Patrick White Poems

Hit Title Date Added
231.
The Last Draft

There never was a way I could say it;
impossible from the first. The night
opened my mouth and poured its stars
down the well of my throat so I could say it in light,
...

232.
Savage Ashtray

In the early grey morning trying to tune the tinny rain
to the fleeting keys of the pentatonic birds,
a bad musician lost in the labyrinth of its ear
like a spider or a sodden note with too many sad flags
...

233.
The Radiant Nadirs Of The Underestimated

The radiant nadirs of the underestimated,
all these small town upstairs windows at night
where people bloom like flowers,
trout lily, hepatica, wood violet
...

234.
There's Nothing Cozy About Real Beauty

There’s nothing cozy about real beauty.
That’s why it scares you to death
when you’re around it. You sense
that it disdains to kill you
...

235.
January Sunset

January sunset, clear blue sky,
peacock viridian with a wash of ultramarine,
warm for this time of year.
Ninety-nine percent of a full moon
...

236.
Meditations In A Snake Pit Of Dissonant Wavelengths

Meditations in a snake pit of dissonant wavelengths.
An anti-Zen photo-op of enlightened dark energy.
Does a clean slate mean
there’s no starlight in the windows,
...

237.
Why Do You Cast Me In The Worst Light

Why do you cast me in the worst light possible
when you know I treat you like the navel of the world,
the Pleiades, the ghost of a mountain
that was once my heart? Why do you lie to me
...

238.
These Words Turn Homeward

These words turn homeward
toward you, my dark wood,
because of all assignations of the night
you are West, you are dream and secret
...

239.
Old Gate Off Its Hinge

Old gate off its hinge.
Matted like a lapwing in the long blond grass.
What is there to distract me from?
I pass, but not as a predator.
...

240.
And Though It's Dark And Cold Now

And though it’s dark and cold now
in this ice palace of broken windows
that don’t know whether to bite their lips
or cut their wrists like a suicide
...

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