A Rabbit As King Of The Ghosts by Wallace Stevens
The difficulty to think at the end of day, When the shapeless shadow covers the sun And nothing is left except light on your fur— There was the cat slopping its milk all day, Fat cat, red tongue, green mind, white milk And August the most peaceful month. To be, in the grass, in the […]
Final Soliloquy Of The Interior Paramour by Wallace Stevens
Light the first light of evening, as in a room In which we rest and, for small reason, think The world imagined is the ultimate good. This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous. It is in that thought that we collect ourselves, Out of all the indifferences, into one thing: Within a single thing, a single […]
Domination Of Black by Wallace Stevens
At night, by the fire, The colors of the bushes And of the fallen leaves, Repeating themselves, Turned in the room, Like the leaves themselves Turning in the wind. Yes: but the color of the heavy hemlocks Came striding. And I remembered the cry of the peacocks. The colors of their tails Were like the […]
Disillusionment Of Ten O’clock by Wallace Stevens
The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, Or yellow with blue rings. None of them are strange, With socks of lace And beaded ceintures. People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles. Only, here and there, an old sailor, Drunk […]
Anecdote Of The Jar by Wallace Stevens
I placed a jar in Tennessee, And round it was, upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness Surround that hill. The wilderness rose up to it, And sprawled around, no longer wild. The jar was round upon the ground And tall and of a port in air. It took dominion everywhere. The jar was […]
Not Ideas About The Thing But The Thing Itself by Wallace Stevens
At the earliest ending of winter, In March, a scrawny cry from outside Seemed like a sound in his mind. He knew that he heard it, A bird’s cry, at daylight or before, In the early March wind. The sun was rising at six, No longer a battered panache above snow… It would have been […]
Metaphors Of A Magnifico by Wallace Stevens
Twenty men crossing a bridge, Into a village, Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges, Into twenty villages, Or one man Crossing a single bridge into a village. This is old song That will not declare itself . . . Twenty men crossing a bridge, Into a village, Are Twenty men crossing a bridge Into a […]
Looking Across The Fields And Watching The Birds Fly by Wallace Stevens
Among the more irritating minor ideas Of Mr. Homburg during his visits home To Concord, at the edge of things, was this: To think away the grass, the trees, the clouds, Not to transform them into other things, Is only what the sun does every day, Until we say to ourselves that there may be […]
Life Is Motion by Wallace Stevens
In Oklahoma, Bonnie and Josie, Dressed in calico, Danced around a stump. They cried, “Ohoyaho, Ohoo” … Celebrating the marriage Of flesh and air. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry. Poetry Monster — the […]
Le Monocle de Mon Oncle by Wallace Stevens
“Mother of heaven, regina of the clouds, O sceptre of the sun, crown of the moon, There is not nothing, no, no, never nothing, Like the clashed edges of two words that kill.” And so I mocked her in magnificent measure. Or was it that I mocked myself alone? I wish that I might be […]
Infanta Marina by Wallace Stevens
Her terrace was the sand And the palms and the twilight. She made of the motions of her wrist The grandiose gestures Of her thought. The rumpling of the plumes Of this creature of the evening Came to be sleights of sails Over the sea. And thus she roamed In the roamings of her fan, […]
Hymn From A Watermelon Pavilion by Wallace Stevens
You dweller in the dark cabin, To whom the watermelon is always purple, Whose garden is wind and moon, Of the two dreams, night and day, What lover, what dreamer, would choose The one obscured by sleep? Here is the plantain by your door And the best cock of red feather That crew before the […]
Gubbinal by Wallace Stevens
That strange flower, the sun, Is just what you say. Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad. That tuft of jungle feathers, That animal eye, Is just what you say. That savage of fire, That seed, Have it your way. The world is ugly, And the people are sad. […]
Frogs Eat Butterflies, Snakes Eat Frogs, Hogs Eat Snakes, Men Eat Hogs by Wallace Stevens
It is true that the rivers went nosing like swine, Tugging at banks, until they seemed Bland belly-sounds in somnolent troughs, That the air was heavy with the breath of these swine, The breath of turgid summer, and Heavy with thunder’s rattapallax, That the man who erected this cabin, planted This field, and tended it […]
