Hermetic
time to meet with the plaster and brick
that belong to my lodgings
quiet as the ground
I go shut my doors
being open might give longing a home
Poems on the topic: door
Poems on the topic “door” on Poets.by.
Commission
Carpenter, make me
a door into my life.
I am a crow, a plain old woman.
I bring none but myself to dinner
by the light of the moon.
Give me a further gallery
in my good ear.
Takeout
a door in the door
taking occasion to complain
of the supper
The pain of others
Mourning filled my eyes
with leased doors.
I saw how all I own
I am not to keep.
Enclosure
The contrivance
of the door—square
and blind—and behind
the door the air
of office or lodgings
take a view of desire
and turn it into order,
which is so bitter
a house.
By any other name
This rose at her door
called me to know her,
the day very pleasant,
though the way bad
and I a newborn,
my head aching.
Water way
Water is a door
to a thin religion:
see a sea change
and learn the way
of being worse.
Art is in arrears.
Tell me, what furniture
am I to be?
Surgery
This morning the carpenter
made an end of my door,
this morning the surgeon
with a barrel of lemons
went to the exchange
and broke me where
I had not been, so fresh
was the night within me.
In the Hague (tanka)
Two pretty ladies
kiss the two blades with them.
I drop my rapier.
We walk up and down the town.
In every door, the moon.
Laborer
my work is not as I could
and not as I would
work myself
at night I go to a little private
door in a wall
and through a narrow place
and into a box
Quest
I am a madman
at war with my doubts
the door open
I knock three or four times
and talk alone at church
like a letter to a match
Helpless
morning news—
I wonder what to do
what to do in a lodging
without a door
where I lie in amber
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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