Samuel Greenberg: American Poet
the poet seeks an earth in himself

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The Sick Sleuth Sonnets

Peace | Enviroment | Illusive Evolution | Weak Wonders

The Undertone | Fear | Fame of Revealment | Purity | Divine Scent

Other poems from the same notebook

A Night at Westerhoff | The Tusks of Blood | O gaze untold Dear Kopeiran

[ more poems ]

For a copy of the set that you can read offline or print out, download the PDF version.



Ho - Ho have lake's plum placivity
The good searching sire, has left self's life
What ray singing quiry, can he untwine
The boast of Nature's pool rippling strife
There lies he Bound to its wound - too fine
For Bosomed love's belief - Faith fears aid
From the tension sought, to hide this braid
And, his, just this little return surface
Be-weighs a guide, of luke airs perfume
That holds moments fire, beauties tomb
O absent shore of take, take all - all
That I can here forsake, thou uncharts
With Brief upon tide, swallows Heavens waste,
Yet he who wanders leaves never this mighty fall

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It hath came, to show his plow
The forth wending jaw, of 'frain unjust
O pack! what is this here and now
The bowl effort claim, making ust
The limping thigh, dromes the plague
Phrase, O broad love unclothed old
My lamb like form feels hourly vague
Though ceaseing tales that restless mold
That paveing pawn asks the wild seed
That sprouts in like cover painfully seen
There steels a moaning ghost to heal
Self disturbanse, tho, a nurse doth kneel
The calm withholds, prords chime alone
That taste solid images, into a soft silent throne

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illusive evolution

What traveling grace halts you to know
Abuse from woes turning grasp of ween
And ever Natures proof - pends a whiring
show - That shades, the lustre tree
From Kin, the turban claims of prime
That hold the bettered hopeful slime
That never reals, into helpful glee
But kills the colored windy scent
through such marvel growths unbent
By the riches of shape and gloss
We happy feel a lusive love
From the state of wonder assume
Ah yet he who spells rest untold
Brings thither, the soil of foriegn mold

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weak wonders

On board, of startling pain set he!
Cholera; my sticking life aye wee!
The peace stands all trifling shame
Here silent sore of stagnant ever halt
Tender angel sweeit, come thither Nearby
From where can'st thou seek an over sigh
The shed of beauty swan past in clouds
While the singing thrush, wept, flapping floats
Should I also help thee slay the storm
Of winters proof - on mmountains twilight leave
O seat, this pointing fingered soul plays
As seat, this pointing fingered soul plays
As this music mute stuff safe lays
In the low and high, or in medium ways

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the undertone

The cellar of the priest, the unburdened crave
He could sing the song of the the wild knave
That throws the Beaming sand upon the
Clime of the sun's unbreasted gloom
What was this joy fettered dry flameing zone
And remember, the gaze was not for now
It seemed to tell the lore of blossoms vow
And loose wonder strains on beneath,
that, no letter can place the wreath
or seek the refuge, of creation's crawl
By your meek tendon to bare it, in thrall
There seems to stay a glass colored will
The only taste is this sensual fire still
That sorrow's glow, love, and the pounding thrill

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There fled the opening ditch from sooth
What giveing palpitates to hold its loath
The Bulky mass of real Barren waste
Let thee feel a tool, for him the last,
Awaken self conscious wakening pride
Again suspends thee for a "chick" denied
Ah calls thither the dream of sickly look
From whence your heart builds emblems
to rebuke, tries to share the prison spells
That clombs beneath loves expressive cells
Who leaves answers prime of lust desired
To show the great deeds of wonder lyred
Then just flitters apt for cleaving lay
Here toils amend, share's woeful way,

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Fame of revealment

Nigh, to salves faultered percurity
Leaves shade through cantors immunity
What wintered gaze, of lingered sighs
Prays the pankered Birds, meekly plies
The mocking stem of Beauty formed
Assists the strength of appdeasement 'dorned
O such over baring seem beyond his scent
tales His memory, comes widly to comment
Still asking reasons charm, my feeling fails
when still above the calm glaze approves
Nor to frame the least, that captives mood
Let not this Band the fettered chill
Whence joy sails even over mingled will
Here leave this misty catch unceasing Hood

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On to silence, where rest Bewarms
Seated, celest, though much Beguiles
The faur of Human motion intwines
The Lustre of lifes stirring combines
Not to wave the secrets pass of lure
Unpalled By fancy gestures footing veer
What traits of keeping track asafe
From such loud liveing banning waif
Yet recalls of pleasures innerT behold
From painting , sculptures or foriegn mold
The case of sounding wind. By tightly shores
That treats a just minds lowly moors
What madness can apply in such winged
Prize as to Be but the hem skin idealize

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Divine scent

There shed slightly the upper stall
While faint plying senet shade did lead
What leaped so heavy under this all
Lets thee empty, not of cause to heed
The wandering soul claims the kingdoms tear
The wise soul bind theis aged weir
And the Blind inebriat spirit merely feels
Wishes that all would rot and peace
Beyond reels - Yet pain speaks for pain
While each fibres travel powerfully in vein
Not knowing what Befalls the charm he's seen
through grinding tolls that list of sprouts
All honor bares its stamp, untill it shouts
Thou fiegn of glideing, tideing, husling ween

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A Night at Westerhoff
Paterson N. J.