Farewell To Florida by Wallace Stevens
I Go on, high ship, since now, upon the shore, The snake has left its skin upon the floor. Key West sank downward under massive clouds And silvers and greens spread over the sea. The moon Is at the mast-head and the past is dead. Her mind will never speak to me again. I am […]
Fabliau Of Florida by Wallace Stevens
Barque of phosphor On the palmy beach, Move outward into heaven, Into the alabasters And night blues. Foam and cloud are one. Sultry moon-monsters Are dissolving. Fill your black hull With white moonlight. There will never be an end To this droning of the surf. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem […]
Earthy Anecdote by Wallace Stevens
Every time the bucks went clattering Over Oklahoma A firecat bristled in the way. Wherever they went, They went clattering, Until they swerved In a swift, circular line To the right, Because of the firecat. Or until they swerved In a swift, circular line To the left, Because of the firecat. The bucks clattered. The […]
A Dish Of Peaches In Russia by Wallace Stevens
With my whole body I taste these peaches, I touch them and smell them. Who speaks? I absorb them as the Angevine Absorbs Anjou. I see them as a lover sees, As a young lover sees the first buds of spring And as the black Spaniard plays his guitar. Who speaks? But it must be […]
Depression Before Spring by Wallace Stevens
The cock crows But no queen rises. The hair of my blonde Is dazzling, As the spittle of cows threading the wind. Ho! Ho! But ki-ki-ri-ki Brings no rou-cou, No rou-cou-cou. But no queen comes In slipper green. ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and […]
A Clear Day And No Memories by Wallace Stevens
No soldiers in the scenery, No thoughts of people now dead, As they were fifty years ago, Young and living in a live air, Young and walking in the sunshine, Bending in blue dresses to touch something, Today the mind is not part of the weather. Today the air is clear of everything. It has […]
In The Carolinas by Wallace Stevens
The lilacs wither in the Carolinas. Already the butterflies flutter above the cabins. Already the new-born children interpret love In the voices of mothers. Timeless mothers, How is it that your aspic nipples For once vent honey? The pine-tree sweetens my body The white iris beautifies me. ————— The End And that’s the End of […]
Another Weeping Woman by Wallace Stevens
Pour the unhappiness out From your too bitter heart, Which grieving will not sweeten. Poison grows in this dark. It is in the water of tears Its black blooms rise. The magnificent cause of being, The imagination, the one reality In this imagined world Leaves you With him for whom no phantasy moves, And you […]
Anecdote Of Canna by Wallace Stevens
Huge are the canna in the dreams of X, the mighty thought, the mighty man. They fill the terrace of his capitol. His thought sleeps not. Yet thought that wakes In sleep may never meet another thought Or thing… Now day-break comes… X promenades the dewy stones, Observes the canna with a clinging eye, Observes […]
You Felons on Trial in Courts. by Walt Whitman
YOU felons on trial in courts; You convicts in prison-cells—you sentenced assassins, chain’d and hand-cuff’d with iron; Who am I, too, that I am not on trial, or in prison? Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain’d with iron, or my ankles with iron? You prostitutes flaunting over the trottoirs, […]
Yet, Yet, Ye Downcast Hours. by Walt Whitman
1 YET, yet, ye downcast hours, I know ye also; Weights of lead, how ye clog and cling at my ankles! Earth to a chamber of mourning turns—I hear the o’erweening, mocking voice, Matter is conqueror—matter, triumphant only, continues onward. 2 Despairing cries float ceaselessly toward me, The call of my nearest lover, putting forth, […]
Years of the Modern. by Walt Whitman
YEARS of the modern! years of the unperform’d! Your horizon rises—I see it parting away for more august dramas; I see not America only—I see not only Liberty’s nation, but other nations preparing; I see tremendous entrances and exits—I see new combinations—I see the solidarity of races; I see that force advancing with irresistible power […]
Year that Trembled. by Walt Whitman
YEAR that trembled and reel’d beneath me! Your summer wind was warm enough—yet the air I breathed froze me; A thick gloom fell through the sunshine and darken’d me; Must I change my triumphant songs? said I to myself; Must I indeed learn to chant the cold dirges of the baffled? And sullen hymns of […]
Year of Meteors, 1859 ’60. by Walt Whitman
