10 Best Famous Fabrications Poems

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

• All Famous Fabrications Poems

 Glassmakers,
at century's end,
compounded metallic lusters

in reference
to natural sheens (dragonfly
and beetle wings,

marbled light on kerosene)
and invented names
as coolly lustrous

as their products'
scarab-gleam: Quetzal,
Aurene, Favrile.

Suggesting,
respectively, the glaze
of feathers,

that sun-shot fog
of which halos
are composed,

and -- what?
What to make of Favrile,
Tiffany's term

for his coppery-rose
flushed with gold
like the alchemized

atmosphere of sunbeams
in a Flemish room?
Faux Moorish,

fake Japanese,
his lamps illumine
chiefly themselves,

copying waterlilies'
bronzy stems,
wisteria or trout scales;

surfaces burnished
like a tidal stream
on which an excitation

of minnows boils
and blooms, artifice
made to show us

the lavish wardrobe
of things, the world's
glaze of appearances

worked into the thin
and gleaming stuff
of craft. A story:

at the puppet opera
--where one man animated
the entire cast

while another ghosted
the voices, basso
to coloratura -- Jimmy wept

at the world of tiny gestures,
forgot, he said,
these were puppets,

forgot these wire
and plaster fabrications
were actors at all,

since their pretense
allowed the passions
released to be--

well, operatic.
It's too much,
to be expected to believe;

art's a mercuried sheen
in which we may discern,
because it is surface,

clear or vague
suggestions of our depths,
Don't we need a word

for the luster
of things which insist
on the fact they're made,

which announce
their maker's bravura?
Favrile, I'd propose,

for the perfect lamp,
too dim and strange
to help us read.

For the kimono woven,
dipped in dyes, unraveled
and loomed again

that the pattern might take on
a subtler shading
For the sonnet's

blown-glass sateen,
for bel canto,
for Faberge

For everything
which begins in limit
(where else might our work

begin?) and ends in grace,
or at least extravagance.
For the silk sleeves

of the puppet queen,
held at a ravishing angle
over her puppet lover slain,

for her lush vowels
mouthed by the plain man
hunched behind the stage.

 My felisberto is handsomer than your mergotroid,
although, admittedly, your mergotroid may be the wiser of the two. 
Whereas your mergotroid never winces or quails, 
my felisberto is a titan of inconsistencies.
For a night of wit and danger and temptation 
my felisberto would be the obvious choice.
However, at dawn or dusk when serenity is desired 
your mergotroid cannot be ignored.
Merely to sit near it in the garden
and watch the fabrications of the world swirl by, 
the deep-sea's bathymetry wash your eyes, 
not to mention the little fawns of the forest 
and their flip-floppy gymnastics, ah, for this 
and so much more your mergotroid is infinitely preferable. 
But there is a place for darkness and obscurity 
without which life can sometimes seem too much, 
too frivolous and too profound simultaneously, 
and that is when my felisberto is needed, 
is longed for and loved, and then the sun can rise again. 
The bee and the hummingbird drink of the world, 
and your mergotroid elaborates the silent concert 
that is always and always about to begin.

 My felisberto is handsomer than your mergotroid,
although, admittedly, your mergotroid may be the wiser of the two. 
Whereas your mergotroid never winces or quails, 
my felisberto is a titan of inconsistencies.
For a night of wit and danger and temptation 
my felisberto would be the obvious choice.
However, at dawn or dusk when serenity is desired 
your mergotroid cannot be ignored.
Merely to sit near it in the garden
and watch the fabrications of the world swirl by, 
the deep-sea's bathymetry wash your eyes, 
not to mention the little fawns of the forest 
and their flip-floppy gymnastics, ah, for this 
and so much more your mergotroid is infinitely preferable. 
But there is a place for darkness and obscurity 
without which life can sometimes seem too much, 
too frivolous and too profound simultaneously, 
and that is when my felisberto is needed, 
is longed for and loved, and then the sun can rise again. 
The bee and the hummingbird drink of the world, 
and your mergotroid elaborates the silent concert 
that is always and always about to begin.