Jane Kenyon

(1947-1995 / United States)

Jane Kenyon Poems

1. Afternoon at MacDowell 4/24/2015
2. Man Eating 5/29/2015
3. The Argument 5/23/2014
4. Trouble with Math in a One-Room Country School 12/4/2015
5. Coats 7/6/2015
6. No Steps 5/23/2014
7. Thinking Of Madame Bovary 5/23/2014
8. Heavy Summer Rain 5/23/2014
9. Gettysburg: July 1, 1863 5/23/2014
10. Alone For A Week 5/23/2014
11. The Clearing 5/23/2014
12. Not Writing 4/21/2010
13. Private Beach 4/21/2010
14. Not Here 4/21/2010
15. The Pond At Dusk 4/21/2010
16. Sun And Moon 4/21/2010
17. Three Songs At The End Of Summer 4/21/2010
18. Portrait Of A Figure Near Water 4/21/2010
19. The Shirt 4/21/2010
20. Christmas Away From Home 4/21/2010
21. What Came To Me 3/7/2015
22. Dutch Interiors 1/20/2003
23. Taking Down The Tree 4/21/2010
24. Twilight: After Haying 1/20/2003
25. February: Thinking Of Flowers 1/20/2003
26. Biscuit 1/13/2003
27. Finding A Long Gray Hair 1/13/2003
28. Wash 1/13/2003
29. Notes From The Other Side 1/20/2003
30. The Blue Bowl 1/13/2003
31. Happiness 1/20/2003
32. The Suitor 1/20/2003
33. Briefly It Enters, And Briefly Speaks 1/20/2003
34. Otherwise 1/13/2003
35. Let Evening Come 1/20/2003
36. Having It Out With Melancholy 1/20/2003
Best Poem of Jane Kenyon

Having It Out With Melancholy

1FROM THE NURSERY


When I was born, you waited
behind a pile of linen in the nursery,
and when we were alone, you lay down
on top of me, pressing
the bile of desolation into every pore.


And from that day on
everything under the sun and moon
made me sad -- even the yellow
wooden beads that slid and spun
along a spindle on my crib.


You taught me to exist without gratitude.
You ruined my manners toward God:
"We're here simply to wait for death;
the pleasures of earth are overrated."


I only appeared to ...

Read the full of Having It Out With Melancholy

Dutch Interiors

Christ has been done to death
in the cold reaches of northern Europe
a thousand thousand times.
Suddenly bread
and cheese appear on a plate
beside a gleaming pewter beaker of beer.

Now tell me that the Holy Ghost
does not reside in the play of light

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