Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"rainey" poems
Last nite I dreamed of T.S. Eliot welcoming me to the land of dream Sofas couches fog in England Tea in his digs Chelsea rainbows curtains on his windows, fog seeping in the chimney but a nice warm house and an incredibly sweet hooknosed Eliot he loved me, put me up, gave me a couch to sleep on, conversed kindly, took me serious asked my opinion on Mayakovsky I read him Corso Creeley Kerouac advised Burroughs Olson Huncke the bearded lady in the Zoo, the intelligent puma in Mexico City 6 chorus boys from Zanzibar who chanted in wornout polygot Swahili, and the rippling rythyms of Ma Rainey and Vachel Lindsay. On the Isle of the Queen we had a long evening's conversation Then he tucked me in my long red underwear under a silken blanket by the fire on the sofa gave me English Hottie and went off sadly to his bed, Saying ah Ginsberg I am glad to have met a fine young man like you. At last, I woke ashamed of myself. Is he that good and kind? Am I that great? What's my motive dreaming his manna? What English Department would that impress? What failure to be perfect prophet's made up here? I dream of my kindness to T.S. Eliot wanting to be a historical poet and share in his finance of Imagery- overambitious dream of eccentric boy. God forbid my evil dreams come true. Last nite I dreamed of Allen Ginsberg. T.S. Eliot would've been ashamed of me.
0
3.9k
Feb. 29, 1958
Chirping birds that fly and play Time change makes a longer day Green grass shoots and flowers bloom No more winters gloom and doom Squirrels and bees and buds on trees Sunny days with gentle breeze Smell the blooms and fresh cut grass Joy rushing in, its spring at last Carpenter bees fly around New growth covers the once cold ground Rainey days replenish the land The master’s creation, so beautiful, so grand Spring time evenings, tranquil and still Sunsets slowly over the hill Frogs and crickets sing a song The owl and whippoorwill sing along I lay my head down in my bed Spring time memories in my head I fold my hands and begin to pray I thank my God for another day © William Power (2011) All rights reserved
0
Jan 17, 2013
Jan 17, 2013 at 12:11 AM UTC
Memories of Spring
maybe i could feel you if i hadn't lost my heart (not courage, though, i've got that one) the kind that lets you start to find the sun on a rainey day before other eyes can see the heart that gave its life for you when it ran away from me i tried to keep it in my throat to sing you pretty songs but i swallowed it by accident my belly's full of wrongs. maybe it's for the best, my hoodlum of a heart i'm sure her space can be replaced with men and food and art. that's what my teachers tell me so it must be (is. what's. so?) i hope you don't run too fast, baby and that you don't have far to go.
0
Sep 3, 2011
Sep 3, 2011 at 7:04 PM UTC
don't have far to go
Yesterday the birds seemed rather peculiar. The morning was cool, damp, rainey. A chill went through the air. Holiday season is here. People are frantic. Shopping. Stressed. Malls packed. Mom losing her toddler. Heart stops, cops called. ALL due to her lack of concern and sick addiction of society pulling her in to the latest trend, best deal, better product. Is it really better? Or are you being brainwashed? Do you need it? You do zero research. You just believe the retailer. Ignore your child. Are you really better? Then the next person you judge? They are judging you. Be careful. Mom's in tears. People everywhere. Good people in the world. Child found. Heartbeats again. Life rethought. Retail therapy over. Therapy considered. Life goes on. Birds fly by.
0
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
12.12.2015
the butterfly blues is when you've got just a TOUCH of the blues no Ma Rainey or Muddy just a touch flitting about your favorite restaurant has shut down or your picnic got rained on that's the butterfly blues perhaps you're considering lighting up a forsworn cigarette or going on a shopping spree to escape the little weights clipping your wings just a TOUCH no Etta or Billie Holiday just the butterfly blues flitting about until... up pops a pretty flower to land on supplying you with answers to settle your unsettled mind and Presto! you'll soon notice those butterfly blues have been left far behind!
0
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
the butterfly blues
I love Rainey day's feels like all the sadness gets washed away.
0
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 5:00 PM UTC
random thought#9