John Ashbery

Rookie (28 July 1927 / Rochester, New York)

John Ashbery Poems

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

Comments about John Ashbery

  • Lawrence Beck Lawrence Beck (11/25/2016 6:19:00 PM)

    This man's work is garbage. He's obviously extremely lazy, and why not? Every dumb-ass critic in the country has decided that he's the greatest. Gee, I wonder why nobody reads poetry.

    3 person liked.
    10 person did not like.
  • Raymond Farrell (12/19/2015 1:18:00 AM)

    The atuff that has been posted on PH is readable although it is debateable what it means, but most of Ashbery's stuff makes me wonder if he isn't a mental case in search of a diagnosis.

  • Sharon Parker (10/25/2014 4:04:00 PM)

    Mr. Ashbery forces the reader to change too many horses in the middle of an unending stream on order to get to the other side only to find it was the sound of the river that was the attraction rather than the substance of the opposite shore

  • Gk Thomas (11/17/2012 4:12:00 PM)

    These are the readable poems, but most of Ashberry isn't readable.
    I'm sorry, but if a poem can only be understood by the poet's explication then he needs to supply that explication along with the poem. Otherwise he/she is merely playing the effete. And who of us would not be considered a poetic genius if we, and we alone, are the sole authority of that meaning? Lazarus rose from the fire of the salad bowl/ consumed exquisite Orpheus/ to the knight's maiden ravished knot of hope. Who wrote this passage from a terribly long poem? A poetic genius or a hoaxer? Careful you might guess wrong.

  • Gilles Goyette (1/14/2012 8:09:00 AM)

    You change the way I read. You change my expectations of language. Always a challenge, but completely worth the effort.

  • p.a. noushad p.a. noushad (10/24/2008 3:23:00 AM)

    beautiful your nerration is.

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


Orpheus liked the glad personal quality
Of the things beneath the sky. Of course, Eurydice was a part
Of this. Then one day, everything changed. He rends
Rocks into fissures with lament. Gullies, hummocks
Can't withstand it. The sky shudders from one horizon
To the other, almost ready to give up wholeness.
Then Apollo quietly told him: "Leave it all on earth.
Your lute, what point? Why pick at a dull pavan few care to
Follow, except a few birds of dusty feather,

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