Poems about done (51 Poems)
A Man (Charles Bukowski Poem)
George was lying in his trailer, flat on his back, watching a small portable T.V. His dinner dishes were undone, his breakfast dishes were undone, he needed a shave, and ash from his rolled cigarettes dropped onto his undershirt. Some … Continue reading
The Most Beautiful Woman In Town (Charles Bukowski Poem)
Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl in town. 1/2 Indian with a supple and strange body, a snake-like and fiery body with eyes to go with it. Cass was fluid … Continue reading
Five Flights Up (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Still dark. The unknown bird sits on his usual branch. The little dog next door barks in his sleep inquiringly, just once. Perhaps in his sleep, too, the bird inquires once or twice, quavering. Questions–if that is what they are– … Continue reading
Poem (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
About the size of an old-style dollar bill, American or Canadian, mostly the same whites, gray greens, and steel grays –this little painting (a sketch for a larger one?) has never earned any money in its life. Useless and free, … Continue reading
A Day At Union Station (Tiel Aisha Ansari Poem)
Departure At last, I’m leaving the familiar roof! I’m undeterred by rain and wind. This presentation should be quite a feather in my cap. Eager, I clutch my ticket. I’m going places. Not letting any grass grow, not under these … Continue reading
This (Ralph Angel Poem)
Today, my love, leaves are thrashing the wind just as pedestrians are erecting again the buildings of this drab forbidding city, and our lives, as I lose track of them, are the lives of others derailing in time and getting … Continue reading
In Every Direction (Ralph Angel Poem)
As if you actually died in that dream and woke up dead. Shadows of untangling vines tumble toward the ceiling. A delicate lizard sits on your shoulder, its eyes blinking in every direction. And when you lean forward and present … Continue reading
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 02: Death: And A Derisive Chorus (Conrad Aiken Poem)
The door is shut. She leaves the curtained office, And down the grey-walled stairs comes trembling slowly Towards the dazzling street. Her withered hand clings tightly to the railing. The long stairs rise and fall beneath her feet. Here in … Continue reading
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 03: Palimpsest: A Deceitful Portrait (Conrad Aiken Poem)
Well, as you say, we live for small horizons: We move in crowds, we flow and talk together, Seeing so many eyes and hands and faces, So many mouths, and all with secret meanings,- Yet know so little of them; … Continue reading
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain (Conrad Aiken Poem)
You see that porcelain ranged there in the window- Platters and soup-plates done with pale pink rosebuds, And tiny violets, and wreaths of ivy? See how the pattern clings to the gleaming edges! They’re works of art-minutely seen and felt, … Continue reading