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Best Famous Chromatic Poems

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

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Preamble (A Rough Draft For An Ars Poetica)

 ...Preamble

A rough draft 
for an ars poetica

. . . . . . . 

Let's get our dreams unstuck

The grain of rye
free from the prattle of grass
et loin de arbres orateurs

I 

plant

it

It will sprout


But forget about 
the rustic festivities

For the explosive word 
falls harmlessly
eternal through
the compact generations 

and except for you

 nothing 
 denotates

its sweet-scented dynamite

Greetings
I discard eloquence
the empty sail
and the swollen sail
which cause the ship 
to lose her course

My ink nicks
and there

and there

 and there

and
there

sleeps 
deep poetry

The mirror-paneled wardrobe 
washing down ice-floes
the little eskimo girl

dreaming
in a heap 
of moist *******
her nose was
 flattened
against the window-pane 
of dreary Christmases

A white bear
adorned with chromatic moire

dries himself in the midnight sun

Liners

The huge luxury item

Slowly founders
all its lights aglow

and so
sinks the evening-dress ball
into the thousand mirrors 
of the palace hotel

And now
it is I

the thin Columbus of phenomena
alone 
in the front 
of a mirror-paneled wardrobe
full of linen
and locking with a key

The obstinate miner
of the void
exploits
his fertile mine

the potential in the rough
glitters there
mingling with its white rock

 Oh
 princess of the mad sleep
listen to my horn
 and my pack of hounds

I deliver you
from the forest
where we came upon the spell

Here we are
by the pen
one with the other
wedded
on the page

Isles sobs of Ariadne

Ariadnes
 dragging along
 Aridnes seals

for I betray you my fair stanzas
to 
run and awaken
elsewhere

I plan no architecture

Simply
deaf
like you Beethoven

blind
like you
Homer
numberless old man

born everywhere

I elaborate
in the prairies of inner
silence

and the work of the mission
and the poem of the work
and the stanza of the poem
and the group of the stanza
and the words of the group
and the letters of the word
and the least
loop of the letters

it's your foot
of attentive satin
that I place in position
pink
tightrope walker
sucked up by the void

to the left to the right
the god gives a shake
and I walk
towards the other side
 with infinite precaution

Written by Robert Browning |

Youth and Art

 1 It once might have been, once only:
2 We lodged in a street together,
3 You, a sparrow on the housetop lonely,
4 I, a lone she-bird of his feather.

5 Your trade was with sticks and clay,
6 You thumbed, thrust, patted and polished,
7 Then laughed 'They will see some day
8 Smith made, and Gibson demolished.'

9 My business was song, song, song;
10 I chirped, cheeped, trilled and twittered,
11 'Kate Brown's on the boards ere long,
12 And Grisi's existence embittered!'

13 I earned no more by a warble
14 Than you by a sketch in plaster;
15 You wanted a piece of marble,
16 I needed a music-master.

17 We studied hard in our styles,
18 Chipped each at a crust like Hindoos,
19 For air looked out on the tiles,
20 For fun watched each other's windows.

21 You lounged, like a boy of the South,
22 Cap and blouse--nay, a bit of beard too;
23 Or you got it, rubbing your mouth
24 With fingers the clay adhered to.

25 And I--soon managed to find
26 Weak points in the flower-fence facing,
27 Was forced to put up a blind
28 And be safe in my corset-lacing.

29 No harm! It was not my fault
30 If you never turned your eye's tail up
31 As I shook upon E in alt,
32 Or ran the chromatic scale up:

33 For spring bade the sparrows pair,
34 And the boys and girls gave guesses,
35 And stalls in our street looked rare
36 With bulrush and watercresses.

37 Why did not you pinch a flower
38 In a pellet of clay and fling it?
39 Why did not I put a power
40 Of thanks in a look, or sing it?

41 I did look, sharp as a lynx,
42 (And yet the memory rankles,)
43 When models arrived, some minx
44 Tripped up-stairs, she and her ankles.

45 But I think I gave you as good!
46 'That foreign fellow,--who can know
47 How she pays, in a playful mood,
48 For his tuning her that piano?'

49 Could you say so, and never say
50 'Suppose we join hands and fortunes,
51 And I fetch her from over the way,
52 Her, piano, and long tunes and short tunes?'

53 No, no: you would not be rash,
54 Nor I rasher and something over:
55 You've to settle yet Gibson's hash,
56 And Grisi yet lives in clover.

57 But you meet the Prince at the Board,
58 I'm queen myself at bals-par?,
59 I've married a rich old lord,
60 And you're dubbed knight and an R.A.

61 Each life unfulfilled, you see;
62 It hangs still, patchy and scrappy:
63 We have not sighed deep, laughed free,
64 Starved, feasted, despaired,--been happy.

65 And nobody calls you a dunce,
66 And people suppose me clever:
67 This could but have happened once,
68 And we missed it, lost it for ever.