* * *
Afterwards, the air came cheap,
new wants sleeping at the breast.
Grandmothers in the bush for a good time,
the post-it note read.
Poems on the topic: air
Poems on the topic “air” on Poets.by.
Fleeting
Enclosing, enclosing,
I can't breathe,
Properly.
Tainted, tainted,
The air is poisoned,
Dreadfully.
Jesting, jesting,
Your voice cuts me,
Painfully.
Teasing, teasing,
Playing games,
Cruelly.
Walking, walking,
Laughter rings,
Casually.
Plotting, plotting,
Eyes Go Thinly
eyes go thinly
of time and the coming
light backing up on us and
crawl of circumstance: people
everywhere
displacing air as if
belonging to them
and I
displacing air as if
belonging to me.
outrageous dream of
symmetry / crack
but close to the place
where vision stands: the walk
the run
of signs, crumbling habit.
* * *
Moving on
Is like finally being able to breathe
And dear God
Is the fresh air nice
Though Bound to Earth
Though we are bound to earth by many ties,
And all along the roads whereby we came
A thousand tongues to listening hearts proclaim
Our kinship with the world that round us lies;
Though sunlit fields and woods and arching skies,
And flowers that break in shafts of living name,
Constrain with beauty all our quickened frame,
Breathing love's messages in sweetest guise;
Yet deeper than all rapture earth may bring
Is that fine sense whereby we are aware
Of something in ourselves that does not spring
From life without or in its fullness share,
But like a captive bird with quivering wing
Strains ever to its native, purer air.
When I Rise Up
When I rise above the earth,
And look down on the things that fetter me,
I beat my wings upon the air.
Or tranquil lie,
Surge after surge of potent strength
Like incense comes to me
When I rise up above the earth
And look down upon the things that fetter me.
The Woman's Mind
Knowledge, to me, is wearisome from books,
I learn so readily from words and looks.
Give me yourself as free as air and rain.
I'll drink, I'll think, and send you flowers again.
The Country House
Did the door move, or was it always ajar ?
The gladioli on the table are pale mauve.
I smell pale mauve and blue,
Blue soft like bruises — putrid — oozing —
The air oozes blue — mauve —
And the door with the black line where it does not shut!
I must pass that door to go to bed.
Or I must stay here
And watch the crack
Oozing air.
Is it — air ?
Summer Wind
It is a sultry day; the sun has drank
The dew that lay upon the morning grass,
There is no rustling in the lofty elm
That canopies my dwelling, and its shade
Scarce cools me. All is silent, save the faint
And interrupted murmur of the bee,
Settling on the sick flowers, and then again
Instantly on the wing. The plants around
Feel the too potent fervors; the tall maize
Rolls up its long green leaves; the clover droops
Its tender foliage, and declines its blooms.
But far in the fierce sunshine tower the hills,
With all their growth of woods, silent and stern,
As if the scortching heat and dazzling light
Were but an element they loved. Bright clouds,
Motionless pillars of the brazen heaven;--
Fragment: Zephyrus the Awakener
Come, thou awakener of the spirit's ocean,
Zephyr, whom to thy cloud or cave
No thought can trace! speed with thy gentle motion!
Fragment: A Tale Untold
One sung of thee who left the tale untold,
Like the false dawns which perish in the bursting;
Like empty cups of wrought and daedal gold,
Which mock the lips with air, when they are thirsting.
Sonnet 13
XIII
To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.
Harry whose tuneful and well measur'd Song
First taught our English Musick how to span
Words with just note and accent, not to scan
With Midas Ears, committing short and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,
With praise enough for Envy to look wan;
To after age thou shalt be writ the man,
That with smooth aire couldst humor best our tongue
Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must send her wing
To honour thee, the Priest of Phoebus Quire
That tun'st their happiest lines in Hymn or Story
Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher
Then his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing
Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.
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