Dylan Thomas Poems

All all and all the dry worlds lever,
Stage of the ice, the solid ocean,
All from the oil, the pound of lava.
City of spring, the governed flower,
...

After the funeral, mule praises, brays,
Windshake of sailshaped ears, muffle-toed tap
Tap happily of one peg in the thick
Grave's foot, blinds down the lids, the teeth in black,
...

On almost the incendiary eve
Of several near deaths,
When one at the great least of your best loved
And always known must leave
...

A stranger has come
To share my room in the house not right in the head,
A girl mad as birds
...

Altarwise by owl-light in the half-way house
The gentleman lay graveward with his furies;
Abaddon in the hangnail cracked from Adam,
And, from his fork, a dog among the fairies,
...

Ears in the turrets hear
Hands grumble on the door,
Eyes in the gables see
The fingers at the locks.
...

In my craft or sullen art
Exercised in the still night
When only the moon rages
And the lovers lie abed
...

When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
...

Before I knocked and flesh let enter,
With liquid hands tapped on the womb,
I who was as shapeless as the water
That shaped the Jordan near my home
...

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
...