Les plus lus ▸
D. H. Lawrence
The dawn was apple-green,
The sky was green wine held up in the sun,
The moon was a golden petal between.
She opened her eyes, and green
They shone, clear like flowers undone
For the first time, now for the first time seen.
When they said the time to hide was mine,
I hid back under a thick grape vine.
And while I was still for the time to pass,
A little gray thing came out of the grass.
He hopped his way through the melon bed
And sat down close by a cabbage head.
He sat down close where I could see,
And his big still eyes looked hard at me,
His big eyes bursting out of the rim,
And I looked back very hard at him.
in one of my eyes the greatest wonders
and in the other sleep
so with sure glasses
light might be art
art that sings
we all unlearn to limn
beginning eyes
take great light
o my woolly eye
and woolly ear
if we were as wise as we are now
we might have become real
long ear
long eye
open for an hour
I drowse of necessity
I wake for the same
grace of God
Two needles knitting and not an eye between them.
Click click, the path turns in upon itself,
a field of knots.
This is the sound an eyetooth makes
before it breaks.
Bodies aren’t as finished as we think.
A third eye can open anywhere.
Certain navels allure
with a permanent wink.
There’s hardly a part of the body
that can’t learn vision, clock stopped
at the center of a hurricane,
all-seeing shape that plays for keeps.
It shines.
It weeps.
I pay as much as any
for her deep eye
but not to be known
no I am buried in it
then who will see me
asleep with mouth open
am I the whore here
my desire full of convenience
day and my eye
ill still
pain plain as
an ember in amber
we go out on strike
left eye as poor as a cog
heart forced to sing an impossible part
ear a well for the mad
the no-good hips
what faction lit up the mind
to draw a picture I take pains
to observe more than before
ink all in a fresh light
with perspective to delude one’s eye
it would make a man doubt
that ever he saw anything
in the salt of noon comes a dinner
made only of fat
the eye is a fine sight
to see at table
white and still
as an ignorant bed