Time poems
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Fame is a fickle food
© Emily Dickinson
Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
The second time is set.
Drowning is not so pitiful
© Emily Dickinson
Drowning is not so pitiful
As the attempt to rise
Three times, 'tis said, a sinking man
Comes up to face the skies,
'Twas just this time, last year, I died.
© Emily Dickinson
'Twas just this time, last year, I died.
I know I heard the Corn,
When I was carried by the Farms --
It had the Tassels on --
Pain -- has an Element of Blank --
© Emily Dickinson
Pain -- has an Element of Blank --
It cannot recollect
When it begun -- or if there were
A time when it was not --
Bring me the sunset in a cup,
© Emily Dickinson
Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up
And say how many Dew,
Tell me how far the morning leaps --
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!
I dreaded that first Robin, so,
© Emily Dickinson
I dreaded that first Robin, so,
But He is mastered, now,
I'm accustomed to Him grown,
He hurts a little, though --
I'll tell you how the Sun rose
© Emily Dickinson
I'll tell you how the Sun rose --
A Ribbon at a time --
The Steeples swam in Amethyst --
The news, like Squirrels, ran --
My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun --
© Emily Dickinson
My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun --
In Corners -- till a Day
The Owner passed -- identified --
And carried Me away --
There is a word
© Emily Dickinson
There is a word
Which bears a sword
Can pierce an armed man --
It hurls its barbed syllables
If I should die,
© Emily Dickinson
If I should die,
And you should live --
And time should gurgle on --
And morn should beam --
Awake ye muses nine
© Emily Dickinson
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
The house where I was born (04)
© Yves Bonnefoy
And voices that cast shadows on the road,
Or called to me, and, my heart beating fast,
I turned around to face the empty road.
The house where I was born (06)
© Yves Bonnefoy
I woke up, but I was travelling,
The train had rolled throughout the night,
It was now going toward huge clouds
That were standing, packed together, down there,
The house where I was born (07)
© Yves Bonnefoy
I have crossed out
These words a hundred times, in verse, in prose,
But I cannot
Stop them from coming back.)
At The Door
© David Wagoner
All actors look for them-the defining moments
When what a character does is what he is.
The script may say, He goes to the door
And exits or She goes out the door stage left.
To Jennie
© Mark Twain
Good-bye! a kind good-bye,
I bid you now, my friend,
And though 'tis sad to speak the word,
To destiny I bend
Genius
© Mark Twain
Geniuses are people who dash of weird, wild,
incomprehensible poems with astonishing facility,
and get booming drunk and sleep in the gutter.
The Widening Spell Of Leaves
© Larry Levis
--The Carpathian Frontier, October, 1968
--for my brotherOnce, in a foreign country, I was suddenly ill.
I was driving south toward a large city famous
For so little it had a replica, in concrete,
The Pick
© Cecilia Woloch
I watched him swinging the pick in the sun,
breaking the concrete steps into chunks of rock,
and the rocks into dust,
and the dust into earth again.
When I Suspected
© Spike Milligan
There will be a time when it will end.
Be it parting
Be it death
So each passing minute with you
