Singing Its Heart Out
singing its heart out
to no one in particular
morning blackbird
Poems on the topic: song
Poems on the topic “song” on Poets.by.
Bird Union
What’s your name
I asked
Omnibird
Said it in surroundsound
No primadonnas among us
One sounds like another of its kind
And doesn’t mind the rhyme
It’s the art of singing in a choir
Even when singing solo
Petition re petition
A signature campaign
Second sopranos
Clamoring to be first
Periphery
Be near enough to the periphery
to discern the wing-settle-sounds
small birds make in thickets,
their halls —
Near enough for red to insist
that you regard it as haw,
rose-leavings
Know, bird-panic sounds
differently to wing-settle’s
soft-rest after the flurry of
flight,
they say —
It held —
Maybe there was no yarn
and you hung the bird-bell
from a delicate thread
The Azaleas
The flashes of azaleas red and white
Die and burn and die again :
The sun and clouds part and meet and part again.
Among the clouds of azaleas white and red
I see one flash never die :
O the idyl beauty of her face!
Hey for my heart's delight !
Is she not waiting for my love and song
Among the clouds of azaleas red and white ?
Songs of Insects
Under the night of full breath,
Fired by the wine the golden goblet-moon spilt,
The insects are mad in their tremour of hearts :
There are a thousand voices of joy and dance,
But only one song of sadness and ghost.
O passionate song of ones, I believe, returned to the ground,
Now awakening to the sad songs they still left unsung !
The spirit of a song is never content till it is fully sung :
O the passionate songs of night and wounded heart,
Are they not the cry of my soul of fever and dream ?
Fantasia
Bits of straw and clay and woman's hair, —
So shall be builded my house :
Oh to lose the world and gain a song !
Let the clouds flit through the window at the left ;
The dancers shapeless in pain and pride,
From the right dance in as a tide :
A spirit of pagan days, sick in joy,
That rose at the sound of their stamping feet,
I'll sing a song that makes the seas the hills.
(Morality begins, I am afraid, where I stop my song.)
Rags to roll me in, pieces of dream,
So with my heart of nocturnal fear ;
I have choice of the sky red in memory and art.
Let the stars fall in the garden rose :
The leaves and my souls in a thousand guises
Hurry to the ground to build a grave.
Zephyr
Zephyr comes unaware,
And sings underneath my arms :
When it makes a sudden stop,
I will finish the song of its wandering soul.
Zephyr comes like a Beauty
Underneath my arms smiling, smiling.
She looks upon me, and says :
" Shall we hide us from birds and men under the roses ? "
Zephyr comes with doleful heart,
Sighing, sighing, underneath my arms.
I whisper a tale of a Life of Gold,
We fly into the Palace of the Sun.
Hokku 71
The nightingales under the boughs,
Sighing now white, now red,
Sing a pearl song
Over the greyness of earth.
Hokku 41
The ancient song of my heart
Comes and goes in Life's light.
Sudden, a glow, a rainbow.
Draws its line across the breast of my soul.
Hokku 37
To become tree-man,
Oh, songs given back by the winds !
What joy of no-man.
Hokku 36
But the march to Life . . .
Break song to sing the new song!
Clouds leap, flowers bloom.
Hokku 30
Bits of song . . . what else?
I, a rider of the stream,
Lone between the clouds.
Describe a feeling — we’ll find a poem
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