Silence
four in the morning
my ears coming clear
like the lives of nuns
Contemplative poems
Contemplative poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
Hillbilly
A stone in a dish of peas,
I have come far.
Ladies look freely
up and down at me
and some walk
up and down the town,
which makes me think.
Self-starter
How I inform myself!
A mind to know
is no mind—
sand to the Indies,
the morning star to a fish.
Strung along
The good foot is put
into a suspense of joy:
out and up. Am I
a lunk to think
my life as a puppet
is pleasant,
among mere sticks
knocking the strings?
Smog
Of all the things our ink
signed away,
the peak comes
back in the evening
to rest.
Unbroken
In several places, the sea—
like money, the copy
of a copy. But having
no mind to break, it is
the best resort of water
on a fine still night.
The real news
Where the news is
is the news:
the fleet in the bay,
this wayward isle of noon,
a dinner of simple light.
Sometimes the parliament,
when all question whether
to pay some rose,
is found burning.
Sunday morning
all the morning to herself
and a gown for me—
the paper
Cowboy haiku
noon field—
I find nobody
and a horse
after foolish talk
the discourse
of rain
I keep
a great distance
in my truck
Cemetery tourist
A little churchyard:
graves tempt
with stone and gates,
old walls
and seeing nothing.
Proverbial (12)
Where we keep time,
we are not ready.
Where we love, we exceed,
we eat…
No ideas but in things
Up early
to the morning well.
I hate an abstract tract
made at night.
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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