John Berryman

(25 October 1914 - 7 January 1972 / McAlester, Oklahoma)

John Berryman Poems

If you see a poem only with title, it is listed that way because of copyright reasons.
41. Dream Song 61: Full Moon. Our Narragansett Gales Subside 1/13/2003
42. Dream Song 68: I Heard, Could Be, A Hey There From The Wing 1/13/2003
43. Dream Song 58: Industrious, Affable, Having Brain On Fire 1/13/2003
44. Dream Song 98: I Met A Junior--Not So Junior--And 1/13/2003
45. Dream Song 54: 'No Visitors' I Thumb The Roller To 1/13/2003
46. Dream Song 122: He Published His Girl's Bottom In Staid Pages 1/13/2003
47. Dream Song 128: A Hemorrhage Of His Left Ear Of Good Friday 1/13/2003
48. Dream Song 52: Silent Song 1/13/2003
49. Dream Song 123: Daples My Floor The Eastern Sun, My House Faces North 1/13/2003
50. Dream Song 42: O Journeyer, Deaf In The Mould, Insane 1/13/2003
51. Dream Song 56: Hell Is Empty. O That Has Come To Pass 1/13/2003
52. Dream Song 119: Fresh-Shaven, Past Months & A Picture In New York 1/1/2004
53. Dream Song 57: In A State Of Chortle Sin--Once He Reflected 1/13/2003
54. Dream Song 172 1/3/2003
55. Dream Song 134: Sick At 6 & Sick Again At 9 1/1/2004
56. Dream Song 9: Deprived Of His Enemy, Shrugged To A Standstill 1/13/2003
57. Filling Her Compact & Delicious Body 1/3/2003
58. Dream Song 134: Sick At 6 &Amp; Sick Again At 9 1/13/2003
59. Dream Song 92: Room 231: The Fourth Week 1/13/2003
60. Dream Song 136: While His Wife Earned The Living, Rabbi Henry 1/13/2003
61. Dream Song 324: An Elegy For W.C.W., The Lovely Man 1/13/2003
62. Dream Song 50: In A Motion Of Night They Massed Nearer My Post 1/13/2003
63. Dream Song 8: The Weather Was Fine. They Took Away His Teeth 1/13/2003
64. Dream Song 32: And Where, Friend Quo, Lay You Hiding 1/13/2003
65. Dream Song 132: A Small Dream 1/13/2003
66. Dream Song 130: When I Saw My Friend Covered With Blood, I Thought 1/13/2003
67. Dream Song 39: Goodbye, Sir, &Amp; Fare Well. You'Re In The Clear 1/13/2003
68. Dream Song 7: 'The Prisoner Of Shark Island' With Paul Muni 1/13/2003
69. Dream Song 96: Under The Table, No. That Last Was Stunning 1/13/2003
70. Dream Song 125: Bards Freezing, Naked, Up To The Neck In Water 1/13/2003
71. Dream Song 73: Karensui, Ryoan-Ji 1/13/2003
72. Dream Song 97: Henry Of Donnybrook Bred Like A Pig 1/13/2003
73. Dream Song 65: A Freaking Ankle Crabbed His Blissful Trips 1/13/2003
74. Dream Song 99: Temples 1/13/2003
75. Dream Song 172: Your Face Broods 1/13/2003
76. Dream Song 95: The Surly Cop Looked Out At Me In Sleep 1/13/2003
77. Dream Song 131: Come Touch Me Baby In His Waking Dream 1/13/2003
78. Dream Song 35: Mla 1/13/2003
79. Dream Song 67: I Don'T Operate Often. When I Do 1/13/2003
80. Dream Song 74: Henry Hates The World. What The World To Henry 1/13/2003

Comments about John Berryman

  • Christopher Amati (9/4/2014 5:37:00 PM)

    I am reading Dream Songs. I cant really like this poetry. I like Lowell so much, I thought I could eventually like Berryman, but no. Lowell is sculptural, so dramatic and so inventive. Berryman just seems kind of...whiny

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  • Kenneth Belknap (4/1/2011 10:37:00 PM)

    Came here just to find some of the Dream Songs. Are there lots of poets who are unreadable on this sight?

  • Aj Pinquot (6/27/2010 7:48:00 PM)

    Is there any way to actually, you know, read the effing poems?

  • Ravi Avasthi (8/30/2009 11:27:00 AM)

    too early to comment, just opened my account

Best Poem of John Berryman

Dream Song 1: Huffy Henry Hid The Day

Huffy Henry hid the day,
unappeasable Henry sulked.
I see his point,—a trying to put things over.
It was the thought that they thought
they could do it made Henry wicked & away.
But he should have come out and talked.

All the world like a woolen lover
once did seem on Henry's side.
Then came a departure.
Thereafter nothing fell out as it might or ought.
I don't see how Henry, pried
open for all the world to see, survived.

What he has now to say is a long
wonder the world can bear & be.
Once in a sycamore I was glad
all at ...

Read the full of Dream Song 1: Huffy Henry Hid The Day

Dream Song 99: Temples

He does not live here but it is the god.
A priest tools in a top his motorbike.
You do not enter.
Us the landscape circles hard abroad,
sunned, stone. Like calls, too low, to like.

One submachine-gun cleared the Durga Temple.

It is very dark here in this groping forth

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