Patrick White

Rookie (September l5, l948 / Campbell River, British Columbia, Canada)

Patrick White Poems

41. Why Do You Cast Me In The Worst Light 1/23/2012
42. These Words Turn Homeward 1/24/2012
43. Old Gate Off Its Hinge 1/24/2012
44. You Lied To Me Once 1/24/2012
45. And Though It's Dark And Cold Now 1/24/2012
46. Nightbird On A Winter Branch 1/24/2012
47. And The Poems Sit There 1/25/2012
48. There, You See, I Let You Go 1/25/2012
49. Long Ago 1/26/2012
50. Poetry 1/26/2012
51. Lykoeia 1/26/2012
52. You'Re Not Mad Enough 1/26/2012
53. Whether I Languish Here 1/27/2012
54. There's A Bitterness In The Light 1/27/2012
55. Cosmologist With Tweezers 1/27/2012
56. If The Bread Got Any Harder 1/27/2012
57. Making Peace With My Father 1/28/2012
58. First Yellow Leaves On The Black Walnut Trees 1/28/2012
59. Lees 1/28/2012
60. The Brief History Of Now 1/28/2012
61. A Whole Galaxy Lights Up 1/29/2012
62. Mystic Regency 1/29/2012
63. My Lonely Island Music 1/29/2012
64. Ten Hours A Day Painting In The Half Wild Fields 1/29/2012
65. The Stars So Near 1/29/2012
66. What Do We Know? 1/30/2012
67. Tired Of Supplying The Stars 1/30/2012
68. It's Writing Me 1/30/2012
69. If You'Ve Come This Far 1/30/2012
70. Prima Noctis 1/31/2012
71. Bitter 1/31/2012
72. And The Rose 1/31/2012
73. Noise Seeping Into The Silence 1/15/2012
74. The Greater Love Unanswered 1/16/2012
75. Still Life With Clown 1/16/2012
76. Born Below 1/8/2012
77. One Day Your Mouth 1/9/2012
78. Your Eyes For Awhile 1/31/2012
79. Awake And Labouring 2/1/2012
80. Flyaway Woman 2/1/2012

Comments about Patrick White

  • i dont have a name (12/11/2017 6:38:00 PM)

    his poems are too long for my work

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Jonathan Platt (1/29/2013 12:57:00 PM)

    If you've never read Patrick White, prepare you mind for an off-the-planet voyage.

    Patrick has opened up new doorways of imagination...and once inside, he opens more.

Best Poem of Patrick White

A Day Of Writing

A day of writing, trying to clarify myself
to Alysia, myself, Alysia, to the night rain,
trying to hang the universe on the tip of an eyelash
without blinking, pulling handfuls of the stagnant dimensions
of my apparent magnitude off
like the dead undergrowth
of a plausible star to try as an antidote
to the junkmail perfume samplers
that keep heaping themselves up on my doorstep
like the fake leaves of a tree somewhere on acid,
mini-nirvanas that reek in the dark of enlightened snake-oil.

Tonight I like the windows black, starless,
but keep the ...

Read the full of A Day Of Writing

Burning World, Take Me

Burning world, take me, fold me in your flaming arms
and let me disappear into the unforgiving night.
Among these blind, here, in their black eggs,
eyeless birds who nest in their own ignorance,
I am the leper of light they drive out
with the stone of the moon, the wolf
with the mystic wound that will not heal until the last star
is born of the bleeding. Return me to the cold, brutal beauty
of your mineral wilderness, my bones on Venus

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