YEAR of meteors! brooding year! I would bind in words retrospective, some of your deeds and signs; I would sing your contest for the 19th Presidentiad; I would sing how an old man, tall, with white hair, mounted the scaffold in Virginia; (I was at hand—silent I stood, with teeth shut close—I watch’d; I stood […]
World, Take Good Notice. by Walt Whitman
WORLD, take good notice, silver stars fading, Milky hue ript, weft of white detaching, Coals thirty-eight, baleful and burning, Scarlet, significant, hands off warning, Now and henceforth flaunt from these shores. 5 ————— The End And that’s the End of the Poem © Poetry Monster, 2021. Poems by topic and subject. Poetry Monster — the ultimate […]
World Below the Brine, The. by Walt Whitman
THE world below the brine; Forests at the bottom of the sea—the branches and leaves, Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds—the thick tangle, the openings, and the pink turf, Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and gold—the play of light through the water, Dumb swimmers there among the rocks—coral, gluten, grass, rushes—and […]
With Antecedents. by Walt Whitman
1 WITH antecedents; With my fathers and mothers, and the accumulations of past ages; With all which, had it not been, I would not now be here, as I am: With Egypt, India, Phenicia, Greece and Rome; With the Kelt, the Scandinavian, the Alb, and the Saxon; With antique maritime ventures,—with laws, artizanship, wars and […]
With All Thy Gifts. by Walt Whitman
WITH all thy gifts, America, (Standing secure, rapidly tending, overlooking the world,) Power, wealth, extent, vouchsafed to thee—With these, and like of these, vouchsafed to thee, What if one gift thou lackest? (the ultimate human problem never solving;) The gift of Perfect Women fit for thee—What of that gift of gifts thou lackest? The towering […]
Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand. by Walt Whitman
WHOEVER you are, holding me now in hand, Without one thing, all will be useless, I give you fair warning, before you attempt me further, I am not what you supposed, but far different. Who is he that would become my follower? Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections? The way is suspicious—the […]
Who Learns My Lesson Complete? by Walt Whitman
WHO learns my lesson complete? Boss, journeyman, apprentice—churchman and atheist, The stupid and the wise thinker—parents and offspring—merchant, clerk, porter and customer, Editor, author, artist, and schoolboy—Draw nigh and commence; It is no lesson—it lets down the bars to a good lesson, And that to another, and every one to another still. The great laws […]
Who is now Reading This? by Walt Whitman
WHO is now reading this? May-be one is now reading this who knows some wrong-doing of my past life, Or may-be a stranger is reading this who has secretly loved me, Or may-be one who meets all my grand assumptions and egotisms with derision, Or may-be one who is puzzled at me. As if I […]
Whispers of Heavenly Death. by Walt Whitman
WHISPERS of heavenly death, murmur’d I hear; Labial gossip of night—sibilant chorals; Footsteps gently ascending—mystical breezes, wafted soft and low; Ripples of unseen rivers—tides of a current, flowing, forever flowing; (Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?) I see, just see, skyward, great cloud-masses; Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently […]
When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d. by Walt Whitman
1 WHEN lilacs last in the door-yard bloom’d, And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night, I mourn’d—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring. O ever-returning spring! trinity sure to me you bring; Lilac blooming perennial, and drooping star in the west, And thought of him I love. 2 O […]
When I read the Book. by Walt Whitman
WHEN I read the book, the biography famous, And is this, then, (said I,) what the author calls a man’s life? And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life? (As if any man really knew aught of my life; Why, even I myself, I often think, know little or […]
When I peruse the Conquer’d Fame. by Walt Whitman
WHEN I peruse the conquer’d fame of heroes, and the victories of mighty generals, I do not envy the generals, Nor the President in his Presidency, nor the rich in his great house; But when I hear of the brotherhood of lovers, how it was with them, How through life, through dangers, odium, unchanging, long […]
When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer. by Walt Whitman
WHEN I heard the learn’d astronomer; When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them; When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; […]