Frank O'Hara

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

Frank O'Hara Poems

41. Lines For The Fortune Cookies 1/13/2003
42. Autobiographia Literaria 1/13/2003
43. A Quiet Poem 1/13/2003
44. Meditations In An Emergency 1/13/2003
45. A Step Away From Them 1/13/2003
46. For Grace, After A Party 1/13/2003
47. A True Account Of Talking To The Sun On Fire Island 1/20/2003
48. In Memory Of My Feelings 1/20/2003
49. Homosexuality 1/13/2003
50. Music 1/13/2003
51. Morning 1/13/2003
52. Why I Am Not A Painter 1/13/2003

Comments about Frank O'Hara

  • Henry (9/16/2018 11:25:00 AM)

    Is there a poem called Blocks: by O'Hara. If there is I can't find it.

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  • Emma Poet (4/27/2015 12:13:00 PM)

    No, he is not alive. He died at forty, but he is awake, in his poetry. He cannot write you your poems, his body is sleeping, yet not, in his poetry. There he is dancing. That is all.

  • Michael Shepherd (3/17/2005 5:44:00 AM)

    Dear Frank O'Hara,
    Are you alive?
    I've read your poems and know that you are.
    But are you available in person?
    I'd like to ask for more poems..
    that's all.

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

At Joan's

It is almost three
I sit at the marble top
sorting poems, miserable
the little lamp glows feebly
I don't glow at all

I have another cognac
and stare at two little paintings
of Jean-Paul's, so great

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