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Best Famous Thomas Blackburn Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Thomas Blackburn poems. This is a select list of the best famous Thomas Blackburn poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Thomas Blackburn poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of Thomas Blackburn poems.

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by Thomas Blackburn | |

Hospital For Defectives

 By your unnumbered charities
A miracle disclose,
Lord of the Images, whose love
The eyelids and the rose 
Takes for a language, and today
Tell to me what is said
By these men in a turnip field 
And their unleavened bread.
For all things seem to figure out The stirrings of your heart, And two men pick the turnips up And two men pull the cart; And yet between the four of them No word is ever said Because the yeast was not put in Which makes the human bread.
But three men stare on vacancy And one man strokes his knees; What is the meaning to be found In such dark vowels as these? Lord of the Images, whose love The eyelid and the rose Takes for a metaphor, today, Beneath the warder's blows, The unleavened man did not cry out Or turn his face away; Through such men in a turnip field What is it that you say?


by Thomas Blackburn | |

An Invitation

 Holding with shaking hands a letter from some
Official – high up he says in the Ministry,
I note that I am invited to Birmingham,
There pedagogues to address for a decent fee.
'We like to meet,' he goes on, 'men eminent In the field of letters each year,' and that's well put, Though I find his words not wholly relevant To this red-eyed fellow whose mouth tastes rank as soot.
No doubt what he's thinking of is poetry When 'Thomas Blackburn' he writes, and not the fuss A life makes when it has no symmetry, Though the term 'a poet' being mainly posthumous, Since I'm no stiff, is inappropriate.
What I can confirm is the struggle that never lets up Between the horses of Plato beneath my yoke, One after Light, and for Hell not giving a rap, The other only keen on infernal smoke.
And poems.
.
.
? From time to time they commemorate Some particularly dirty battle between these two; I put the letter down – what's the right note? 'Dear Sir,' I type, 'how nice to speak to you!'