
more mud, a plague of rats, a dozen songs
and some round hats made of steel.
Caesarion
© Constantine Cavafy
When I had managed to verify the era
I would have put the book away, had not a small
and insignificant mention of king Caesarion
immediately attracted my attention.....
On An Italian Shore
© Constantine Cavafy
Kimos, son of Menedoros, a young Greek-Italian,
devotes his life to amusing himself,
like most young men in Greater Greece
brought up in the lap of luxury.
Hugh Selwyn Mauberly (Part I)
© Ezra Pound
For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start --
E.P. Ode Pour L'election De Son Sepulchre
© Ezra Pound
For three years, out of key with his time,
He strove to resuscitate the dead art
Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
In the old sense. Wrong from the start--
Agoraphobia
© John Burnside
My whole world is all you refuse:
a black light, angelic and cold
on the path to the orchard,
fox-runs and clouded lanes and the glitter of webbing,
Avon's Harvest
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
Mightnt it be as well, my friend, I said,
For you to contemplate the uncompleted
With not such an infernal certainty?
Recalled
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
I mentioned them, and Isaac shook his head:
The Power that you call yours and I call mine
Extinguished in the last of them a line
That Satan would have disinherited.
When we are done with all but the Divine,
We die. And there was no more to be said.
Flammonde
© Edwin Arlington Robinson
The man Flammonde, from God knows where,
With firm address and foreign air
With news of nations in his talk
And something royal in his walk,
