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September 23rd, 2014 - we have 234 poets, 8,025 poems and 278,943 comments.
John Berryman - Dream Song 49: Blind

Old Pussy-cat if he won't eat, he don't
feel good into his tum', old Pussy-cat.
He wants to have eaten.
Tremor, heaves, he sweaterings. He can't.
A dizzy swims of where is Henry at;
. . . somewhere streng verboten.

How come he sleeps & sleeps and sleeps, waking like death:
locate the restorations of which we hear
as of profound sleep.
From daylight he got maintrackt, from friends' breath,
wishes, his hopings. Dreams make crawl with fear
Henry but not get up.

The course his mind his body steer, poor Pussy-cat,
in weakness & disorder, will see him down
whiskers & tail.
'Wastethrift': Oh one of cunning wives know that
he hoardy-squander, where is nor downtown
neither suburba. Braille.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 3146 times | Comments and analysis of Dream Song 49: Blind by John Berryman Comments (2)

Dream Song 49: Blind - Comments and Information

Poet: John Berryman
Poem: 49. Dream Song 49: Blind
Volume: 77 Dream Songs
Year: Published/Written in 1964
Poem of the Day: Nov 6 2012

Comment 2 of 2, added on July 19th, 2014 at 4:41 AM.
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Comment 1 of 2, added on November 6th, 2012 at 12:52 AM.
comment

My goldfinch and the neighbor’s cat:
The little boy at parents’ nest safe and lulled in caring hands,
In semi desert in the midlands, For birds and birds there he stands
At talk of cats the breath I hold and childhood years I behold,
When the first love of little boy, as he stepped at the threshold,
Lived in his heart and dreaming eyes the sweetest birds as they fly,
What songs flew and lovely airs! freely flutter like butterfly.
Within that love and enchantment the boy grew greatest skills
Of catching birds on nearby hills or on tree twig and never kills.
Of sweetest love, a goldfinch; Black, red and white and yellow wings
The captive pearl kept in a cage. And little boy forgot all things
To soar high up with melodies Of Gardellino’s calls of despair
Silvery twits and trill medleys Calling the flocks in nearby air.
Until the day when neighbor’s cat In the beloved showed interest
The feline claws and sharpest teeth playing around with fiercest lust,
Mischievous eyes as all are dreaming stealthily crept on tiptoes,
With swiftest jump on a frail prey In the boys heart left deepest woes,
On summer dawn feathers were floating, the wrecked cage on the floor,
A drop of blood left on a stair and goldfinch songs are there no more.
Altair Laahad (All Rights Reserved)


Altair Laahad

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