haiku stringlengths 5 2.3k | source stringlengths 1 74 |
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take the advice of a father who knows
you cannot begin too young
not to be a poet | img2poems |
if i am not
with you when you die
that is just | img2poems |
as the stone is unveiled
she weeps holding on
to the pillars | img2poems |
you'd stroke my hair or hip
all our years the same flip
crack i do too | img2poems |
a respite from disquietude and care
but that left only the lovely story
of a bright presence hanging in the air | img2poems |
a) the body and the material things of the world are the key to any
knowledge we can possess
b) knowledge is only possible by means of the mind or psyche | img2poems |
a) work is the potential source of the greatest human fulfillment
b) liberation from work should be the goal of any movement for
social improvement | img2poems |
the ladder leans into its darkness
the anvil leans into its silence
the cup sits empty | img2poems |
at first she thought the lump in the road
was clay thrown up by a trucker's wheel
then beatrice saw the mess of feathers | img2poems |
and when once in your life you make the big trip to the original
chances are you'll mainly see your own face in the glass that protects
everything of which there's one only in the form of its only maker | img2poems |
the same fierce angle the same penetration
i need to think again how deep the woods run
i need to weigh the cost of staying home | img2poems |
outside white buildings yellow in the sun
outside the birds circle continuously
where trees are actual and take no holiday | img2poems |
she's just cardboard clogging the landfill
her mother precious jade purse
has been regifted | img2poems |
each day a new caption on the cartoon
ending that simply cannot be
one hears repeatedly the role of elegy is | img2poems |
grates like a wet match
from the broccoli patch
flares and all over town begins to catch | img2poems |
each one an active
displacement in perspective
each screaming this is where i live | img2poems |
the crown of red
set on your little head
is charged with all your fighting blood | img2poems |
yes that excrescence
makes a most virile presence
plus all that vulgar beauty of iridescence | img2poems |
all the assembly
that deny deny deny
is not all the roosters cry | img2poems |
the sun climbs in
following to see the end
faithful as enemy or friend | img2poems |
the thing to do is keep a straight face which is hard
after all you're
supposed to be crazy | img2poems |
oh the loops and unloops
destiny unfolds in my knees
i eat breakfast to begin the day | img2poems |
who find themselves so very well
when gazing in that kiddie pool or any
skinny inch of water | img2poems |
then god the mother said to jim in a dream
never mind you jim
come rest again on the country porch of my knees | img2poems |
groping back to bed after a piss
i part thick curtains and am startled by
the rapid clouds the moon's cleanliness | img2poems |
is a reminder of the strength and pain
of being young that it can't come again
but is for others undiminished somewhere | img2poems |
your nurse could only speak italian
but after twenty minutes i could imagine your final week
and tears ran down my cheeks | img2poems |
coming undone something terribly
nimble-fingered
finding all of the stops | img2poems |
sunlight touches our faces
turning us turning us turning us
in our morning sleep | img2poems |
i said sister pack the trunks
you hurt me
i will write that we have departed for france for italy | img2poems |
art that's opera or repertory
the desert song
nancy was in the chorus | img2poems |
but to ask for twelve pounds a week
married aren't you
you've got a nerve | img2poems |
how could i look a bus conductor
in the face
if i paid you twelve pounds | img2poems |
who says it's poetry anyhow
my ten year old
can do it and rhyme | img2poems |
i get three thousand and expenses
a car vouchers
but i'm an accountant | img2poems |
they do what i tell them
my company
what do you do | img2poems |
nasty little words nasty long words
it's unhealthy
i want to wash when i meet a poet | img2poems |
they're reds addicts
all delinquents
what you write is rot | img2poems |
mr hines says so and he's a schoolteacher
he ought to know
go and find work | img2poems |
today in a german dictionary i saw elend
and the heart in my breast turned over it was
it was a word one translates wretched | img2poems |
who in the spring from the new sun
already has a fever got
too late begins those shafts to shun | img2poems |
subway floods and late for audition
start being the author of your own performance
take a walk | img2poems |
sorrow is my corner store
where jack-o'-lantern balloons
get high on the last helium | img2poems |
the endcap is gold today
with numbered bags
of werther's original | img2poems |
last night a newscaster
mentioned an elderly victim
don't call me that | img2poems |
morning of crystal
this is the deathless body and this
the land's blood | img2poems |
how dark soe'er the hills throw out their shade
under her summer green the beautiful lady
covers it like a stone cover'd in grass | img2poems |
gawd bless this world
whatever she 'ath done
excep' when awful long i've found it good | img2poems |
he comes out mildly
attentive soft accent possibly a scottish
childhood possibly sheep to tend | img2poems |
( a man told me i better think
oh dear
i better | img2poems |
and then another
as if he were helping them up
to enter a streetcar and not eternity | img2poems |
the light from the stars makes the shadow equal to the body
light from fire makes it greater
there under the tongue there under the utterance | img2poems |
for when the knife has slit
the throat across from ear to ear
