Wallace Stevens

(October 2, 1879 – August 2, 1955 / Pennsylvania / United States)

Wallace Stevens Poems

1. Repetitions of a Young Captain 11/9/2015
2. The Auroras of Autumn 11/9/2015
3. Sea Surface Full Of Clouds 11/9/2015
4. Oak Leaves are Hands 11/9/2015
5. Poetry Is A Destructive Force 4/14/2015
6. Tea At The Palaz Of Hoon 12/17/2014
7. Table Talk 2/28/2011
8. The Man With The Blue Guitar 3/12/2015
9. No Possum, No Sop, No Taters 3/25/2015
10. Phases 4/5/2010
11. Study Of Two Pears 4/5/2010
12. The Man On The Dump 4/5/2010
13. What Is Divinity 4/5/2010
14. Contrary Theses (Ii) 4/5/2010
15. The Death Of A Soldier 4/5/2010
16. Hymn From A Watermelon Pavilion 4/5/2010
17. It Must Give Pleasure 4/5/2010
18. The Sense Of The Sleight-Of-Hand Man 1/13/2003
19. Frogs Eat Butterflies, Snakes Eat Frogs, Hogs Eat Snakes, Men Eat Hogs 4/5/2010
20. To The One Of Fictive Music 1/13/2003
21. In The Carolinas 4/5/2010
22. The Man Whose Pharynx Was Bad 1/3/2003
23. Le Monocle De Mon Oncle 4/5/2010
24. Two Figures In Dense Violet Light 1/3/2003
25. The High-Toned Old Christian Woman 1/20/2003
26. Farewell To Florida 4/5/2010
27. The Well Dressed Man With A Beard 1/13/2003
28. A Postcard From The Volcano 4/5/2010
29. The Poem That Took The Place Of A Mountain 1/1/2004
30. Valley Candle 1/3/2003
31. The Plot Against The Giant 1/3/2003
32. Another Weeping Woman 4/5/2010
33. The River Of Rivers In Connecticut 1/3/2003
34. A Disillusionment Of Ten O'Clock 4/5/2010
35. A Rabbit As King Of The Ghosts 4/5/2010
36. Six Significant Landscapes 1/13/2003
37. The House Was Quiet And The World Was Calm 1/13/2003
38. Peter Quince At The Clavier 1/3/2003
39. Poem Written At Morning 1/3/2003
40. Tattoo 1/13/2003
Best Poem of Wallace Stevens

The Emperor Of Ice-Cream

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal.
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its ...

Read the full of The Emperor Of Ice-Cream

Poem Written At Morning

A sunny day's complete Poussiniana
Divide it from itself. It is this or that
And it is not.
By metaphor you paint
A thing. Thus, the pineapple was a leather fruit,
A fruit for pewter, thorned and palmed and blue,
To be served by men of ice.
The senses paint
By metaphor. The juice was fragranter

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