Poems
02.09.2010 / 19.54 pm
 
by Marianne Clarke Moore
Rating: 3.00
Votes: 1
Strong and slippery, built for the midnight grass-party confronted by four cats,
he sleeps his time away -- the detached first claw on his foreleg which corresponds
to the thumb, retracted to its tip; the small tuft of fronds
or katydid legs above each eye, still numbering the units in each group;
the shadbones regularly set about his mouth, to droop or rise
in unison like the porcupine's quills -- motionless. He lets himself be flat­
tened out by gravity, as it were a piece of seaweed tamed and weakened by
exposure to the sun; compelled when extended, to lie
stationary. Sleep is the result of his delusion that one must do as
well as one can for oneself; sleep -- epitome of what is to

him as to the average person, the end of life. Demonstrate on him how
the lady caught the dangerous southern snake, placing a forked stick on either
side of its innocuous neck; one need not try to stir
him up; his prune shaped head and alligator eyes are not a party to the
joke. Lifted and handled, he may be dangled like an eel or set

up on the forearm like a mouse; his eyes bisected by pupils of a pin's
width, are flickeringly exhibited, then covered up. May be? I should say,
might have been; when he has been got the better of in a
dream -- as in a fight with nature or with cats -- we all know it. Profound sleep is
not with him, a fixed illusion. Springing about with froglike ac­

curacy, emitting jerky cries when taken in the hand, he is himself
again; to sit caged by the rungs of a domestic chair would be unprofit­
able -- human. What is the good of hypocrisy? It
is permissible to choose one's employment, to abandon the wire nail, the
roly-poly, when it shows signs of being no longer a pleas­

ure, to score the adjacent magazine with a double line of strokes. He can
talk, but insolently says nothing. What of it? When one is frank, one's very
presence is a compliment. It is clear that he can see
the virtue of naturalness, that he is one of those who do not regard
the published fact as a surrender. As for the disposition

invariably to affront, an animal with claws wants to have to use
them; that eel-like extension of trunk into tail is not an accident. To
leap, to lengthen out, divide the air -- to purloin, to pursue.
to tell the hen: fly over the fence, go in the wrong way -- in your perturba­
tion -- this is life; to do less would be nothing but dishonesty.


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Poetry

I too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers that there is in
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Marriage

This institution,
perhaps one should say enterprise
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To An Intra-mural Rat

You make me think of many men
Once met, to be forgot again
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Archibald LampmanArchibald Lampman (9)
(1861 - 1899)
Was a Canadian poet.
Walter de la MareWalter de la Mare (10)
(1873 - 1956)
Was an English poet, short story writer and novelist, probably best remembered for his works for children and "The Listeners".
Wilfred OwenWilfred Owen (19)
(1893 - 1918)
Was a poet and soldier, regarded by many as the leading poet of the First World War.
Alfred NoyesAlfred Noyes (7)
(1880 - 1958)
Was an English poet, best known for his ballads The Highwayman and The Barrel Organ.

Epistles To Several Persons: Epistle To Dr. Arbuthnot

Neque sermonibus vulgi dederis te, nec in præmiis spem posueris rerum tuarum; suiste oportet illecebris ipsa virtus trahat ad verum decus. Quid de te alii loquantur, ipsi videant,sed loquentur tamen.
(Cicero, De Re Publica VI.23)["... you will not any longer attend to the vulgar mob's gossip nor put your trust in human rewards for your deeds; virtue, through her own charms, should lead you to true glory. Let what others say about you be their concern; whatever it is, they will say it anyway."
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My Old Football

YOU can keep your antique silver and your statuettes of bronze,
Your curios and tapestries so fine,
Rating: 4.00
Votes: 1
 

Hymn To Intellectual Beauty

The awful shadow of some unseen Power
Floats through unseen among us, -- visiting
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Anacreontics, The Swallow

FOOLISH prater, what dost thou
So early at my window do?
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The Dark One Is Krishna

Thick overhead
clouds of the monsoon,
Rating: 4.33
Votes: 3
 








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