Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SUMMER'S JOE, by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON Poet Analysis First Line: He unlocked an apple first, then lifted the latch Last Line: With no again, a feast of no. Subject(s): Love; Love - Nature Of; Man-woman Relationships; Male-female Relations | ||||||||
He unlocked an apple first, then lifted the latch of the ancestral tree, whistled amongst the tall corn gaily like a scythe of birds: on the shore the lion waves lay down on their paws and above the trodden sand a storm of gulls made sadness as white as April does; he climbed the stalled peak above the hush of the slimmed sea, the lark went up on his stalk and the gorse had a fry of bees O sign me into your water, he cried, to the cool annul, write me into your smooth bible he called to the lake, unwind me on your reel, he said to the road of go, slow me into a grey rock! but the answer was No, Joe. He called to the hunting morning then to shoot his blood, he asked the seamstress of the woods to stitch his manhood, he stripped to show his flesh, his flesh was white as snow give me ecstasy of total love! but the answer was No, Joe. Then dropped by wind at the starting-point he was damned by stone, he was left with the grocer's salt of love in the place of boards; swallows passed him and sparrows shot above his head, light left in a sail for the farthest south, eyes fell from a kite; while the natural lechers in their pool pulled down the shades, fireflies with their pouting milk perplexed the roads when night's a journey land's in doubt, flesh is a traveller, ho for the lantern of yourself, ho for the clock! In the always-easy bed he found the lazy chart, in the uncharted land he saw the heart's riot, wrestling weak angels then he climbed gristle and bone until on top of himself he saw that he was still alone: O God from my Italian pride deliver me now, and from my terrible steepness! but the answer was No Joe the answer was No. Then sudden in the scope of sea with the delight of found he saw his treasure island, he saw his milkwhite fathom. To every spar and nerve he set his orchard sails and in the fleet of love his eyes were sea-blue admirals, while at his telescope of brass she lulled her palms, lay level to his pride, lay still to his rocked rigging. ... O secret in that heart of a place a bird looks out, pivots the forest on its nest, its eye the germ of light no join was seen between flesh and flesh, between hair and grass, loving themselves the world they loved with a mirror's process; leaving their fear in another place, their clock in a pool, it seemed that the earth had made of them its capital for the deputies of leaves and waves the motes of wit, a parliament of the water-jet and a sun-up senate. He turned towards his love and said, Love, tell me now is not our love perpetual? but she said No Joe. Is not our ecstasy for life with a hey-nonny-no? and she replied from a long way off and her answer was No. I call you by our bed of love couple, roll and hairy-ho! she answered: While we loved these died, with no again, a feast of No. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MISERY AND SPLENDOR by ROBERT HASS THE APPLE TREES AT OLEMA by ROBERT HASS DOUBLE SONNET by ANTHONY HECHT CONDITIONS XXI by ESSEX HEMPHILL CALIFORNIA SORROW: MOUNTAIN VIEW by MARY KINZIE SUPERBIA: A TRIUMPH WITH NO TRAIN by MARY KINZIE COUNSEL TO UNREASON by LEONIE ADAMS TWENTY QUESTIONS by DAVID LEHMAN CAPITAL SQUARE by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON |
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