Zenith
These griefs
These gardens on and on
Where the toad croons a tender cry skyblue
The hind of silence startled races by
The nightingale that love has bruised sings in
Your body's bush on which I've picked each rose
Our hearts hang from the same pomegranate bough
And in our gaze pomegranate blossoms blow
That falling one by one have strewn the road
Translator: Harry Duncan
Seems wrong to call cat ladies crazy;
It's the perfect pet for the lazy.
Put out some food, water, and a box,
And sit back and be crazy like a fox.
Still will I harvest beauty where it grows:
In coloured fungus and the spotted fog
Surprised on foods forgotten; in ditch and bog
Filmed brilliant with irregular rainbows
Of rust and oil, where half a city throws
Its empty tins; and in some spongy log
Whence headlong leaps the oozy emerald frog...
And a black pupil in the green scum shows.
Her the inhabiter of divers places
Surmising at all doors, I push them all.
Oh, you that fearful of a creaking hinge
Turn back forevermore with craven faces,
I tell you Beauty bears an ultra fringe
Unguessed of you upon her gossamer shawl!
The mighty, mighty elephant
Isn't known for being elegant,
But you can't disbar him from your soiree,
And expect he'll show on moving day.
Never punch a Buffalo!
They may seem dim and kind of slow,
But they hold a grudge to the last,
And - besides - you're not exactly fast!
The zebra's form of camouflage
Only works with an entourage.
The Savanna isn't black and white,
But with herds it's hard to see where to bite.
The Poets light but Lamps --
Themselves -- go out --
The Wicks they stimulate
If vital Light
Inhere as do the Suns --
Each Age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference --
There are few things so useless that
They're as useless as a Giraffe’s hat.
I guess that’s why you never see
One in a bowler, fez, or beanie.
A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast.
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies?
A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
Being so caught up,
So mastered by the brute blood of the air,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?
rain-laden blossom
falls… lands with a sound,
in the mud.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 