William Graham

William Graham Poems

In the misty mornings,
When the birds’ sweet calls ring,
I am filled with primordial dread
That the past is never dead.
...

In my twelfth year, my declaration of independence
Came as I sunk into a worn red leather chair
Under the spinning fan in a public library
On a blistering Midwest summer day.
...

Arctic moon—you rise like a cold memory
From the bleak black boiling sea.

Arctic moon—your yellow light dances
...

She had a maple forest smell.
She was a celebrant of light.
In her polished eyes did dwell
An appetite for delight.
...

He soared like a hawk over Central Park.
He glided gracefully into his Hamptons home.
At a whim he would on a weekend embark
To beach in the south of France, where he roamed
...

Amidst the times that should be full of mirth,
When sparkling rays of sun sweeten the earth,
Evil intrudes to blacken the bright sky.
A child dies and morality is defied.
...

When the phone rings, do not fear;
It will be the rich man who calls.
It will not be my voice you hear.
...

Please pass me a sharp knife
So I can end this holiday conversation
With a surgical slice to my wrist.
...

Dusk has dropped to its knees;
I see the last sparks of the sun in your eyes.

We watch the sharp stars slide
...

Will I weep when you are gone?
I am not a man for tears.
Will people think I am cold
Or nobly stoic as the mourners
...

11.

Look at me! I have been hollowed
Out like a pumpkin sitting on a porch
At Halloween. The seeds of ambition
Have been scooped away and discarded.
...

As you slumber in warm sheets on a cold winter morning,
He tosses newspapers from his ten-year-old car.
His skin—tanned from the steamy Mexican sun—
Is assaulted by the whipping cold. Up and down
...

The state swaddles dissenters in Old Glory,
Hoping for silent submission and docility.
If we squeal a contrary thought,
We are labeled an unpatriotic lot.
...

He veered out of Texas by way of Yale
With a message both dangerous and stale.
He sought to lead the national government;
He had no clue of what governing meant.
...

William Graham Biography

William Graham holds a BA and MA in English and a MS in Communications from Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. He is the author of eight poetry volumes: 'Vox Publica'; 'Terra Incognita'; 'The Places You Can Go: Poems for Children'; 'Amoricon and Other Poems'; 'Smugglers’ Notch: New England Poems'; 'The Sweetest Swing: Baseball Poems'; 'Interlude'; and 'Work: Labor Poems.' Four novels for children: 'Danny Boyle and the Underland'; 'Danny Boyle and the Ghosts of Ireland'; 'The Boy with the Golden Arm'; and 'Volcano Island'. Two novels for adults: the murder mystery 'Fire and Ice' and the political thriller 'Newfoundland Sagas'. All of his books are available on the Amazon website (www.amazon.con) .)

The Best Poem Of William Graham

Paradise

In the misty mornings,
When the birds’ sweet calls ring,
I am filled with primordial dread
That the past is never dead.

Remembrance haunts us in the faces
We see—unwelcome traces
Of discordant conversations—
Of ill-advised consummations.

Can we not box up the past in paradise?
Put it where it will be chewed by mice?
Then there will be iron-hulled bliss,
Instead of your cold, indifferent kiss.

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