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Famous Short Absence Poems

Famous Short Absence Poems. Short Absence Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Absence short poems

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Absence | Short Famous Poems and Poets

by Emily Dickinson

Absence disembodies -- so does Death

 Absence disembodies -- so does Death
Hiding individuals from the Earth
Superposition helps, as well as love --
Tenderness decreases as we prove --

by Spike Milligan


 Things that go 'bump' in the night
Should not really give one a fright.
It's the hole in each ear That lets in the fear, That, and the absence of light!

by Omar Khayyam

For union with my love I sigh in vain,

For union with my love I sigh in vain,
The pangs of absence I can scarce sustain,
My grief I dare not tell to any friend;
O trouble strange, sweet passion, bitter pain!

by Emily Dickinson

Well pass without the parting

 We'll pass without the parting
So to spare
Certificate of Absence --
Deeming where

I left Her I could find Her
If I tried --
This way, I keep from missing
Those that died.

by Omar Khayyam

Who was it brought thee here at nightfall, who?

Who was it brought thee here at nightfall, who?
Forth from the harem in this manner, who?
To him who in thy absence burns as fire,
And trembles like hot air, who was it, who?

by Emily Dickinson

Each Scar Ill keep for Him

 Each Scar I'll keep for Him
Instead I'll say of Gem
In His long Absence worn
A Costlier one

But every Tear I bore
Were He to count them o'er
His own would fall so more
I'll mis sum them.

by Leonard Cohen

The Future

 The future: time's excuse
to frighten us; too vast
a project, too large a morsel
for the heart's mouth.
Future, who won't wait for you? Everyone is going there.
It suffices you to deepen the absence that we are.

by Emily Dickinson

We miss Her not because We see --

 We miss Her, not because We see --
The Absence of an Eye --
Except its Mind accompany
Abridge Society

As slightly as the Routes of Stars --
Ourselves -- asleep below --
We know that their superior Eyes
Include Us -- as they go --

by Emily Dickinson

He found my Being -- set it up --

 He found my Being -- set it up --
Adjusted it to place --
Then carved his name -- upon it --
And bade it to the East

Be faithful -- in his absence --
And he would come again --
With Equipage of Amber --
That time -- to take it Home --

by Omar Khayyam

Who led thee here this night, thus given up to wine?

Who led thee here this night, thus given up to wine?
Who, indeed, raising the veil which hid thee, has been
able to lead thee here? Who, finally, brought thee as
rapidly as the wind which fans the fire that still burned
in thy absence?

by Emily Dickinson

Long Years apart -- can make no

 Long Years apart -- can make no
Breach a second cannot fill --
The absence of the Witch does not
Invalidate the spell --

The embers of a Thousand Years
Uncovered by the Hand
That fondled them when they were Fire
Will stir and understand --

by Omar Khayyam

Except Thy absence there is nothing of worth that can

Except Thy absence there is nothing of worth that can
bruise to the quick; he cannot be acute who is not taken
with Thy subtle charms, and, although there exist in
Thy mind no care for any one, there is none who may
not be preoccupied with Thee.

by Mark Strand

Keeping Things Whole

 In a field
I am the absence
of field.
This is always the case.
Wherever I am I am what is missing.
When I walk I part the air and always the air moves in to fill the spaces where my body's been.
We all have reasons for moving.
I move to keep things whole.

by John Montague

No Music

 I'll tell you a sore truth, little understood
It's harder to leave, than to be left:
To stay, to leave, both sting wrong.
You will always have me to blame, Can dream we might have sailed on; From absence's rib, a warm fiction.
To tear up old love by the roots, To trample on past affections: There is no music for so harsh a song.

by Jack Gilbert


 Suddenly this defeat.
This rain.
The blues gone gray And the browns gone gray And yellow A terrible amber.
In the cold streets Your warm body.
In whatever room Your warm body.
Among all the people Your absence The people who are always Not you.
I have been easy with trees Too long.
Too familiar with mountains.
Joy has been a habit.
Now Suddenly This rain.

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Fires Reflection

 Perhaps it's no more than the fire's reflection
on some piece of gleaming furniture
that the child remembers so much later
like a revelation.
And if in his later life, one day wounds him like so many others, it's because he mistook some risk or other for a promise.
Let's not forget the music, either, that soon had hauled him toward absence complicated by an overflowing heart.

by Philip Larkin

The Mower

 The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found
A hedgehog jammed up against the blades,
It had been in the long grass.
I had seen it before, and even fed it, once.
Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world Unmendably.
Burial was no help: Next morning I got up and it did not.
The first day after a death, the new absence Is always the same; we should be careful Of each other, we should be kind While there is still time.

by Charles Simic

The School Of Metaphysics

 Executioner happy to explain
How his wristwatch works
As he shadows me on the street.
I call him that because he is grim and officious And wears black.
The clock on the church tower Had stopped at five to eleven.
The morning newspapers had no date.
The gray building on the corner Could've been a state pen, And then he showed up with his watch, Whose Gothic numerals And the absence of hands He wanted me to understand Right then and there.

by Robert Francis


 Words of a poem should be glass
But glass so simple-subtle its shape
Is nothing but the shape of what it holds.
A glass spun for itself is empty, Brittle, at best Venetian trinket.
Embossed glass hides the poem of its absence.
Words should be looked through, should be windows.
The best word were invisible.
The poem is the thing the poet thinks.
If the impossible were not, And if the glass, only the glass, Could be removed, the poem would remain.

by Delmore Schwartz


 I looked toward the movie, the common dream,
The he and she in close-ups, nearer than life, 
And I accepted such things as they seem,

The easy poise, the absence of the knife, 
The near summer happily ever after, 
The understood question, the immediate strife,

Not dangerous, nor mortal, but the fadeout 
Enormously kissing amid warm laughter, 
As if such things were not always played out

By an ignorant arm, which crosses the dark
And lights up a thin sheet with a shadow's mark.