Theodore Roethke

(1908 - 1963 / Michigan / United States)

Theodore Roethke Poems

1. Big Wind 3/30/2010
2. Child On Top Of A Greenhouse 1/3/2003
3. Cuttings (Later) 1/3/2003
4. Dolor 1/3/2003
5. Elegy For Jane 1/3/2003
6. Epidermal Macabre 1/3/2003
7. I Knew A Woman 1/3/2003
8. In A Dark Time 1/3/2003
9. Infirmity 3/30/2010
10. Journey Into The Interior 1/3/2003
11. My Papa's Waltz 1/3/2003
12. Night Journey 1/3/2003
13. Once More, The Round 1/3/2003
14. Open House 3/30/2010
15. Pickle Belt 1/3/2003
16. Root Cellar 3/30/2010
17. Selections From I Am! Said The Lamb 1/20/2003
18. She 1/3/2003
19. Snake 1/3/2003
20. The Bat 1/3/2003
21. The Far Field 1/3/2003
22. The Geranium 1/3/2003
23. The Meadow Mouse 1/3/2003
24. The Minimal 1/13/2003
25. The Pike 6/24/2015
26. The Reckoning 1/3/2003
27. The Right Thing 3/30/2010
28. The Saginaw Song 3/30/2010
29. The Shape Of The Fire 3/30/2010
30. The Sloth 1/3/2003
31. The Storm 1/13/2003
32. The Visitant 3/30/2010
33. The Voice 3/30/2010
34. The Waking (1948) 1/20/2003
35. The Waking (1953) 1/20/2003
36. Various Quotes From On Poetry And Craft: Selected Prose Of Theodore Roethke 1/20/2003
Best Poem of Theodore Roethke

My Papa's Waltz

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

Read the full of My Papa's Waltz

She

I think the dead are tender. Shall we kiss? --
My lady laughs, delighting in what is.
If she but sighs, a bird puts out its tongue.
She makes space lonely with a lovely song.
She lilts a low soft language, and I hear
Down long sea-chambers of the inner ear.

We sing together; we sing mouth to mouth.
The garden is a river flowing south.

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