John Ashbery

Rookie (28 July 1927 / Rochester, New York)

John Ashbery Poems

1. Meaningful Love 12/5/2015
2. A Voice from the Fireplace 1/27/2016
3. A Worldly Country 5/21/2016
4. Alms for the Beekeeper 5/21/2016
5. And Ut Pictura Poesis Is Her Name 5/21/2016
6. Anticipated Stranger 5/21/2016
7. Blueprints and Others 5/21/2016
8. Boundary Issues 5/21/2016
9. Bunch of Stuff 5/21/2016
10. The Bungalows 5/21/2016
11. By Guess and by Gosh 5/21/2016
12. Chinese Whispers 5/21/2016
13. Day Bump 5/21/2016
14. Dramedy 5/21/2016
15. El Dorado 5/21/2016
16. How to Continue 5/21/2016
17. Last Month 5/21/2016
18. Late Echo 5/21/2016
19. Late-ish 5/21/2016
20. Leave the Hand In 5/21/2016
21. Like a Sentence 5/21/2016
22. The Mauve Notebook 5/21/2016
23. Mean Particles 5/21/2016
24. My Erotic Double 5/21/2016
25. The Painter 5/21/2016
26. People Behaving Badly a Concern 5/21/2016
27. Pyrography 5/21/2016
28. Rivers and Mountains 5/21/2016
29. Street Musicians 5/21/2016
30. These Lacustrine Cities 5/21/2016
31. This Room 5/21/2016
32. Uptick 5/21/2016
33. Vetiver 5/21/2016
34. Wet Casements 5/21/2016
35. Steel and Air 8/13/2016
36. The New Higher 6/2/2015
37. The Problem of Anxiety 10/1/2015
38. Hotel Lautréamont 2/10/2015
39. The Dong With The Luminous Nose 2/2/2015
40. Soonest Mended 10/20/2015
Best Poem of John Ashbery

Self-Portrait In A Convex Mirror

As Parmigianino did it, the right hand
Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer
And swerving easily away, as though to protect
What it advertises. A few leaded panes, old beams,
Fur, pleated muslin, a coral ring run together
In a movement supporting the face, which swims
Toward and away like the hand
Except that it is in repose. It is what is
Sequestered. Vasari says, "Francesco one day set himself
To take his own portrait, looking at himself from that purpose
In a convex mirror, such as is used by barbers . . .
He accordingly caused a ball of wood to be ...

Read the full of Self-Portrait In A Convex Mirror

Steel and Air

And now I cannot remember how I would
have had it. It is not a conduit (confluence?) but a place.
The place, of movement and an order.
The place of old order.
But the tail end of the movement is new.
Driving us to say what we are thinking.
It is so much like a beach after all, where you stand
and think of going no further.
And it is good when you get to no further.

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