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To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
Poems on the topic: perception
Poems on the topic “perception” on Poets.by.
What to Call It
To the thrush singing at the woods’ edge
it must look as if I’m hitting myself
but that’s only incidental.
I’m swatting mosquitoes.
To the cops at the stadium
it might appear that she’s praying
when she closes her eyes
to see the afterimages on her eyelids.
To friends & admirers of the legendary coach
it must’ve seemed so generous,
all the things he gave those boys,
all the places he took them.
To us it’s a mournful song
but to the wood thrush itself?
Perhaps just the sound of dusk
passing through its windpipe.
Sonnet for Second Glances
You talk so much of busy trains,
the heat, the harsh florescent light
and how they fall upon the brain.
I would have thought that such a sight
would be a poet’s paradise —
the many varied histories,
the pointless pockets of a life
all written on the identities
of passenger faces. Each look
reveals another form of you
returning the gaze; and each nook
conceals the chance for something new.
But, perhaps, you only perceive
the busy train you want to leave.
Nerves
nerves know the visitor
can feel the lassitude the call
the sudden song.
soul sees the inner
movement will
thought tries description fails
the mind wincing at
a platitude which could startle
the tenth time
in well-kept yards fenced sprayed
the easy certainties unchallenged
wait for the visitor
to trample break stifling
air so trees crash
and fly lyrical
Impression, Sunrise
Confusion simplifies:
sun’s a red dot in murk,
boat’s a black patch
on murk, just a spill
of red light lets seeing tell
a difference between one
murk and another. It’s all
a seeming in which morning
looks as vague as thoughts
or the other way around, and
blended seemings compose
a soup which eyes will taste as light,
air, water. A painter makes
one moist concoction seem
like another, and we look at
what seems to have been seen
Gubbinal
That strange flower, the sun,
Is just what you say.
Have it your way.
The world is ugly,
And the people are sad.
That tuft of jungle feathers,
That animal eye,
Is just what you say.
That savage of fire,
That seed,
Have it your way.
The world is ugly,
And the people are sad.
Metaphors of a Magnifico
Twenty men crossing a bridge,
Into a village,
Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges,
Into twenty villages,
Or one man
Crossing a single bridge into a village.
This is old song
That will not declare itself ...
Twenty men crossing a bridge,
Into a village,
Are
Twenty men crossing a bridge
Into a village.
That will not declare itself
Yet is certain as meaning ...
The boots of the men clump
Ox Street. Takanawa
What is a rainbow ?
Have I not seen its colours and its shape
Duplicated in the melon slices
Lying beside an empty cart ?
Sonnet 148: O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head
O me! what eyes hath Love put in my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight;
Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled,
That censures falsely what they see aright?
If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote,
What means the world to say it is not so?
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all men's: no,
How can it? O! how can Love's eye be true,
That is so vexed with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not, till heaven clears.
O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
Thel's Motto
Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
Or wilt thou go ask the Mole:
Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
Or Love in a golden bowl?
Like Men and Women Shadows walk
Like Men and Women Shadows walk
Upon the Hills Today --
With here and there a mighty Bow
Or trailing Courtesy
To Neighbors doubtless of their own
Not quickened to perceive
Minuter landscape as Ourselves
And Boroughs where we live --
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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