Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DOROTHY, by ALFRED FRANCIS KREYMBORG


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DOROTHY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Her eyes hold black whips
Last Line: Under the flame.
Subject(s): Beauty; Bodies; Eyes; Hair; Hands


I



HER EYES

Her eyes hold black whips --
dart of a whip
lashing, nay, flicking,
nay, merely caressing
the hide of a heart --
and a broncho tears through canyons --
walls reverberating,
sluggish streams
shaken to rapids and torrents,
storm destroying
silence and solitude!

Her eyes throw black lariats --
one for his head,
one for his heels --
and the beast lies vanquished --
walls still,
streams still,
except for a tarn,
or is it a pool,
or is it a whirlpool
twitching with memory?



II



HER HAIR

Her hair
is a tent
held down by two pegs --
ears, very likely --
where two gypsies --
lips, dull folk call them --
read your soul away:
one promising something,
the other stealing it.
If the pegs would let go --
why is it they're hidden? --
and the tent
blow away -- drop away --
like a wig --or a nest --
maybe
you'd escape
paying coin
to gypsies --
maybe --



III



HER HANDS

Blue veins
of morning glories --
blue veins
of clouds --
blue veins
bring deep-toned silence
after a storm.
White horns
of morning glories --
white flutes
of clouds --
sextets hold silence fast,
cup it for aye.
Could I
blow morning glories --
could I
lip clouds --
I'd sound the silence
her hands bring to me.
Had I
the yester sun --
had I
the morrow's --
brush them like cymbals,
I'd then sound the noise.



IV



HER BODY

Her body gleams
like an altar candle --
white in the dark --
and modulates
to voluptuous bronze --
bronze of a sea --
under the flame.






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