The Good Life
If that itch my fear would die,
I could have a fine dinner,
put my papers in order,
lie carelessly
with my wife
and walk in the garden.
Poems on the topic: garden
Poems on the topic “garden” on Poets.by.
Khayyamesque
Lord’s day. My Lord preached:
“To whom much is given, of him
much is required.”
I took her to my Lord’s wine garden
where I was exceeding free with her
and she free as me.
The Inward Park
I look for joy and find a garden,
walk in the park endeavoring
to get into the inward park,
carry people over
through the common bed.
Fir Tree
The fir is never seen in draft
but among the greatest company.
I turn to her
and find in a garden
the desire to be quiet as a bride.
Suchness
Organs play for the moss in the garden,
the great beauty walks to cook:
my Zen.
The Fall
her stark anatomy
in the garden
I look at the ground
a city ordered to be kept shut
the body’s a thing
of bad colors
Beautification
Made myself fine
like a grave in the garden—
my estate which I lease
to wormwood
every night.
Exclusion
The mind is a crowded altar.
I hear the music
of an owl in the garden
mourning the loss of all the notes.
Wage
Work is a great garden of money
which will come up
in the chest, a place
with no water or land
where I glut myself on fear.
An ordinary garden demands joy
like a cook committed to folly,
but not money, which is such
a perfect version of death.
It needs to keep increasing,
the whole good night
full of miracle.
Seizure
having a fit in the garden
my whole mind against
one stone
a rabbit at the fire
Hole
a hard turn in
the garden
of love
making a hole
to look into
and the dirt
when my house is
pulled down
the night I see
Husbandry
Water comes
to my garden
in the finest coat
laced with rich lace.
And on the night of the fire,
all the doors in the street
dancing with light…
The world is an old wife
not seen since the wedding.
We turn a country into a cot
and not a bed.
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