Division
where day and night parted
I receive my legacy of oughts
Poems on the topic: day
Poems on the topic “day” on Poets.by.
Singular
I used to wake without my work
without a double all day
sitting in me
Proverbial (11)
A chin of good cheer
in a famine
is the greatest extremity.
Some part of this day
is another.
Have a nice day
O, an ice
day—a night-
to-be.
Sunset
sun settling on the sea
like a public head
I cannot understand
what I have been today
March 11, 2016
"It's just a bad day,"
She always told everyone
But nobody ever considered that she was more reassuring herself than others
over
One day, one day, just not today.
Hokku 20
"Let day pass,
"Let night break," —
So the frogs sing morning and eve.
Smiles
I saw a black girl once,
As black as winter's night;
Till through her parted lips
There came a flood of light;
It was the milky way
Across her face so black:
Her two lips closed again,
And night came back.
I see a maiden now,
Fair as a summer's day;
Yet through her parted lips
I see the milky way;
It makes the broad daylight
In summer time look black:
Her two lips close again,
And night comes back.
Irradiations XXVIII
I remember, there was a day
During which I did not write a line of verse:
Nor did I speak a word to any woman,
Nor did I meet with death.
Yet all that day I was fully occupied:
My eyes saw trees, clouds, streets, houses, people;
My lungs breathed air;
My mouth swallowed food and drink;
My hands seized things, my feet touched earth,
Or spurned it at my desire.
On that day I know I would have been sufficiently happy,
If I could have kept my brain from bothering at all
About my next trite poem;
About the tedious necessities of sex;
And about the day on which I would at last meet death.
The Glory of the Day Was in Her Face
The glory of the day was in her face,
The beauty of the night was in her eyes.
And over all her loveliness, the grace
Of Morning blushing in the early skies.
And in her voice, the calling of the dove;
Like music of a sweet, melodious part.
And in her smile, the breaking light of love;
And all the gentle virtues in her heart.
And now the glorious day, the beauteous night,
The birds that signal to their mates at dawn,
To my dull ears, to my tear-blinded sight
Are one with all the dead, since she is gone.
Three Songs for Sewing 3
One by one, one by one,
Stitches of the hours run
Through the fine seams of the day,
Till like a garment it is done
And laid away.
One by one the days go by,
And suns climb up and down the sky;
One by one their seams are run —
As Time's untiring fingers ply
And life is done.
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