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Best Famous Arpeggio Poems

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

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I am a Black Woman

I am a black woman 
the music of my song 
some sweet arpeggio of tears 
is written in a minor key 
and I 
can be heard humming in the night 
Can be heard 
humming 
in the night

I saw my mate leap screaming to the sea 
and I/with these hands/cupped the lifebreath 
from my issue in the canebrake 
I lost Nat's swinging body in a rain of tears 
and heard my son scream all the way from Anzio 
for Peace he never knew....I 
learned Da Nang and Pork Chop Hill 
in anguish 
Now my nostrils know the gas 
and these trigger tire/d fingers 
seek the softness in my warrior's beard


I am a black woman 
tall as a cypress 
strong 
beyond all definition still 
defying place 
and time 
and circumstance 
assailed 
impervious 
indestructible 
Look 
on me and be 
renewed

Written by John Ashbery |

Farm Implements and Rutabagas in a Landscape

 The first of the undecoded messages read: "Popeye sits 
in thunder,
Unthought of. From that shoebox of an apartment,
From livid curtain's hue, a tangram emerges: a country."
Meanwhile the Sea Hag was relaxing on a green couch: "How 
pleasant
To spend one's vacation en la casa de Popeye," she 
scratched
Her cleft chin's solitary hair. She remembered spinach

And was going to ask Wimpy if he had bought any spinach.
"M'love," he intercepted, "the plains are decked out 
in thunder
Today, and it shall be as you wish." He scratched
The part of his head under his hat. The apartment
Seemed to grow smaller. "But what if no pleasant
Inspiration plunge us now to the stars? For this is my 
country."

Suddenly they remembered how it was cheaper in the country.
Wimpy was thoughtfully cutting open a number 2 can of spinach
When the door opened and Swee'pea crept in. "How pleasant!"
But Swee'pea looked morose. A note was pinned to his bib. 
"Thunder
And tears are unavailing," it read. "Henceforth shall
Popeye's apartment
Be but remembered space, toxic or salubrious, whole or 
scratched."

Olive came hurtling through the window; its geraniums scratched
Her long thigh. "I have news!" she gasped. "Popeye, forced as 
you know to flee the country
One musty gusty evening, by the schemes of his wizened, 
duplicate father, jealous of the apartment
And all that it contains, myself and spinach
In particular, heaves bolts of loving thunder
At his own astonished becoming, rupturing the pleasant

Arpeggio of our years. No more shall pleasant
Rays of the sun refresh your sense of growing old, nor the 
scratched
Tree-trunks and mossy foliage, only immaculate darkness and 
thunder."
She grabbed Swee'pea. "I'm taking the brat to the country."
"But you can't do that--he hasn't even finished his spinach,"
Urged the Sea Hag, looking fearfully around at the apartment.

But Olive was already out of earshot. Now the apartment
Succumbed to a strange new hush. "Actually it's quite pleasant
Here," thought the Sea Hag. "If this is all we need fear from 
spinach
Then I don't mind so much. Perhaps we could invite Alice the Goon 
over"--she scratched
One dug pensively--"but Wimpy is such a country
Bumpkin, always burping like that." Minute at first, the thunder

Soon filled the apartment. It was domestic thunder,
The color of spinach. Popeye chuckled and scratched
His balls: it sure was pleasant to spend a day in the country.