10 Best Famous Cabalistic Poems

Here is a collection of the top 10 all-time best famous Cabalistic poems. This is a select list of the best famous Cabalistic poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Cabalistic poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of cabalistic poems.

• All Famous Cabalistic Poems

Written by Howard Nemerov | The Blue Swallows Across the millstream below the bridge Seven blue swallows divide the air In shapes invisible and evanescent, Kaleidoscopic beyond the mind’s Or memory’s power to keep them there. “History is where tensions were,” “Form is the diagram of forces.” Thus, helplessly, there on the bridge, While gazing down upon those birds— How strange, to be above the birds!— Thus helplessly the mind in its brain Weaves up relation’s spindrift web, Seeing the swallows’ tails as nibs Dipped in invisible ink, writing… Poor mind, what would you have them write? Some cabalistic history Whose authorship you might ascribe To God? to Nature? Ah, poor ghost, You’ve capitalized your Self enough. That villainous William of Occam Cut out the feet from under that dream Some seven centuries ago. It’s taken that long for the mind To waken, yawn and stretch, to see With opened eyes emptied of speech The real world where the spelling mind Imposes with its grammar book Unreal relations on the blue Swallows. Perhaps when you will have Fully awakened, I shall show you A new thing: even the water Flowing away beneath those birds Will fail to reflect their flying forms, And the eyes that see become as stones Whence never tears shall fall again. O swallows, swallows, poems are not The point. Finding again the world, That is the point, where loveliness Adorns intelligible things Because the mind’s eye lit the sun.

Written by Arthur Symons | The Andante of Snakes They weave a slow andante as in sleep, Scaled yellow, swampy black, plague-spotted white; With blue and lidless eyes at watch they keep A treachery of silence; infinite Ancestral angers brood in these dull eyes Where the long-lineaged venom of the snake Meditates evil; woven intricacies Of Oriental arabesque awake, Unfold, expand, contract, and raise and sway Swoln heart-shaped heads, flattened as by a heel, Erect to suck the sunlight from the day, And stealthily and gradually reveal Dim cabalistic signs of spots and rings Among their folds of faded tapestry; Then these fat, foul, unbreathing, moving things Droop back to stagnant immobility.

Written by Carl Sandburg | Pencils PENCILS telling where the wind comes from open a story. Pencils telling where the wind goes end a story. These eager pencils come to a stop .. only .. when the stars high over come to a stop. Out of cabalistic to-morrows come cryptic babies calling life a strong and a lovely thing. I have seen neither these nor the stars high over come to a stop. Neither these nor the sea horses running with the clocks of the moon. Nor even a shooting star snatching a pencil of fire writing a curve of gold and white. Like you .. I counted the shooting stars of a winter night and my head was dizzy with all of them calling one by one: Look for us again.

Written by Carl Sandburg | Neighbors ON Forty First Street near Eighth Avenue a frame house wobbles. If houses went on crutches this house would be one of the cripples. A sign on the house: Church of the Living God And Rescue Home for Orphan Children. From a Greek coffee house Across the street A cabalistic jargon Jabbers back. And men at tables Spill Peloponnesian syllables And speak of shovels for street work. And the new embankments of the Erie Railroad At Painted Post, Horse’s Head, Salamanca.