When from the vaulted wonder of the sky
The curtain of the light is drawn aside,
And I behold the stars in all their wide
Significance and glorious mystery,
Assured that those more distant orbs are suns
Round which innumerable worlds revolve,—
My... – by Henry Abbey | 16 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
When might made right in days of chivalry,
Hatot and Ringsdale, over claims of land,
Darkened their lives with stormy enmity,
And for their cause agreed this test to stand:
To fight steel-clad till either's blood made wet
The soil disputed; and a... – by Henry Abbey | 5 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
Moons on moons ago,
In the sleep, or night, of the moon,
When evil spirits have power,
The monster, Ontiora,
Came down in the dreadful gloom.
The monster came stalking abroad,
On his way to the sea for a bath,
For a bath in the salt, gray... – by Henry Abbey | 3 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
WHITE wings of commerce sailing far,
Hot steam that drives the weltering wheel,
Tamed lightning speeding on the wire,
Iron postman on the way of steel,—
These, circling all the world, have told
The loss that makes us desolate;
For we give back to... – by Henry Abbey | 3 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
When the wrongs of peace grow mighty,
They beget the wrong of war,
Whose wild night, with deeds immortal,
Sparkles brightly, star on... – by Henry Abbey | 8 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
All bold, great actions that are seen too near,
Look rash and foolish to unthinking eyes;
But at a distance they at once appear
In their true grandeur: so let us be wise,
And not too soon our neighbor's deed malign,
Lest what seems crude should... – by Henry Abbey | 13 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
O white, white, light moon, that sailest in the sky,
Look down upon the whirling world, for thou art up so high,
And tell me where my Donald is who sailed across the sea,
And make a path of silver light to lead him back to me.
O white, white, bright... – by Henry Abbey | 2 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
All night I cried in agony
Of grief and bitter loss,
And wept for Him whom they had nailed
Against the shameful... – by Henry Abbey | 39 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
Along the cliff I walk in silence,
While over the blue of the waves below,
The white birds gleam in the sun like silver
And ships in the offing come and go,
And the tide is... – by Henry Abbey | 5 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
Drecker, a drawbridge keeper, opened wide
The dangerous gate to let the vessel through;
His little son was standing by his side,
Above Passaic River deep and blue,
While in the distance, like a moan of pain,
Was heard the whistle of the coming... – by Henry Abbey | 19 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
When all the sky was wild and dark,
When every heart was wrung with fear,
He rose serene, and took his place,
The great occasion's mighty peer.
He smote armed opposition down,
He bade the storm and darkness cease,
And o'er the long-distracted land... – by Henry Abbey | 4 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
How mild and fair the day, dear love! and in these garden ways
The lingering dahlias to the sun their hopeless faces raise.
The buckwheat and the barley, once so bonny and so blithe,
Fall before the rhythmic labor of the cradler's gleaming... – by Henry Abbey | 8 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
What do we plant when we plant the tree?
We plant the ship, which will cross the sea.
We plant the mast to carry the sails;
We plant the planks to withstand the gales -
The keel, the keelson, the beam, the knee;
We plant the ship when we plant the... – by Henry Abbey | 208 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
We journey up the storied Nile;
The timeless water seems to smile;
The slow and swarthy boatman sings;
The dahabëah spreads her wings;
We catch the breeze and sail away,
Along the dawning of the day,
Along the East, wherein the morn
Of life and... – by Henry Abbey | 21 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
Twenty-five hundred tins of tuna,
no can opener.
Powdered milk that loosened unfamiliar
stomachs speeding death.
Three thousand Bibles dropped into
Mujahudden children.
One thousand blankets and sweaters,
sent to tropical hot... – by Chris Abani | 196 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
The telephone never rings. Still
you pick it up, smile into the static,
the breath of those you’ve loved; long dead.
The leaf you pick from the fall
rises and dips away with every ridge.
Fingers stiff from time, you... – by Chris Abani | 35 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
The body is a nation I have not known.
The pure joy of air: the moment between leaping
from a cliff into the wall of blue below. Like that.
Or to feel the rub of tired lungs against skin-
covered bone, like a hand against the rough of bark.
Like... – by Chris Abani | 7 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
mother put down her knife and fork,
pulled her wedding ring from its groove,
placing it contemplatively on her middle
finger. So natural was the move,
so tender, I almost didn’t notice.
Five years, she said, five years, once a week,
I wrote a... – by Chris Abani | 11 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
There are stones even here
worn into a malevolence by time
gritting the teeth and tearing
the eyes with the... – by Chris Abani | 24 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
Metal giraffes march up the bluff
toward the lighthouse. In the moonlight,
whales, or their ghosts, litter the sand.
There is a museum by the park that houses
apartheid; contained in stiff wax... – by Chris Abani | 19 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
It’s like flying in your dreams, she said. You empty
Yourself out and just lift off. Soar. It’s like that.
*
Red. Red. Red.
Just that word.... – by Chris Abani | 24 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
It was the hornbill that spoke it.
In the nothing, becoming nothing,
begetting nothing; this is everything.
The world is old, the world is new
How does the darkness hide?
In the nothing, becoming nothing,
begetting nothing; this is... – by Chris Abani | 9 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
I
Africans in the hold fold themselves
to make room for hope. In the afternoon’s
ferocity, tar, grouting the planks like the glue
of family, melts to the run of a child’s licorice... – by Chris Abani | 41 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
My language is dying the same way
my father did:
Alone. Night. And there are no storms. Only
moonlight straining through holes in a tin roof
And the slight exhalation,... – by Chris Abani | 30 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
I woke up to your knocking,
convinced someone was patrolling the corridor,
hammering the doors.
The heat was intense, and I wished it would rain.
Your name came to me,
and I thought about all I'd once known about you
but forgot, and once again I... – by Jonathan Aaron | 18 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
I dreamed it was November 1930
Walking east on the Boulevard St-Germain
toward the Odeon, just past the rue Kelver
(a cross street that in fact never existed),
in the midst of people hurrying (it was cold
and getting late), I saw a woman crouched... – by Jonathan Aaron | 14 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
Blondin made a fortune walking back and forth
over Niagara Falls on a tightrope—blindfolded,
or inside a sack, or pushing a wheelbarrow, or perched on stilts,
or lugging a man on his back. Once, halfway across,
he sat down to cook and eat an... – by Jonathan Aaron | 7 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
Break
two eggs
into a large bowl,
preferably a blue one.
Look down and see
them staring back at you,
their innocent embrace affirming
what must happen.
Now add salt (kosher salt is best,
being... – by Jonathan Aaron | 16 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
“I never told you I was anything but what I am,” she says.
Black and white, the sunset behind Lake Tahoe looks spectacular.
She turns and goes upstairs, his chance to light a cigarette
and dial the operator. She slips the pistol into her briefcase,... – by Jonathan Aaron | 7 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
When I got to the party and saw everybody
walking around in Christmas costumes,
I remembered I was supposed to be wearing one, too.
Bending slightly, I held out my hands
and waved them a little, wiggling my fingers.
I narrowed my eyes and pursed my... – by Jonathan Aaron | 5 Views added 3 years ago
| Rating
|
