Apothegmatic
Only love a bard
for the company and the wine,
as a king
is a ladder to the crown.
Poems on the topic: king
Poems on the topic “king” on Poets.by.
The Devil Hears Voices
Walking papers — I have nothing more.
That and a sandwich.
I bring water to the bridge
and a cannon to judge the king.
Fishy
I take the king’s picture
and make it speak:
Pay me in kindness.
A lamb is not glad
to fetch money.
Even our accounts
with wine and anchovies.
In/formal
I talk with my dog
where I talk to the king:
privately.
Between home and bed.
The King’s Evil
I went to the well to see
the king touch people
for the king’s evil.
The poor people stand
all morning in the rain,
the wind in the corn
changing all remembrance
into country.
Checkmate
Bet for beer, I put
the white king
in the park at night.
Substitute
The king, holding us
in his arms, laying
down on a chair,
breaks open
and gives us
his sons and countries,
his family, his ceremonies,
his neck and his left leg
like a ham made to do
in lieu of lobster.
Feast
Red in the morning,
a great orange disorder on which to dine.
Bottles of wine alter us.
We walk up and down and weep,
sore from sitting,
and kneel—not to the king
but to eat a piece of bread
out of a poor boy’s pocket.
Public Relations
A letter from the general:
my duty is to kill; my power, to write;
my mission, to proclaim with great praise.
Under the story of the king is the king.
He calls me a very knowing man.
Warp
War is a roar, a Vive le Roi
from one to another possessed servant
with the king’s lips.
The speakers suffer nothing more
than to be loyal, dutiful, faithful
and obedient ninepins.
No place to belong to,
every man is clerk of the signet.
Minister and army tell me
that pain is a present.
Living Large
I take leave of trouble
with a dinner of oats,
get one window to the sea
and another to the deck
like a king.
Ursine
I ate all summer, as much as I could.
Tell me a king will come and soldiers
drink in the streets.
I stay a bear.
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