All Poems
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To The Poet On The Subject Of Flowers
© Arthur Rimbaud
Thus continually towards the dark azure,
Where the sea of topazes shimmers,
Will function in your evening
The Lilies, those pessaries of ectasy!
Dream Song 103: I consider a song will be as humming-bird
© John Berryman
I consider a song will be as humming-bird
swift, down-light, missile-metal-hard, & strange
as the world of anti-matter
where they are wondering: does time run backwardâ
which the poet thought was true; Scarlatti-supple;
but can Henry write it?
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 54.
© Alfred Tennyson
Behold, we know not anything;
I can but trust that good shall fall
At last-far off-at last, to all,
And every winter change to spring.
Dream Song 73: Karensui, Ryoan-ji
© John Berryman
The taxi makes the vegetables fly.
'Dozo kudasai,' I have him wait.
Past the bright lake up into the temple,
shoes off, and
my right leg swings me left.
I do survive beside the garden I
Los Tres Reyes Magos (With English Translation)
© Rubén Dario
-O soy Gaspar. Aquí traigo el incienso.
Vengo a decir: La vida es pura y bella.
Existe Dios. El amor es inmenso.
Todo lo sé por la divina Estrella!
Dream Song 50: In a motion of night they massed nearer my post
© John Berryman
In a motion of night they massed nearer my post.
I hummed a short blues. When the stars went out
I studied my weapons system.
Grenades, the portable rack, the yellow spout
of the anthrax-ray: in order. Yes, and most
of my pencils were sharp.
Dream Song 93: General Fatigue stalked in, & a Major-General
© John Berryman
General Fatigue stalked in, & a Major-General,
Captain Fatigue, and at the base of all
pale Corporal Fatigue,
and curious microbes came, came viruses:
and the Court conferred on Henry, and conferred on Henry
the rare Order of Weak.
Dream Song 31: Henry Hankovitch, con guÃtar
© John Berryman
Henry Hankovitch, con guÃtar,
did a short Zen pray,
on his tatami in a relaxed lotos
fixin his mind on nuffin, rose-blue breasts,
and gave his parnel one French kiss;
enslaving himself he withdrew from his blue
Love In Autumn
© Sara Teasdale
I sought among the drifting leaves,
The golden leaves that once were green,
To see if Love were hiding there
And peeping out between.
Dream Song 64: Supreme my holdings, greater yet my need
© John Berryman
Supreme my holdings, greater yet my need,
thoughtless I go out. Dawn. Have I my cig's,
my flaskie O,
O crystal cock,âmy kneel has gone to seed,â
and anybody's blessing? (Blast the MIGs
for making funble so
Sonnet To John Hamilton Reynolds
© John Keats
O that a week could be an age, and we
Felt parting and warm meeting every week,
Then one poor year a thousand years would be,
The flush of welcome ever on the cheek:
Dream Song 42: O journeyer, deaf in the mould, insane
© John Berryman
O journeyer, deaf in the mould, insane
with violent travel & death: consider me
in my cast, your first son.
Would you were I by now another one,
witted, legged? I see you before me plain
(I am skilled: I hear, I see)â
Voices Of The Night : Flowers
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the Castle Rhine,
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden
Stars, that in the earth's firmament do shine.
Dream Song 90: Op. posth. no. 13
© John Berryman
In the night-reaches dreamed he of better graces,
of liberations, and beloved faces,
such as now ere dawn he sings.
It would not be easy, accustomed to these things,
to give up the old world, but he could try;
let it all rest, have a good cry.
Madrigal 1
© William Henry Drummond
This life which seems so fair
Is like a bubble blown up in the air
Dream Song 88: Op. posth. no. 11
© John Berryman
In slack times visit I the violent dead
and pick their awful brains. Most seem to feel
nothing is secret more
to my disdain I find, when we who fled
cherish the knowings of both worlds, conceal
more, beat on the floor,
The Bridge Builder
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
OF old the Winds came romping down,
Oh, wild and free were they!
They bent the prairie grasses low
And made a place to play.
Dream Song 65: A freaking ankle crabbed his blissful trips
© John Berryman
A freaking ankle crabbed his blissful trips,
this whiskey tastes like California
but is Kentucky,
like Berkeley where he truly worked at it
but nothing broke all nightâno firesâone dawn,
crowding his luck,
Writ On The Eve Of My 32nd Birthday
© Gregory Corso
I am 32 years old
and finally I look my age, if not more.
Dream Song 110: It was the blue & plain ones. I forget all that
© John Berryman
It was the blue & plain ones. I forget all that.
My own clouds darkening hung.
Besides, it wasn't serious.
They took them in different rooms & fed them lies.
'She admitted you wanted to get rid of it.'
'He told us he told you to.'
