famous poetry
| Famous Poetry | Roleplay | Free Video Tutorials | Online Poetry Club | Free Education | Best of Youtube | Ear Training

Clemente's Images Analysis

Author: poem of Robert Creeley Type: poem Views: 10

Sponsored Links


Sleeping birds, lead me,

soft birds, be me

inside this black room,

back of the white moon.

In the dark night

sight frightens me.


Who is it nuzzles there

with furred, round headed stare?

Who, perched on the skin,

body's float, is holding on?

What other one stares still,

plays still, on and on?


Stand upright, prehensile,

squat, determined,

small guardians of the painful

outside coming in --

in stuck in vials with needles,

bleeding life in, particular, heedless.


Matrix of world

upon a turtle's broad back,

carried on like that,

eggs as pearls,

flesh and blood and bone

all borne along.


I'll tell you what you want,

to say a word,

to know the letters in yourself,

a skin falls off,

a big eared head appears,

an eye and mouth.


Under watery here,

under breath, under duress,

understand a pain

has threaded a needle with a little man --

gone fishing.

And fish appear.


If small were big,

if then were now,

if here were there,

if find were found,

if mind were all there was,

would the animals still save us?


A head was put

upon the shelf got took

by animal's hand and stuck

upon a vacant corpse

who, blurred, could nonetheless

not ever be the quietly standing bird it watched.


Not lost,

not better or worse,

much must of necessity depend on resources,

the pipes and bags brought with us

inside, all the sacks

and how and to what they are or were attached.


Everybody's child

walks the same winding road,

laughs and cries, dies.

That's "everybody's child,"

the one who's in between

the others who have come and gone.


Turn as one will, the sky will always be

far up above the place he thinks to dream as earth.

There float the heavenly

archaic persons of primordial birth,

held in the scan of ancient serpent's tooth,

locked in the mind as when it first began.


Inside I am the other of a self,

who feels a presence always close at hand,

one side or the other, knows another one

unlocks the door and quickly enters in.

Either as or, we live a common person.

Two is still one. It cannot live apart.


Oh, weep for me --

all from whom life has stolen

hopes of a happiness stored

in gold's ubiquitous pattern,

in tinkle of commodious, enduring money,

else the bee's industry in hives of golden honey.


He is safely put

in a container, head to foot,

and there, on his upper part, wears still

remnants of a life he lived at will --

but, lower down, he probes at that doubled sack

holds all his random virtues in a mindless fact.


The forms wait, swan,

elephant, crab, rabbit, horse, monkey, cow,

squirrel and crocodile. From the one

sits in empty consciousness, all seemingly has come

and now it goes, to regather,

to tell another story to its patient mother.


Reflection reforms, each man's a life,

makes its stumbling way from mother to wife --

cast as a gesture from ignorant flesh,

here writes in fumbling words to touch,

say, how can I be,

when she is all that was ever me


Around and in --

And up and down again,

and far and near --

and here and there,

in the middle is

a great round nothingness.


Not metaphoric,

flesh is literal earth.

turns to dust

as all the body must,

becomes the ground

wherein the seed's passed on.


Entries, each foot feels its own way,

echoes passage in persons,

holds the body upright,

the secret of thresholds, lintels,

opening body above it,

looks up, looks down, moves forward.


Necessity, the mother of invention,

father of intention,

sister to brother to sister, to innumerable others,

all one as the time comes,

death's appointment,

in the echoing head, in the breaking heart.


In self one's place defined,

in heart the other find.

In mind discover I,

in body find the sky.

Sleep in the dream as one,

wake to the others there found.


Emptying out

each complicating part,

each little twist of mind inside,

each clenched fist,

each locked, particularizing thought,

forgotten, emptying out.


What did it feel like

to be one at a time --

to be caught in a mind

in the body you'd found

in yourself alone --

in each other one?


Broken hearts, a curious round of echoes --

and there behind them the old garden

with its faded, familiar flowers,

where all was seemingly laced together --

a trueness of true,

a blueness of blue.


The truth is in a container

of no size or situation.

It has nothing


Worship --

Warship. Sail away.


Learn to Play Songs by Ear: Ear Training

122 Free Video Tutorials

[Video Tutorial] How to build google chrome extensions

Please add me on youtube. I make free educational video tutorials on youtube such as Basic HTML and CSS.

Free Online Education from Top Universities

Yes! It's true. Online College Education is now free!

||| Analysis | Critique | Overview Below |||

There have been no submitted criqiques, be the first to add one below.

Post your Analysis


Free Online Education from Top Universities

Yes! It's true. College Education is now free!

Most common keywords

Clemente's Images Analysis Robert Creeley critical analysis of poem, review school overview. Analysis of the poem. literary terms. Definition terms. Why did he use? short summary describing. Clemente's Images Analysis Robert Creeley Characters archetypes. Sparknotes bookrags the meaning summary overview critique of explanation pinkmonkey. Quick fast explanatory summary. pinkmonkey free cliffnotes cliffnotes ebook pdf doc file essay summary literary terms analysis professional definition summary synopsis sinopsis interpretation critique Clemente's Images Analysis Robert Creeley itunes audio book mp4 mp3 mit ocw Online Education homework forum help

Poetry 112
Poetry 83
Poetry 160
Poetry 42
Poetry 216
Poetry 54
Poetry 183
Poetry 95
Poetry 205
Poetry 188
Poetry 170
Poetry 128
Poetry 98
Poetry 90
Poetry 85
Poetry 132
Poetry 27
Poetry 140
Poetry 5
Poetry 212