sábado, 27 de maio de 2017

O sweet spontaneous - E. E. Cummings

       











O sweet spontaneous - E. E. Cummings

O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting

fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked

thee
, has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy

beauty, how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and

buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
(but
true

to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover

thou answerest

them only with

spring)





October’s Bright Blue Weather Helen Hunt Jackson
the sky was E. E. Cummings
this is the garden: colours come and go E. E. Cummings
To the Dead Favourite of Liu Ch’e Djuna Barnes
Where’s Madge then E. E. Cummings
The Wicked Zebra Frank Roe Batchelder






Lawyers Know Too Much - Carl Sandburg

THE LAWYERS, Bob, know too much.
They are chums of the books of old John Marshall.
They know it all, what a dead hand Wrote,
A stiff dead hand and its knuckles crumbling,
The bones of the fingers a thin white ash.        5
    The lawyers know
      a dead man’s thoughts too well.

In the heels of the higgling lawyers, Bob,
Too many slippery ifs and buts and howevers,
Too much hereinbefore provided whereas,        10
Too many doors to go in and out of.

    When the lawyers are through
    What is there left, Bob?
    Can a mouse nibble at it
    And find enough to fasten a tooth in?        15

    Why is there always a secret singing
    When a lawyer cashes in?
    Why does a hearse horse snicker
    Hauling a lawyer away?

The work of a bricklayer goes to the blue.        20
The knack of a mason outlasts a moon.
The hands of a plasterer hold a room together.
The land of a farmer wishes him back again.
    Singers of songs and dreamers of plays
    Build a house no wind blows over.        25
The lawyers—tell me why a hearse horse snickers hauling a lawyer’s bones.

  The Dial













It may not always be so;and I say - E. E. Cummings

it may not always be so; and i say
that if your lips,which i have loved,should touch
another’s,and your dear strong fingers clutch
his heart,as mine in time not far away;
if on another’s face your sweet hair lay
in such silence as i know,or such
great writhing words as,uttering overmuch,
stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

if this should be,i say if this should be—
you of my heart,send me a little word;
that i may go unto him,and take his hands,
saying,Accept all happiness from me.
Then shall i turn my face,and hear one bird
sing terribly afar in the lost lands















I Remember, I Remember - Thomas Hood

I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in at morn;
He never came a wink too soon,
Nor brought too long a day,
But now, I often wish the night
Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember,
The roses, red and white,
The vi'lets, and the lily-cups,
Those flowers made of light!
The lilacs where the robin built,
And where my brother set
The laburnum on his birthday,—
The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember,
Where I was used to swing,
And thought the air must rush as fresh
To swallows on the wing;
My spirit flew in feathers then,
That is so heavy now,
And summer pools could hardly cool
The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember,
The fir trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender tops
Were close against the sky:
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm farther off from heav'n
Than when I was a boy.
















I have found what you are like - E. E. Cummings

i have found what you are like
the rain,

            (Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
                                  with thinned

newfragile yellows

                      lurch and.press

—in the woods
                      which
                              stutter
                                        and

                                              sing
And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
                  your kiss












He and She - Ironquill

When I am dead you'll find it hard,
Said he,
To ever find another man
Like me.
What makes you think, as I suppose
You do,
I'd ever want another man
Like you?













Enough - Thomas Lansing Masson




The Face on The Barroom Floor Hugh Antoine d'Arcy







Buffalo Bill’s - E. E. Cummings

Buffalo Bill ’s
defunct
               who used to
               ride a watersmooth-silver
                                                                  stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat
                                                                                                     Jesus

he was a handsome man
                                                  and what i want to know is
how do you like your blue-eyed boy
Mister Death







Buffalo Bill’s E. E. Cummings







Be a Friend - Edgar A. Guest


Be a friend. You don't need money:
Just a disposition sunny;
Just the wish to help another
Get along some way or other;


Just a kindly hand extended
Out to one who's unbefriended;
Just the will to give or lend,
This will make you someone's friend.


Be a friend. You don't need glory.
Friendship is a simple story.
Pass by trifling errors blindly,
Gaze on honest effort kindly,


Cheer the youth who's bravely trying,
Pity him who's sadly sighing;
Just a little labor spend
On the duties of a friend.


Be a friend. The pay is bigger
(Though not written by a figure)
Than is earned by people clever
In what's merely self-endeavor.


You'll have friends instead of neighbors
For the profits of your labors;
You'll be richer in the end
Than a prince, if you're a friend.












April - Louis Ginsberg


EVEN when all my body sleeps,
  I shall remember yet
The wistfulness that April keeps,
  When boughs at dusk are wet.

The haunted twilight on the lane;        5
  The far-off cricket’s croon;
And beautiful and washed by rain,
  The mellow rounded moon!

So, underneath the waving grass,
  And underneath the dew,        10
April, whenever you will pass,
  My dust will dream of you!

  The Argosy





All in green my love went riding - E. E. Cummings

All in green went my love riding
On a great horse of gold
Into the silver dawn.

Four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
The merry deer ran before.

Fleeter be they than dappled dreams
The swift sweet deer
The red rare deer.

Four red roebuck at a white water
The cruel bugle sang before.

Horn at hip went my love riding
Riding the echo down
Into the silver dawn.

Four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
The level meadows ran before.

Softer be they than slippered sleep
The lean lithe deer
The fleet flown deer.

Four fleet does at a gold valley
The famished arrow sang before.


Bow at belt went my love riding
Riding the mountain down
Into the silver dawn.

Four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
The sheer peaks ran before.

Paler be they than daunting death
The sleek slim deer
The tall tense deer.

Four tell stags at a green mountain
The lucky hunter sang before.

All in green went my love riding
On a great horse of gold
Into the silver dawn.

Four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
My heart fell dead before.









Accomplished Facts - Carl Sandburg

Every year Emily Dickinson sent one friend
the first arbutus bud in her garden.

In a last will and testament Andrew Jackson
remembered a friend with the gift of George
Washington’s pocket spy-glass.

Napoleon too, in a last testament, mentioned a silver
watch taken from the bedroom of Frederick the Great,
and passed along this trophy to a particular friend.

O. Henry took a blood carnation from his coat lapel
and handed it to a country girl starting work in a
bean bazaar, and scribbled: “Peach blossoms may or
may not stay pink in city dust.”
So it goes. Some things we buy, some not.
Tom Jefferson was proud of his radishes, and Abe
Lincoln blacked his own boots, and Bismarck called
Berlin a wilderness of brick and newspapers.

So it goes. There are accomplished facts.
Ride, ride, ride on in the great new blimps—
Cross unheard-of oceans, circle the planet.
When you come back we may sit by five hollyhocks.
We might listen to boys fighting for marbles.
The grasshopper will look good to us.

So it goes …











Short Poetry Collection 016


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