The Knife Poem by Keith Douglas

The Knife

Rating: 3.6


Can I explain this to you? Your eyes
are entrances the mouths of caves
I issue from wonderful interiors
upon a blessed sea and a fine day,
from inside these caves I look and dream.

Your hair explicable as a waterfall
in some black liquid cooled by legend
fell across my thought in a moment
became a garment I am naked without
lines drawn across through morning and evening.

And in your body each minute I died
moving your thigh could disinter me
from a grave in a distant city:
your breasts deserted by cloth, clothed in twilight
filled me with tears, sweet cups of flesh.

Yes, to touch two fingers made us worlds
stars, waters, promontories, chaos
swooning in elements without form or time
come down through long seas among sea marvels
embracing like survivors in our islands.

This I think happened to us together
though now no shadow of it flickers in your hands
your eyes look down on ordinary streets
If I talk to you I might be a bird
with a message, a dead man, a photograph.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Terry Craddock 30 April 2015

Exquisite poetry... Can I explain this to you? Your eyes are entrances the mouths of caves I issue from wonderful interiors an investigation of this poem, these lines, is to enter wonderful worlds of imagination 10+++

4 0 Reply
Terry Craddock 30 April 2015

POEM: The Knife by Keith Douglas Exquisite poetry... Can I explain this to you? Your eyes are entrances the mouths of caves I issue from wonderful interiors an investigation of this poem, these lines, is to enter wonderful worlds of imagination 10+++

3 0 Reply
M Asim Nehal 25 November 2016

The height of love.....a lovely poem 10+++

1 0 Reply
Kumarmani Mahakul 19 March 2018

Touching expression. Beautiful poem shared.

1 0 Reply
Practicing Poetess 19 March 2018

A most creative, beautifully deep poem about love. I would enjoy reading more of his works! Rightfully deserving of Poem of the Day.

3 0 Reply
Susan Williams 19 March 2018

The poet lived from January 24,1920 – June 9,1944? ? ? ? That is only 24 years of life to draw on for experience, wisdom, and eternal truths.. Well, he certainly lived with passion as the young tend to do: .And in your body each minute I died moving your thigh could disinter me from a grave in a distant city your deserted by cloth, clothed in twilight filled me with tears, sweet cups of flesh. The whole poem is the work of an artist with words his palette.

1 0 Reply
Rajnish Manga 19 March 2018

I will remember this poem for its supple portrayal of love and sensuousness. Thanks.

2 0 Reply
Subhas Chandra Chakra 19 March 2018

Beautiful expression. Such a nice sharing.

0 0 Reply
Bernard F. Asuncion 19 March 2018

Such a profound poem by Keith Douglas👍👍👍

1 0 Reply
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Keith Douglas

Keith Douglas

Tunbridge Wells, Kent
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