Thom Gunn Poems
|5.||Tamer And Hawk||8/29/2014|
|7.||For A Birthday||12/3/2014|
|8.||Painting By Vuillard||1/3/2003|
|9.||To Yvor Winters||1/3/2003|
|10.||A Map Of The City||11/12/2005|
|12.||The Butcher's Son||1/3/2003|
|14.||From The Wave||11/7/2005|
|17.||Considering The Snail||1/3/2003|
|18.||My Sad Captains||1/13/2003|
|20.||The Man With Night Sweats||1/3/2003|
|21.||On The Move 'Man, You Gotta Go.'||1/13/2003|
Comments about Thom Gunn
It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined
Half of the night with our old friend
Who'd showed us in the end
To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.
Already I lay snug,
And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.
I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,
Suddenly, from behind,
In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:
Your instep to my heel,
My shoulder-blades against your chest.
It was not sex, but I could feel
The whole strength of your body set,
Or braced, to mine,
And locking me to you
As if we were still twenty-two
When our ...
To Yvor Winters
Though night is always close, complete negation
Ready to drop on wisdom and emotion,
Night from the air or the carnivorous breath,
Still it is right to know the force of death,
And, as you do, persistent, tough in will,
Raise from the excellent the better still.