Frank O'Hara

(27 March 1926 – 25 July 1966 / Baltimore, Maryland)

Frank O'Hara Poems

1. 1951 1/13/2003
2. A City Winter 1/13/2003
3. A Quiet Poem 1/13/2003
4. A Step Away From Them 1/13/2003
5. A True Account Of Talking To The Sun On Fire Island 1/20/2003
6. Adieu to Norman, Bon Jour to Joan and Jean-Paul 6/24/2017
7. Animals 3/29/2012
8. Ann Arbor Variations 1/13/2003
9. As Planned 1/13/2003
10. At Joan's 1/13/2003
11. At Night Chinamen Jump 1/13/2003
12. Autobiographia Literaria 1/13/2003
13. Ave Maria 1/13/2003
14. Call Me 1/13/2003
15. Chez Jane 6/24/2017
16. Chinamen Jump 1/13/2003
17. Digression On Number 1, 1948 1/13/2003
18. Five Poems 1/23/2015
19. For Grace, After A Party 1/13/2003
20. Having A Coke With You 3/27/2015
21. Homosexuality 1/13/2003
22. In Memory Of My Feelings 1/20/2003
23. Jane Awake 1/13/2003
24. Lines For The Fortune Cookies 1/13/2003
25. Mayakovsky 3/29/2012
26. Meditations In An Emergency 1/13/2003
27. Melancholy Breakfast 1/13/2003
28. Morning 1/13/2003
29. Music 1/13/2003
30. My Heart 1/13/2003
31. On Seeing Larry Rivers' Washington Crossing The Delaware At The Museum Of Modern Art 1/13/2003
32. Personal Poem 3/29/2012
33. Poem (At night Chinamen jump) 6/24/2017
34. Poem (Hate Is Only One Of Many Responses) 1/13/2003
35. Poem (Lana Turner Has Collapsed!) 1/13/2003
36. Poem ["Khrushchev is coming on the right day!"] 6/24/2017
37. Poem ["The eager note on my door said, ‘Call me,'"] 6/24/2017
38. POEM EN FORME DE SAW 11/16/2016
39. Rhapsody 3/29/2012
40. Sleeping On The Wing 3/29/2012
Best Poem of Frank O'Hara

Why I Am Not A Painter

I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,

for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
"Sit down and have a drink" he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. "You have SARDINES in it."
"Yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. "Where's SARDINES?"
All that's left is just
letters, "It was too much," Mike says.

But me? One day I am thinking ...

Read the full of Why I Am Not A Painter


How funny you are today New York
like Ginger Rogers in Swingtime
and St. Bridget's steeple leaning a little to the left

here I have just jumped out of a bed full of V-days
(I got tired of D-days) and blue you there still
accepts me foolish and free
all I want is a room up there
and you in it

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