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Oblivious
what harm might come from joy
God knows
how little fit we are for it
night comes into the garden
as it ought to
raw as all life
and we discourse of our own tricks
talking and laughing
at the folly of some neighbor
Poems on the topic: neighbor
Poems on the topic “neighbor” on Poets.by.
New neighbor
Both my wife and I
have seen her gossiping
to her six silver spoons,
her past brought hot
and strange as a whore—
the story is true.
New neighbor
with my alphabet of commodities and Xs
a stranger in town
teach me some other
things to hate
Hell From Below
The upstairs neighbors keep to themselves.
Who wouldn’t? It’s a rough neighborhood.
Gang members are so brazen
they’ve taken to wearing police uniforms.
I sublet a basement from the rats
& commute to work on an exercise wheel.
The shower smells a bit like sulphur,
but the hot water always comes on right away.
I pass people on the street
with faces like crushed cigarette butts,
but I’m sure they’re perfectly nice
once you get to know them.
I hear things, sure—
some kind of BDSM party, I guess,
or an amusement park
with too many scary rides.
The NeverEnding Story
the love i know ebbs and flows
four days of bliss
three of bitter arguments
seven of physical violence
one of concerned neighbors
two of police check-ins
and months of no communication
until it restarts again and again and again
It All
If I enticed you
it was
to see the sun
Set. Yes, as
you say
you had seen
It set before
walking back
I lifted your
Skirts and whacked
you
across the butt
A likely enough
gesture
but I had not
Guessed you had
Mending Wall
Something there is that doesn’t love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing;
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbour know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
People Going By
Before they come I hear their talk
And hear their feet go on the walk.
Some go fast and some go slow,
And some of them I almost know.
In mornings they are going down
To see somebody in the town.
Or Mrs. Warner hurries past;
She has to go and come back fast.
She walks by quick and will not stop,
To go to the church with the cross on top.
I think she goes there every day
To take her rosary and pray.
And one of them is Mr. Jim--
And the big white dog that follows him.
And one is lame; that's Uncle Mells;
He takes off warts by mumbling words,
Portrait by a Neighbor
Before she has her floor swept
Or her dishes done,
Any day you'll find her
A-sunning in the sun!
It's long after midnight
Her key's in the lock,
And you never see her chimney smoke
Till past ten o'clock!
She digs in her garden
With a shovel and a spoon,
She weeds her lazy lettuce
By the light of the moon,
She walks up the walk
Like a woman in a dream,
She forgets she borrowed butter
And pays you back cream!
Nancy Knapp
Well, don’t you see this was the way of it:
We bought the farm with what he inherited,
And his brothers and sisters accused him of poisoning
His father’s mind against the rest of them.
And we never had any peace with our treasure.
The murrain took the cattle, and the crops failed.
And lightning struck the granary.
So we mortgaged the farm to keep going.
And he grew silent and was worried all the time.
Then some of the neighbors refused to speak to us,
And took sides with his brothers and sisters.
And I had no place to turn, as one may say to himself,
At an earlier time in life;
“No matter, So and so is my friend, or I can shake this off
With a little trip to Decatur.”
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