John Ashbery

Rookie (28 July 1927 / Rochester, New York)

John Ashbery Poems

1. Meaningful Love 12/5/2015
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. Blueprints and Others 5/21/2016
7. Boundary Issues 5/21/2016
8. Bunch of Stuff 5/21/2016
9. The Bungalows 5/21/2016
10. By Guess and by Gosh 5/21/2016
11. Chinese Whispers 5/21/2016
12. Day Bump 5/21/2016
13. El Dorado 5/21/2016
14. How to Continue 5/21/2016
15. Late-ish 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. Mean Particles 5/21/2016
20. My Erotic Double 5/21/2016
21. People Behaving Badly a Concern 5/21/2016
22. Pyrography 5/21/2016
23. Street Musicians 5/21/2016
24. These Lacustrine Cities 5/21/2016
25. This Room 5/21/2016
26. Uptick 5/21/2016
27. Vetiver 5/21/2016
28. Wet Casements 5/21/2016
29. Steel and Air 8/13/2016
30. Rivers and Mountains 5/21/2016
31. Late Echo 5/21/2016
32. The New Higher 6/2/2015
33. The Problem of Anxiety 10/1/2015
34. Anticipated Stranger 5/21/2016
35. Last Month 5/21/2016
36. The Painter 5/21/2016
37. The Dong With The Luminous Nose 2/2/2015
38. Dramedy 5/21/2016
39. Soonest Mended 10/20/2015
40. Wet Casements 11/21/2014

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.

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  • 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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