A Book Full of Pictures
Father studied theology through the mail
And this was exam time.
Mother knitted. I sat quietly with a book
Full of pictures. Night fell.
My hands grew cold touching the faces
Of dead kings and queens.
There was a black raincoat
in the upstairs bedroom
Swaying from the ceiling,
But what was it doing there?
Mother's long needles made quick crosses.
They were black
Like the inside of my head just then.
The pages I turned sounded like wings.
"The soul is a bird," he once said.
In my book full of pictures
A battle raged: lances and swords
Made a kind of wintry forest
With my heart spiked and bleeding in its branches.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A Book Full of Pictures by Charles Simic )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(7 March 1819 – 1889)
William Carlos Williams
(17 September 1883 – 4 March 1963)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
- The Saddest Poem, Pablo Neruda
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- A Case Of Murder, Vernon Scannell
- A Little While, Dante Gabriel Rossetti
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Candadi Kelidara Vistara, Shishunala Sharif
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- I Knew a Woman, Theodore Roethke
- Beautiful Inside, Paul Holmes
Poem of the Day
- Afghanistanstuck, Ima Ryma
- To Speak With You II, Edward Kofi Louis
- To Speak With You, Edward Kofi Louis
- Virtuous Acts, Leong Ming Loong
- Your Paradise Is Met, Naveed Akram
- Who Needs Rains In Heaven?, G. AKANJI OLANIYI
- Prevention is better than cure, Leong Ming Loong
- Twittering Among Feelings, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Living Passion, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Love Magic, Col Muhamad Khalid Khan