Showing posts with label William Carlos Williams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Carlos Williams. Show all posts

Thursday, July 10, 2014

William Carlos Williams: "Thursday"




                                  I have had my dream—like others—
                                  and it has come to nothing, so that
                                  I remain now carelessly
                                  with feet planted on the ground
                                  and look up at the sky—
                                  feeling my clothes about me,
                                  the weight of my body in my shoes,
                                  the rim of my hat, air passing in and out
                                  at my nose—and decide to dream no more.



"Thursday" by William Carlos Williams, from "Broken Windows," in Poetry: A Magazine of Verse: Volume XIII, edited by Harriet Monroe. © Modern Poetry Association, 1918-1919.  

Art credit: "St. Francis in the Desert," oil and tempera painting on poplar panel, by Giovanni Bellini (around 1480; originally color). Curator's note: The painting shows a barefoot Saint Francis, dressed in his monk's robes, looking up into the sky.


Thursday, May 29, 2014

William Carlos Williams: "To a Poor Old Woman"


munching a plum on
the street a paper bag
of them in her hand 

They taste good to her
They taste good
to her. They taste
good to her

You can see it by
the way she gives herself
to the one half
sucked out in her hand 

Comforted
a solace of ripe plums
seeming to fill the air
They taste good to her



"To a Poor Old Woman" by William Carlos Williams, from Collected Poems: 1909-1939, Volume I. © New Directions Publishing, 1938.

Art credit: Detail from "Light Through Paper Bag with Plums," oil painting by Loren DiBenedetto (originally color).


Wednesday, August 7, 2013

William Carlos Williams: "Nantucket"


Flowers through the window
lavender and yellow

changed by white curtains—
Smell of cleanliness—

Sunshine of late afternoon—
On the glass tray

a glass pitcher, the tumbler
turned down, by which

a key is lying—And the
immaculate white bed


"Nantucket" by William Carlos Williams, from William Carlos Williams: Selected Poems, edited by Robert Pinsky. © Library of America, 2004.

Photography credit: detail of image by Elisabeth Dunker (originally color).