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| Search results for: p | Found 8786 Poems |
| 1981. | The Planet On The Table by Wallace Stevens | | Ariel was glad he had written his poems.
They were of a remembered time
Or of something seen that he liked.
Other makings of the sun
Were waste ... |
| 1982. | The Emperor Of Ice-Cream by Wallace Stevens | | Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they... |
| 1983. | Final Soliloquy Of The Interior Paramour by Wallace Stevens | | Light the first light of evening, as in a room
In which we rest and, for small reason, think
The world imagined is the ultimate good.
This is, th... |
| 1984. | Of Modern Poetry by Wallace Stevens | | The poem of the mind in the act of finding
What will suffice. It has not always had
To find: the scene was set; it repeated what
Was in the script.... |
| 1985. | The Poem That Took The Place Of A Mountain by Wallace Stevens | | There it was, word for word,
The poem that took the place of a mountain.
He breathed its oxygen,
Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his... |
| 1986. | Metaphors Of A Magnifico by Wallace Stevens | | Twenty men crossing a bridge,
Into a village,
Are twenty men crossing twenty bridges,
Into twenty villages,
Or one man
Crossing a single bridge i... |
| 1987. | A Postcard From The Volcano by Wallace Stevens | | Children picking up our bones
Will never know that these were once
As quick as foxes on the hill;
And that in autumn, when the grapes
Made sharp... |
| 1988. | Peter Quince At The Clavier by Wallace Stevens | | I
Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And t... |
| 1989. | Six Significant Landscapes by Wallace Stevens | | I
An old man sits
In the shadow of a pine tree
In China.
He sees larkspur,
Blue and white,
At the edge of the shadow,
Move in the wind.
His be... |
| 1990. | The Plot Against The Giant by Wallace Stevens | | First Girl
When this yokel comes maundering,
Whetting his hacker,
I shall run before him,
Diffusing the civilest odors
Out of geraniums and unsme... |
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