Soft Hail

S
Afterward, to tell how it was possible to
identify absolute space, a matter of great
difficulty, keeping in mind always
that not all old music is beautiful and
therefore it’s necessary to choose. Ice
loading and unloading as the ice caps
wax and wither. Brutal and uncouth from the beginning
even unto time, space, place, motion.

How are we to obtain true motion? I
predict a fiasco—and a fiasco
with catcalls. Wind circulation in the
case of plants, predators in the case
of animals, affecting their distribution on
the ancient land masses. And
who will conduct the chorus and
orchestra? Many things exist at once.

Predilection and preference. Begin
with the storm. A very agile, beautiful
voice. With tremendous temperament. The earth’s
magnetic field weakening. Even the princess
is drawn into the violence of the action,
extremes of joy, mad ravings, almost
requiring the conventions of opera. Thus,
thus; we parted, thus to meet again.

Thus in a ship, under sail, since the sun
itself is moving, supposing Infinite
Space to be (as it were) Sensorium
of the Omnipresent. Reduced to a
few feet of ground, we begin with great
delight to plant a garden. The Czar is in
that garden. Quiet eruptions, safe enough to attract
tourists. We suppose other bodies annihilated.

Upon any conditions supposed, taught to describe
accurately, I detest everything that smells
of theory. If we look at similar
coral reefs, the past location of the same
precise environment can be traced. But
there the comparison breaks. And from these
relative motions will arise the relative
motion of a body on the earth.
36
Rating:

Comment form:

*Max text - 500. Manual moderation.

Similar Poems:

Cancer, or, The Crab by Joseph Gordon Macleod
Joseph Gordon Macleod
Moonpoison, mullock of sacrifice,
Suffuses the veins of the eyes
Till the retina, mooncoloured,
Sees the sideways motion of the cretin crab
Hued thus like a tortoise askew in the glaucous moonscape
A flat hot boulder it
Lividly in the midst of the Doldrums
Sidles
Read Poem
0
44
Rating:

The Test of Fantasy by Joanne Kyger
Joanne Kyger
1.

It unfolds and ripples like a banner, downward. All the stories
come folding out. The smells and flowers begin to come back, as
the tapestry is brightly colored and brocaded. Rabbits and violets.

Who asked you to come over? She got her foot in the door and
would not remove it, elbowing and talking swiftly. Gas leak?
that sounds like a very existential position; perhaps you had
better check with the landlord.
Read Poem
0
50
Rating:

Of Being Numerous: Sections 1-22 by George Oppen
George Oppen
1

There are things
We live among ‘and to see them
Is to know ourselves’.

Occurrence, a part
Of an infinite series,

The sad marvels;

Of this was told
Read Poem
0
56
Rating:

from The Prelude: Book 1: Childhood and School-time by William Wordsworth
William Wordsworth
—Was it for this
That one, the fairest of all Rivers, lov'd
To blend his murmurs with my Nurse's song,
And from his alder shades and rocky falls,
And from his fords and shallows, sent a voice
That flow'd along my dreams? For this, didst Thou,
O Derwent! travelling over the green Plains
Near my 'sweet Birthplace', didst thou, beauteous Stream
Read Poem
0
62
Rating:

from The Prelude: Book 2: School-time (Continued) by William Wordsworth
William Wordsworth
Thus far, O Friend! have we, though leaving much
Unvisited, endeavour'd to retrace
My life through its first years, and measured back
The way I travell'd when I first began
To love the woods and fields; the passion yet
Was in its birth, sustain'd, as might befal,
By nourishment that came unsought, for still,
From week to week, from month to month, we liv'd
A round of tumult: duly were our games
Prolong'd in summer till the day-light fail'd;
No chair remain'd before the doors, the bench
And threshold steps were empty; fast asleep
The Labourer, and the old Man who had sate,
A later lingerer, yet the revelry
Continued, and the loud uproar: at last,
Read Poem
0
61
Rating:

Mythistorema by George Seferis
George Seferis
1

The angel —
three years we waited for him, attention riveted,
closely scanning
the pines the shore the stars.
One with the blade of the plough or the ship’s keel
we were searching to find once more the first seed
so that the age-old drama could begin again.
Read Poem
0
69
Rating:

The Building of the Ship by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Build me straight, O worthy Master!
Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel,
That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!"

The merchant's word
Delighted the Master heard;
For his heart was in his work, and the heart
Giveth grace unto every Art.
A quiet smile played round his lips,
As the eddies and dimples of the tide
Play round the bows of ships,
That steadily at anchor ride.
And with a voice that was full of glee,
He answered, "Erelong we will launch
Read Poem
0
69
Rating:

Cleon by Robert Browning
Robert Browning
"As certain also of your own poets have said"—
(Acts 17.28)
Cleon the poet (from the sprinkled isles,
Lily on lily, that o'erlace the sea
And laugh their pride when the light wave lisps "Greece")—
To Protus in his Tyranny: much health!
Read Poem
0
78
Rating:

A Death in the Desert by Robert Browning
Robert Browning
[Supposed of Pamphylax the Antiochene:
It is a parchment, of my rolls the fifth,
Hath three skins glued together, is all Greek,
And goeth from Epsilon down to Mu:
Lies second in the surnamed Chosen Chest,
Stained and conserved with juice of terebinth,
Covered with cloth of hair, and lettered Xi,
From Xanthus, my wife's uncle, now at peace:
Mu and Epsilon stand for my own name.
I may not write it, but I make a cross
To show I wait His coming, with the rest,
And leave off here: beginneth Pamphylax.]

I said, "If one should wet his lips with wine,
"And slip the broadest plantain-leaf we find,
Read Poem
0
95
Rating: