Get Your Premium Membership

Charles Simic Short Poems

Famous Short Charles Simic Poems. Short poetry by famous poet Charles Simic. A collection of the all-time best Charles Simic short poems


by Charles Simic
 Executioner happy to explain
How his wristwatch works
As he shadows me on the street.
I call him that because he is grim and officious And wears black.
The clock on the church tower Had stopped at five to eleven.
The morning newspapers had no date.
The gray building on the corner Could've been a state pen, And then he showed up with his watch, Whose Gothic numerals And the absence of hands He wanted me to understand Right then and there.



by Charles Simic
 Green Buddhas
On the fruit stand.
We eat the smile And spit out the teeth.

by Charles Simic
 Seems like a long time
Since the waiter took my order.
Grimy little luncheonette, The snow falling outside.
Seems like it has grown darker Since I last heard the kitchen door Behind my back Since I last noticed Anyone pass on the street.
A glass of ice-water Keeps me company At this table I chose myself Upon entering.
And a longing, Incredible longing To eavesdrop On the conversation Of cooks.

by Charles Simic
 One shows me how to lie down in a field of clover.
Another how to slip my hand under her Sunday skirt.
Another how to kiss with a mouth full of blackberries.
Another how to catch fireflies in jar after dark.
Here is a stable with a single black mare And the proof of God's existence riding in a red nightgown.
Devil's child--or whatever she was? Having the nerve to ask me to go get her a whip.

by Charles Simic
 As an ant is powerless 
Against a raised boot, 
And only has an instant 
To have a bright idea or two.
The black boot so polished, He can see himself Reflected in it, distorted, Perhaps made larger Into a huge monster ant Shaking his arms and legs Threateningly? The boot may be hesitating, Demurring, having misgivings, Gathering cobwebs, Dew? Yes, and apparently no.



by Charles Simic
 I say to the lead
Why did you let yourself
Be cast into a bullet?
Have you forgotten the alchemists?
Have you given up hope
In turning into gold?

Nobody answers.
Lead.
Bullet.
With names Such as these The sleep is deep and long.

Coal  Create an image from this poem
by Charles Simic
 Dismembered angel
In whose heart the earth is still on fire,
The moon still has not been split-off;
Here is the message
Your long night announces:

Everything my eye encompasses this instant:
This fire, the cupped-hand, this window
With trees and miles of snow beyond it,
Even this thought, this poem,
Will be compressed
Into a lump of your sleep
For some other awakening.

by Charles Simic
 O crows circling over my head and cawing!
I admit to being, at times,
Suddenly, and without the slightest warning,
Exceedingly happy.
On a morning otherwise sunless, Strolling arm in arm Past some gallows-shaped trees With my dear Helen, Who is also a strange bird, With a feeling of being summoned Urgently, but by a most gracious invitation To breakfast on slices of watermelon In the company of naked gods and goddesses On a patch of last night's snow.

by Charles Simic
 1.
The Poet Someone awake when others are sleeping, Asleep when others are awake.
An illiterate who signs everything with an X.
A man about to be hanged cracking a joke.
2.
The Poem It is a piece of meat Carried by a burglar To distract a watchdog.