'twill bleed because of it | img2poems |
and she lived unguarded curiously
by no one that she really knew
held very dear | img2poems |
seamus
they once read my letters at a roadblock
and shone their torches on your hieroglyphics | img2poems |
ulster was british but with no rights on
the english lyric: all around us though
we hadn't named it the ministry of fear | img2poems |
shall i tell you the secret
and if i do will you get me
out of this bird suit | img2poems |
old floyd ireson for his hard heart
tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
by the women of marblehead | img2poems |
said old floyd ireson for his hard heart
tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
by the women of marblehead | img2poems |
poor floyd ireson for his hard heart
tarred and feathered and carried in a cart
by the women of marblehead | img2poems |
i roamed the field
angry amp burned
asking bitter questions of a gun | img2poems |
dance is a body's refusal
to die
but oh your gone hair | img2poems |
but not my brand
not at all
and | img2poems |
and on the edge a blackbird
trying over and over its broken line
trying over and over its broken line | img2poems |
i had the pig under my arm
he was bleeding on my foot i said
midget i got friends on that river | img2poems |
so when i look at the sky i see the past
yes yes he said
especially on a clear day | img2poems |
seven miles away
and you know the flowers
of the saguaros bloom only at night | img2poems |
all master narratives of the mind in a rowboat and the rowboat as beautiful as the swamp
glowing the dungeon-state lily pads unfolding like riddles of water the plasticine
heads of amphibians speckled skin of religious fervor and the razor-blade weeds | img2poems |
beneath a dove and rainbow
some bank their fire
wrap their erogenous zones in barbed wire | img2poems |
and the apple and the hill
and we'll puff cigars from noon till night
as if we were alive | img2poems |
thus safe ashore
i ask no more
my all is in my possession | img2poems |
hand trembling towards hand the amazing lights
of heart and eye
they stood on supreme heights | img2poems |
but digging now i feel an otherness
life a great inhuman freedom
here i work a plot that also grounds | img2poems |
but then his mother's sweets you so apply
her joys her smiles her loves as readers take
for venus' ceston every line you make | img2poems |
wake up
it's the middle of the night
you can either make love or die at the hands of the cobra commander | img2poems |
first time he kissed me he but only kissed
the fingers of this hand wherewith i write
and ever since it grew more clean and white | img2poems |
like they say four times up
three times down
i'm still on the mountain | img2poems |
meanwhile my muse right humbly doth beseech
that my good lord accept this vent'rous verse
until my brains may better stuff devise | img2poems |
if a man was never to lie to me
never lie me
i swear i would never leave him | img2poems |
hunger angst: the blue shimmer of emotion water speeding
through a canyon to see only to know: to wake finding
a lug nut ticket stub string personal card ink smear | img2poems |
of us
my life belongs to the world
i will do what i can | img2poems |
so that everyone has his own
private piece to kill
will we do it | img2poems |
the dancers come dressed like rainbows
and linking hands they turn
to the melancholy fiddles | img2poems |
inamoratas with an approbation
bestowed his title
blessed his inclination | img2poems |
he waits a moment he designs his reign
that no performance may be plain or vain
then rises in a clear delirium | img2poems |
he sheds with his pajamas shabby days
and his desertedness his intricate fear the
postponed resentments and the prim precautions | img2poems |
here are hats
like bright umbrellas and hysterical ties
like narrow banners for some gathering war | img2poems |
we'll raise the curtain fill the house start the engines
fly off into the sunrise the spire of the empire state
the last sight on the horizon as the earth begins to curve | img2poems |
vainly she calls upon michael
for michael has fled from his tower
to the angel over the sea | img2poems |
hanging his head between his knees
spent before he jerks himself up
and starts all over again | img2poems |
i acknowledge there is no sweetness
that doesn't leave a stain
no sweetness that's ever sufficiently sweet | img2poems |
where it's been or what bitter road
it's traveled
to come so far to taste so good | img2poems |
their jousting ends in music much
as trees move more easily in the wind after a summer storm
and is happening in lacy shadows of shore-trees now day after day | img2poems |
when they take their break they leave their brooms standing at attention in the asphalt pails
work gloves clinging like br'er rabbit to the bitten shafts and they slouch along the precipitous lip
the enormous sky behind them the heavy noontime air alive with shimmers and mirages | img2poems |
that you are good
that you love them
that you would save them again | img2poems |
so i was put on waivers right after camp
and here i am panty-sniffer about to die a clown
who once opened a hole you could drive nebraska through | img2poems |
i said is it true
we are sisters
they said yes we are of one family | img2poems |
odd comfort when the light goes the case lights left on
and the rings of baloney the herring the parsley
arranged in the strict familiar ways | img2poems |
whatever intactness holds animals up
has been carefully taken what's left are the parts
just look in the cases all counted and stacked | img2poems |
triumphant unaware we've left behind
this mop and mow mechanism
of silence to which we may never return | img2poems |
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