Arrives the timid creature --
That was I, as cracked ice seen
By those who are skating Happy
and unpleasantly, The goaling
fear Before the entire night
There blew a wind, that sawed
wood for prayer through the space
and charted the felonious
phantomistic window shade
glasses, unmercifully, yuen
The seiving ariving was
merely making one feel
Limited from noise and
curiousity, here my wing
cannot stay so short so I
leave, no sleep - no comfort
From the self - still amiable
The might again prowls to my
HearT, - O tomb of lovely pitch
Immensity - do you love
this last open eye or do you
think we can Be well as
you place yourself - you
can een hear the perch of
The dutch stork in fowl land
You tell me of the miser's
ocean mint, the city as in
Dreamingland lost from
explaination, and yet keep
soothing me that many more
are selfishly defettered, --
wo! you sweep you shave the
Bony nerves e'en the plenty meat
to trot thither the silent
airy Blow in the Blast
gloom of immortality!

SBG 1916

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The tusks of Blood

Therin I begin, what avail?
My chant must enclose hell
And yet here leave behind
Myself of touch and vow
My hour has come when
The Brief song of the Greek gails
Have found the inner teeth alone
Here listen, someone is calling
Why the ugly praise and fate
Shall I be a joiner to this
And leave Here the good hope
Not to prank the lucky star
I'll apologize, wait untill
The great way works for Woe!
Woe - never you parsival boob
never, and by the trait of love's
Light shell, sheering outpour
Not to Blame, - wait, a travel
For an exuse, a good life lay
and the real actions, the pomped
Horn, - and the pardons of a
door - Hell the word what
interfereing clashed love rules
My thoughts mix in Brownings
Pool IceHearsels, not to phasing
of rearing love on wings - send
here another wonder pestive 'plore
shall I write o anger hast thou
Not treated thy refuging forbare
The prink orb honey - the brattle!
not to leave o poet aye form!
thy mongolien fringe of foul perfume
The falling off - weep for a keep
that o shade salons its pierce
Perhaps I can walk a bit
To my truthful vein and relate
The sport of the steeds that trot
The stiring mucsles of an earthly
gait, and my hearted glow
O worm - worm-heated soil
peal sad mereing folds
There cometh a home afar
and again a slow fainting glow
glideing over a path, - easily seen
god - some voice disturbs me
from the inner room - and
Believe - a she and aged she
Yet Telling her moments forbide
In a soft voice, trifle heavy
another aged crankling noise
sitting her defence of knowledge
poh! knowledge, - the last of god
O no I mean my own surprise
spoke the first - here left
in her virtues returns andad
I catch the subject - Death!
- Death, what a careless value
to such aged spirits, again
a sad remark, - Life not valued
By such retired souls, who
should Be apart to Believe
justice, - uh man not thy boast
who shall reform eer divein
Proof, e'er we save sal brun
He was a marked lad
Who poorly helped himself
What should this mean
Fill your pockets - I'll let
You know the grass of a grave
no punch, the care was society
O pillars of silk and good tea
Confusion of women, the Bare bust
ambarrassment, - carnal filth
of its justice, lacks invironment
O creaking earth, necessity, hell
No more wise then the next child
of Herald, what can he give?
What can he give?
Yon pallid stork - gazing -
who gazed before you cooled
the summer spray for the shoulder
Very bad for an apt jew to claim
everlasting renaissance, what
a delivery was this from good
conduct and prizeing anthology
Sucked By secret gilded creatures
who slew gold for a memBranes
iontumination, dilapidation
Blott erst in vampiration
O tears sped into the basin
of a louvre groose design
Potting the grissley ullalumie
Of sparkling night aghast in silence
repairing the sidewalk
and steel frames avast
The pillar brick Block
And the pipes swift pain
Of the boiling steam shocks
Uplifting - high - decent
Yon - endless wretch of silver
and clouded fogs of news
Ah no blesses misgiveing
For all returns, my story
will But insist you away
from your self, and before it
is over, a saying - quick, a
teacher - a teacher, where is
he - where lord a teacher
preacher, unBleacher, come
quick, we searched, O
forgive - your wisdom I forgot,
my own, likes less then
it can take for give --

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[O gaze untold Dear Kopeiran]

O gaze untold Dear Kopeiran
  I Barely could utter fiegn
By the trace of Beauty O Kopeiran
  I drank By the shores of the main

again wickedly I sought
From whence can I reBuke
such pain that soiled the sheal
that veered the locus of pregnance
and sent him alone to yeald

I wandered alone to the desert
  and found the fever dry
But the flower that swept By Bliss
Is still Blown and unsought at thee nigh

But amid slumber I sealed aweep
  as I crept for a phantom thought
That could seal e'en Heavens leaking
From more earths and stars that are wrought

O Line of truce
Can'st thou Hasten to regaze
As the angle that marketh the seed
And feeds its lowly phase

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The banner quote at the top of the page ("the poet seeks an earth in himself") is from Greenberg's poem "Fred".

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