Forest moth
a moth in the woods is her own light
serving not the expected dark joy
but haste and a heart studious to be a room
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Glebe
dirt-drunk I find company
in the fields
giving nothing roundly
I live like a pig or a knot
Tenement
knocked up
rising to the window
moon
shine on her lip like
a light supper
Salt cure
I came to name my place
a poor little island
after a pill
that shore
rough with wear
may do more good than I know
Isolationist
to live like a lock
exact and satisfied
so fine a contrivance
in such a grotto
but then to have
no light dancing on the sea
and the sea rocking at a distance
in every body
Wisdom Teeth
That time I was marooned
by a toothache – weeping eyes
screwed shut, mouth agape –
I might’ve been taken for someone
in the throes of ecstasy, lying
on the couch with all
the windows open. The weather
was June, and wonderful.
All afternoon I clung to the thread
of the brown thrasher’s song.
Even in extremis it’s simple
to tell a thrasher from his cousin
the catbird: he repeats
almost every improvised line.
Paired phrases sometimes reach
into the low thousands
Patient
toothache
on a clear afternoon
seeing how much
is out of my power
my patient body being
a great ape
Above the river
thoughts wear off
light as thin ice
give no account how matters
stand in the world
how other minds
would loiter on a bridge
Loner
ash for my wages
my being much alone
like any art that children learn
the only business
of the heart will in time be
the present
Outcaste
I am a stranger to the committee
against anything distasteful
an old hat left to lie
at the end of town
I believe in doubt
and seek to be content
Interrogation
the best and most
commodious pocket
is a simple head
I took to measuring the measurer
discoursing with the mind
about discourse
and I find him
not so thorough a philosopher
not being satisfied with my rule
Hearing voices
I hear nothing
but a great tree
the voices that have
been with me all my life
crowd into the crown
an oratory of disorder
compelling hope for the future
like an idle boy
looking in our faces
to see who we might be
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