Famous Cult Poems by Famous Poets

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To-day we are lost in love, we are in deep distress,

To-day we are lost in love, we are in deep distress,
and finally inebriate, within the temple of our idols
render to the cult of wine its due. To-day, entirely separate
from our being, we shall have attained the step of
the eternal throne....Read more of this...

Dream Song 87: Op. posth. no. 10

 these hearings endlessly, friends, word is had
Henry may be returning to our life
adult & difficult.
There exist rumors that remote and sad
and quite beyond the knowledge of his wife
to the foothills of the cult

will come in silence this distinguished one
essaying once again the lower slopes
in triumph, keeping up our hopes,
and heading not for the highest we have done
but enigmatic faces,...Read more of this...

An Evening Of Poetry

 Arriving for a reading an hour too early:

Ruefully, the general manager stopped putting out the chairs.

“You don’t get any help these days. I have

To sort out everything from furniture to faxes.

Why not wander round the park? There are ducks

And benches where you can sit and watch.”



I realized it was going to be a hungry evening

With not even a packet...Read more of this...

That One

 Oh days devoted to the useless burden
of putting out of mind the biography
of a minor poet of the Southem Hemisphere,
to whom the fates or perhaps the stars have given
a body which will leave behind no child,
and blindness, which is semi-darkness and jail,
and old age, which is the dawn of death,
and fame, which absolutely nobody deserves,
and the practice of weaving...Read more of this...

Incense

 Think not that incense-smoke has had its day. 
My friends, the incense-time has but begun. 
Creed upon creed, cult upon cult shall bloom, 
Shrine after shrine grow gray beneath the sun. 

And mountain-boulders in our aged West 
Shall guard the graves of hermits truth-endowed: 
And there the scholar from the Chinese hills 
Shall do deep honor, with his wise...Read more of this...

from the Ansty Experience

 (a)
they seek to celebrate the word
not to bring their knives out on a poem
dissecting it to find a heart
whose beat lies naked on a table
not to score in triumph on a line
no sensitive would put a nostril to
but simply to receive it as an
offering glimpsing the sacred there

poem probes the poet's once-intention
but each time said budges its truth
afresh (leaving...Read more of this...

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