Time poems

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Parsley

© Rita Dove

There is a parrot imitating spring
in the palace, its feathers parsley green.
Out of the swamp the cane appears

There sat down, once, a thing on Henry’s heart
só heavy, if he had a hundred years
& more, & weeping, sleepless, in all them time
Henry could not make good.
Starts again always in Henry’s ears
the little cough somewhere, an odour, a chime.

How She Bowed to her Brother

© Gertrude Stein

The story of how she bowed to her brother.

Who has whom as his.

from Don Juan: Canto 1, Stanzas 60-63

© Lord Byron

Like a Sentence

© John Ashbery

It was prettily said that “No man
hath an abundance of cows on the plain, nor shards
in his cupboard.” Wait! I think I know who said that! It was . . .

The Cloud Confines

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The day is dark and the night

To him that would search their heart;

A Reply

© Wang Wei

I have a place on the Chungnan slopes.
Sitting there you can see the Mountains.
No one there, no guests, the gate is closed.
No plans all day, just time and silence.
Nothing stops you gazing and dreaming.
Why not come and try to find me there?

Moonshine

© Yusef Komunyakaa

Drunken laughter escapes

Behind the fence woven

Persimmons

© Li-Young Lee

In sixth grade Mrs. Walker
slapped the back of my head
and made me stand in the corner
for not knowing the difference
between persimmon and precision.
How to choose

The Lady Of La Garaye - Prologue

© Caroline Norton

This was the Chapel: that the stair:
Here, where all lies damp and bare,
The fragrant thurible was swung,
The silver lamp in beauty hung,
And in that mass of ivied shade
The pale nuns sang--the abbot prayed.

His Farewell to Sack

© Robert Herrick

Farewell thou thing, time past so known, so dear

To me as blood to life and spirit; near,

Bolero

© Gerald Stern

So one day when the azalea bush was firing

away and the Japanese maple was roaring I

Fox Sleep

© William Stanley Merwin

On a road through the mountains with a friend many years ago

I came to a curve on a slope where a clear stream

How To Be a Poet

(to remind myself)

i

The Song of Wandering Aengus

I went out to the hazel wood,

Because a fire was in my head,

A Birthday Greeting: To My Little Nephew

I know a happy little boy,
They call him Charlie Gray,
Whose face is bright, because you know,
He's six years old to-day.

Streamers

© Wole Soyinka

1 As an archaeologist unearths a mask with opercular teeth
and abalone eyes, someone throws a broken fan and extension
cords
into a dumpster. A point of coincidence exists in the mind

Hannah

Then Seek ye Subject & its song be mine
Whose numbers next in Sacred story shine;
Go brightly-working thought, prepard to fly
Above ye page on hov'ring pinnions ly,
& beat with stronger force to make thee rise
Where beautious Hannah meets ye searching eyes.