Biography of Gary Snyder
Gary Snyder Poems
Hay For The Horses
He had driven half the night From far down San Joaquin Through Mariposa, up the Dangerous Mountain roads,
Four Poems For Robin
Siwashing It Out Once in Suislaw Forest I slept under rhododendron All nightblossoms fell
There Are Those Who Love To Get Dirty
There are those who love to get dirty and fix things. They drink coffee at dawn, beer after work,
Lay down these words Before your mind like rocks. placed solid, by hands In coice of place, set
December At Yase
You said, that October, In the tall dry grass by the orchard When you chose to be free, "Again someday, maybe ten years."
For Lew Welch In A Snowfall
Snowfall in March: I sit in the white glow reading a thesis About you. Your poems, your life.
Lew Welch just turned up one day, live as you and me. "Damn, Lew" I said, "you didn't shoot yourself after all." "Yes I did" he said,
They didn't hire him so he ate his lunch alone: the noon whistle
How Poetry Comes To Me
It comes blundering over the Boulders at night, it stays Frightened outside the
Milton by Firelight
"O hell, what do mine eyes with grief behold?" Working with an old Singlejack miner, who can sense
Endless Streams and Mountains
Ch'i Shan Wu Chin Clearing the mind and sliding in to that created space, a web of waters steaming over rocks,
Beneath My Hand And Eye The Distant Hil...
What my hand follows on your body Is the line. A stream of love of heat, of light, what my eye lascivious
Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout
Down valley a smoke haze Three days heat, after five days rain Pitch glows on the fir-cones Across rocks and meadows
How intelligent he looks! on his back both feet caught in my one hand
Lew Welch just turned up one day,
live as you and me. "Damn, Lew" I said,
"you didn't shoot yourself after all."
"Yes I did" he said,
and even then I felt the tingling down my back.
"Yes you did, too" I said—"I can feel it now."
"Yeah" he said,
"There's a basic fear between your world and
mine. I don't know why.