John Ashbery

Rookie (28 July 1927 / Rochester, New York)

John Ashbery Poems

1. The New Higher 6/2/2015
2. A Voice from the Fireplace 1/27/2016
3. A Worldly Country 5/21/2016
4. Alms for the Beekeeper 5/21/2016
5. And Ut Pictura Poesis Is Her Name 5/21/2016
6. Anticipated Stranger 5/21/2016
7. Blueprints and Others 5/21/2016
8. Boundary Issues 5/21/2016
9. Bunch of Stuff 5/21/2016
10. The Bungalows 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. El Dorado 5/21/2016
15. How to Continue 5/21/2016
16. Leave the Hand In 5/21/2016
17. Like a Sentence 5/21/2016
18. The Mauve Notebook 5/21/2016
19. Pyrography 5/21/2016
20. Rivers and Mountains 5/21/2016
21. Street Musicians 5/21/2016
22. These Lacustrine Cities 5/21/2016
23. This Room 5/21/2016
24. Uptick 5/21/2016
25. Vetiver 5/21/2016
26. Wet Casements 5/21/2016
27. Steel and Air 8/13/2016
28. Late-ish 5/21/2016
29. The Painter 5/21/2016
30. People Behaving Badly a Concern 5/21/2016
31. Mean Particles 5/21/2016
32. Last Month 5/21/2016
33. Late Echo 5/21/2016
34. My Erotic Double 5/21/2016
35. The Problem of Anxiety 10/1/2015
36. Meaningful Love 12/5/2015
37. Dramedy 5/21/2016
38. Hotel Lautréamont 2/10/2015
39. Wet Casements 11/21/2014
40. Soonest Mended 10/20/2015

Comments about John Ashbery

  • Adrian Grant (1/31/2018 6:51:00 AM)

    Wilfully obscure, rambling, unmusical, self-indulgent crap. No wonder he wrote so many collections.
    And no wonder he won so many prizes during the height of Modernism. This kind of stuff is catnip to literary critics and literature academics, because it would appear to require exegesis, thus promoting them into a kind of priesthood.

    2 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • 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.

  • 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


The man with the red hat
And the polar bear, is he here too?
The window giving on shade,
Is that here too?
And all the little helps,
My initials in the sky,
The hay of an arctic summer night?

The bear

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