Anthony Weir

Rookie (13th September 1941)

Anthony Weir Poems

121. All Souls Day, Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val 11/2/2006
122. Hortus Deliciarum 5/18/2006
123. Illusions In Three Parts (Haiku Sequence) Ii 5/8/2006
124. Sidelongings - Belfast 1969 5/5/2006
125. The Inventor Of Slavery 4/28/2006
126. Xanadu 11/4/2006
127. The Welsh Word For 'England' Is 'Land That We Lost' 5/6/2006
128. After The Sinking (Portrait Of Padraic Fiacc) 5/5/2006
129. The Empty House 5/5/2006
130. Funny Love Song 6/12/2006
131. 'Who Gathers Knowledge, Gathers Pain' 6/5/2006
132. The Secret Society Of Suicides 5/31/2006
133. On Reading A Commentary On The Vision Of The Prophet Daniel 5/25/2006
134. Hortus Maleficiarum 5/7/2006
135. Consumer 5/7/2006
136. Shade More Than Man 4/19/2006
137. It Is Very Difficult To Find The Real Thing 5/6/2006
138. Sonnet Inspired By The Last Words Of Rilke's 8th Elegy 5/7/2006
139. Poem Dedicated To The Vast Transnational Medico-Pharmaceutical Industry 5/13/2006
140. 'Seul Le Silence Est Grand: Tout Le Reste Est Faiblesse.' 6/8/2006
141. In The Dead Zone 5/7/2006
142. 'When You Are Very Old...' 8/25/2006
143. Confession Of A Failed Abortion 5/6/2006
144. Deviants 8/8/2006
145. Poetry Reading 5/15/2006
146. Duendes - Self-Realization At The Age Of Sixty-One 6/1/2006
147. Just Another Rape 5/26/2006
148. A Voice From The Mirror 5/7/2006
149. A La Recherche De Paul Verlaine 4/9/2006
150. Gloss On The Ninth Elegy Of Rainer-Maria Rilke 5/8/2006
151. 'Blood Is The Belly Of Logic' - In Memoriam Ted Hughes 5/10/2006
152. Fishermen 4/30/2006
153. Anti-Poem 4/25/2006
154. Erech/Uruk - Iraq 4/23/2006
155. Challenging Emily Dickinson 4/22/2006
156. Two Very Short Poems 4/28/2006
157. Six Very Short Poems 4/27/2006
158. The Motto Of Capitalism: Enough Is Not Enough 5/6/2006
159. A Dublin Poem 4/18/2006
160. Big Bang 5/9/2006
Best Poem of Anthony Weir

'The Scent Of These Armpits Is An Aroma Finer Than Prayer' (Walt Whitman)

I dreamed.
I woke in tenderness.
I dreamed of tenderness
as a ripe plum squirting
down my beard – tenderness
that turned to tide
which flowed through both of us
and in which we floated
through our cuddle-space
wherein our snug adhesion
the unseen ballet of our tongues
the breath shared by each other's lungs
were part of an epiphanic lace
of delicate and gorgeous things
that we in sacred, shared
humility presented to each other
as sweet kings –
and the smiling
exuberantly-bearded sun
was his
life-giving face.

Read the full of 'The Scent Of These Armpits Is An Aroma Finer Than Prayer' (Walt Whitman)

Consumer

I went out to buy contentment
and came home with bulls' testicles.
I went out to buy transcendence
and came back with a mobile phone.

The vileness of money
is that it turns stupidity of desire
into virtue.

I listen to time coughing and watch
the wolf in the Institute being
flayed to the bone.

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