SMELL POEMS
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Interim
The room is full of you!-As I came in
And closed the door behind me, all at once
A something in the air, intangible,
Yet stiff with meaning, struck my senses sick!-
.....
Edna St. Vincent Millay
War With Myself
"No, please, stop, I don't want to go over this again", but it said
"just one more, it wouldn't strain a muscle. It's not the first time remember?"
How sad i gave into desires, known to my soul as unclean
Raped by my urges. Lonliness, shame, disgust, worthlessness are what I know.
.....
Comano
Inland
People that build their houses inland,
People that buy a plot of ground
Shaped like a house, and build a house there,
Far from the sea-board, far from the sound
.....
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Anchor Song
Heh! Walk her round. Heave, ah, heave her short again!
Over, snatch her over, there, and hold her on the pawl.
Loose all sail, and brace your yards aback and full-
Ready jib to pay her off and heave short all!
.....
Rudyard Kipling
Your Sun
I'd be the sun in your moon,
A fire burning in your skies.
Layers of white and orange tune
In petals of flowers yet to bloom.
.....
Az Mo
The Other
The forest ended. Glad I was
To feel the light, and hear the hum
Of bees, and smell the drying grass
And the sweet mint, because I had come
.....
Edward Thomas
Venus And Adonis
Even as the sun with purple-coloured face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheeked Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scorn.
.....
William Shakespeare
Not Perfect
I'm not full of answers
Nor full of questions
I sense what my heart follows
Maybe I take suggestions
.....
Az Mo
In All Ways A Woman
In my young years I took pride in the fact that luck was called a lady. In fact, there were so few public acknowledgments of the female presence that I felt personally honored whenever nature and large ships were referred to as feminine. But as I matured, I began to resent being considered a sister to a changeling as fickle as luck, as aloof as an ocean, and as frivolous as nature. The phrase 'A woman always has the right to change her mind' played so aptly into the negative image of the female that I made myself a victim to an unwavering decision. Even if I made an inane and stupid choice, I stuck by it rather than 'be like a woman and change my mind.'
Being a woman is hard work. Not without joy and even ecstasy, but still relentless, unending work. Becoming an old female may require only being born with certain genitalia, inheriting long-living genes and the fortune not to be run over by an out-of-control truck, but to become and remain a woman command the existence and employment of genius.
.....
Maya Angelou
May Day
A delicate fabric of bird song
Floats in the air,
The smell of wet wild earth
Is everywhere.
.....
Sara Teasdale
Satire I
Away thou fondling motley humorist,
Leave mee, and in this standing woodden chest,
Consorted with these few bookes, let me lye
In prison, and here be coffin'd, when I dye;
.....
John Donne
The Old Playhouse
You planned to tame a swallow, to hold her
In the long summer of your love so that she would forget
Not the raw seasons alone, and the homes left behind, but
Also her nature, the urge to fly, and the endless
.....
Kamala Das
In Praise Of Limestone
If it form the one landscape that we, the inconstant ones,
Are consistently homesick for, this is chiefly
Because it dissolves in water. Mark these rounded slopes
With their surface fragrance of thyme and, beneath,
.....
W. H. Auden
Preludes
I
The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways.
.....
T. S. Eliot
The Pieman
I'd like to be a pieman, and ring a little bell,
Calling out, 'Hot pies! Hot pies to sell!'
Apple-pies and Meat-pies, Cherry-pies as well,
Lots and lots and lots of pies - more than you can tell.
.....
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
The Flute
It was a night of smell and dew
When very old things seemed how new;
When speech was softest in the still
Air that loitered down the hill;
.....
John Freeman
The Flute
It was a night of smell and dew
When very old things seemed how new;
When speech was softest in the still
Air that loitered down the hill;
.....
John Frederick Freeman
Smells
WHY is it that the poet tells
So little of the sense of smell?
These are the odors I love well:
.....
Christopher Morley
Bridal Song
Roses, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
.....
William Shakespeare
To Think Of Time
To think of time, of all that retrospection!
To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward!
Have you guess'd you yourself would not continue?
.....
Walt Whitman
Telling The Bees
Here is the place; right over the hill
Runs the path I took;
You can see the gap in the old wall still,
And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook.
.....
John Greenleaf Whittier
Strayed Crab
This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must
be over that way somewhere.
I am the color of wine, of tinta. The inside of my powerful
right claw is saffron-yellow. See, I see it now; I wave it like a
.....
Elizabeth Bishop
Irreplaceable
Shall I compare you my friend
With a flower:
You would smell better than a rose
From you, one drop of honey
.....
Fahad Herculean
An Octopus
of ice. Deceptively reserved and flat,
it lies “in grandeur and in mass”
beneath a sea of shifting snow-dunes;
dots of cyclamen-red and maroon on its clearly defined
.....
Marianne Moore
Out Of The East
When man first walked upright and soberly
Reflecting as he paced to and fro,
And no more swinging from wide tree to tree,
Or sheltered by vast boles from sheltered foe,
.....
John Freeman
Gift
This is mint and here are three pinks
I have brought you, Mother.
They are wet with rain
And shining with it.
.....
Hilda Conkling
Soul
My mournful soul, you, sorrowing
For all my friends around,
You have become the burial vault
Of all those hounded down.
.....
Boris Pasternak
In A Garden
Gushing from the mouths of stone men
To spread at ease under the sky
In granite-lipped basins,
Where iris dabble their feet
.....
Amy Lowell