Dylan Thomas

(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953 / Swansea / Wales)

To-Day, This Insect - Poem by Dylan Thomas

To-day, this insect, and the world I breathe,
Now that my symbols have outelbowed space,
Time at the city spectacles, and half
The dear, daft time I take to nudge the sentence,
In trust and tale I have divided sense,
Slapped down the guillotine, the blood-red double
Of head and tail made witnesses to this
Murder of Eden and green genesis.

The insect certain is the plague of fables.

This story's monster has a serpent caul,
Blind in the coil scrams round the blazing outline,
Measures his own length on the garden wall
And breaks his shell in the last shocked beginning;
A crocodile before the chrysalis,
Before the fall from love the flying heartbone,
Winged like a sabbath ass this children's piece
Uncredited blows Jericho on Eden.

The insect fable is the certain promise.

Death: death of Hamlet and the nightmare madmen,
An air-drawn windmill on a wooden horse,
John's beast, Job's patience, and the fibs of vision,
Greek in the Irish sea the ageless voice:
'Adam I love, my madmen's love is endless,
No tell-tale lover has an end more certain,
All legends' sweethearts on a tree of stories,
My cross of tales behind the fabulous curtain.'


Comments about To-Day, This Insect by Dylan Thomas

  • Brian Jani (4/26/2014 2:38:00 AM)


    Awesome I like this poem, check mine out (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: murder, horse, trust, city, death, children, tree, green, red, sea, time, world, love, child



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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