Archives For William Carlos Williams

Three Snow Poems

January 17, 2014

 

Three snow poems

Three Snow Poems
Emily Dickinson / Robert Frost / William Carlos Williams

[easyazon-image align=”left” asin=”0307268349″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51NTXNxuawL._SL160_.jpg” width=”112″]Poems found in

The Four Seasons: Poems
J.D. McClatchy, Editor
Hardback: Everyman’s Library, 2008
Buy now:  [ [easyazon-link asin=”0307268349″ locale=”us”]Amazon[/easyazon-link] ]
 

[ 15 Poetry Classics Available as FREE ebooks ]

 

It sifts from Leaden Sieves
Emily Dickinson

[ Found in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson ]

It sifts from Leaden Sieves –
It powders all the Wood –
It fills with Alabaster Wool
The Wrinkles of the Road.
Continue Reading…

 

Today is the 130th anniversary of the birth of poet William Carlos Williams…

In celebration here are three poems:

QUEEN-ANN’S-LACE
William Carlos Williams

[ [easyazon-link keywords=”William Carlos Williams” locale=”us”]Books by William Carlos Williams[/easyazon-link] ]
[ Our review of
Wendell Berry’s book: The Poetry of Wm. Carlos Williams of Rutherford ]

 
 
[easyazon-image align=”left” asin=”1619021536″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41DW9dL5HdL._SL160_.jpg” width=”107″ alt=”William Carlos Williams”]Her body is not so white as
anemony petals nor so smooth–nor
so remote a thing. It is a field
of the wild carrot taking
the field by force; the grass
does not raise above it.
Here is no question of whiteness,
white as can be, with a purple mole
at the center of each flower.
Each flower is a hand’s span
of her whiteness. Wherever
his hand has lain there is
a tiny purple blemish. Each part
is a blossom under his touch
to which the fibres of her being
stem one by one, each to its end,
until the whole field is a
white desire, empty, a single stem,
a cluster, flower by flower,
a pious wish to whiteness gone over–
or nothing.
Continue Reading…

 

William Carlos WilliamsWillow Poem
William Carlos Williams

It is a willow when summer is over,
a willow by the river
from which no leaf has fallen nor
bitten by the sun
turned orange or crimson.

Continue Reading…

 

“The Horse Show”
William Carlos Williams

Constantly near you, I never in my entire
sixty-four years knew you so well as yesterday
or half so well. We talked. you were never
so lucid, so disengaged from all exigencies
of place and time. We talked of ourselves,
intimately, a thing never heard between us.
How long have we waited? almost a hundred years.

Continue Reading…

 

THE WIDOW’S LAMENT IN SPRINGTIME

William Carlos Williams

Sorrow is my own yard
where the new grass
flames as it has flamed
often before but not
with the cold fire
that closes round me this year.
Thirtyfive years
I lived with my husband.
The plumtree is white today
with masses of flowers.
Masses of flowers
load the cherry branches
and color some bushes
yellow and some red
but the grief in my heart
is stronger than they
for though they were my joy
formerly, today I notice them
and turn away forgetting.
Today my son told me
that in the meadows,
at the edge of the heavy woods
in the distance, he saw
trees of white flowers.
I feel that I would like
to go there
and fall into those flowers
and sink into the marsh near them.

 

“What use is Poetry, Really?”

A Review of
The Poetry of William Carlos Williams of Rutherford

By Wendell Berry

Reviewed by David Johnson

William Carlos Williams - Wendell BerryThe Poetry of William Carlos Williams of Rutherford
By Wendell Berry
Hardback: Counterpoint, 2011.
Buy now: [ Amazon ]

Wendell Berry has written a thoughtful book-length meditation on the poetry of William Carlos Williams titled, appropriately, The Poetry of William Carlos Williams of Rutherford. But let us be honest with one another: with the United States fighting two wars while governments fall throughout North Africa and the Middle East, with the economy still in shambles and almost one in ten Americans out of work, and with the rising of the oceans and the temperature of the planet, what use is poetry, really? And what is there for us in a book by a farmer-poet from Kentucky about a doctor-poet from New Jersey? In a passage from his poem “Asphodel, That Greeny Flower,” Williams writes, “It is difficult / to get the news from poems / yet men die miserably every day / for lack / of what is found there.”  But what exactly can be found in poetry?

Continue Reading…

 

Contemporania

William Carlos Williams

The corner of a great rain
Steamy with the country
Has fallen upon my garden.

I go back and forth now
And the little leaves follow me
Talking of the great rain,
Of branches broken,
And the farmer’s curses!

But I go back and forth
In this corner of a garden
And the green shoots follow me
Praising the great rain.

We are not curst together,
The leaves and I,
Framing devices, flower devices
And other ways of peopling
The barren country.

Truly it was a very great rain
That makes the little leaves follow me.

Contemporania

The corner of a great rain
Steamy with the country
Has fallen upon my garden.

I go back and forth now
And the little leaves follow me
Talking of the great rain,
Of branches broken,
And the farmer’s curses!

But I go back and forth
In this corner of a garden
And the green shoots follow me
Praising the great rain.

We are not curst together,
The leaves and I,
Framing devices, flower devices
And other ways of peopling
The barren country.

Truly it was a very great rain
That makes the little leaves follow me.

 

The Fool’s Song
William Carlos Williams

( Found in
The Collected Poems of
William Carlos Williams, Vol. 1: 1909-1939
)

I tried to put a bird in a cage.
    O fool that I am!
  For the bird was Truth.
    Sing merrily, Truth: I tried to put
  Truth in a cage!

And when I had the bird in the cage,
    O fool that I am!
  Why, it broke my pretty cage.
    Sing merrily, Truth; I tried to put
  Truth in a cage!

And when the bird was flown from the cage,
    O fool that I am!
  Why, I had nor bird nor cage.
    Sing merrily, Truth: I tried to put
Truth in a cage!
  Heigh-ho! Truth in a cage.

 

The Great Figure

William Carlos Williams

[ Based on Charles Henry Demuth’s painting:
I saw the Figure Five in Gold ]

Among the rain
and lights
I saw the figure 5
in gold
on a red
fire truck
moving
tense
unheeded
to gong clangs
siren howls
and wheels rumbling
through the dark city