The tree lay down
on the garage roof
and stretched, You
have your heaven,
it said, go to it.
-William Carlos Williams
Posted in poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, william carlos williams, words, Write, Writer, writing on 08/28/2011| Leave a Comment »
The tree lay down
on the garage roof
and stretched, You
have your heaven,
it said, go to it.
-William Carlos Williams
Posted in poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, william carlos williams, words, Write, writing on 03/25/2011| Leave a Comment »
Let the snake wait under
his weed
and the writing
be of words, slow and quick, sharp
to strike, quiet to wait,
sleepless.
— through metaphor to reconcile
the people and the stones.
Compose. (No ideas
but in things) Invent!
Saxifrage is my flower that splits
the rocks.
-William Carlos Williams
Posted in Danse Russe, poem, poem of the day, poet, poetry, william carlos williams, Write, Writer on 05/21/2007| Leave a Comment »
Danse Russe
If when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,-
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
“I am lonely, lonely,
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!”
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,-
Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?
-William Carlos Williams