This is the poem that I have read more than any other. I keep it at my desk now for calming purposes. Lovely how the power of poetry can take or bend subject matter that may not be pretty and make it so. With rhythm.
“Man Carrying Thing”
by Wallace Stevens
The poem must resist intelligence
Almost successfully. Illustration:
A brune figure in winter evening resists
Identity. The thing he carries resists
The most necessitous sense. Accept them, then,
As secondary (parts not quite perceived
Of the obvious whole, uncertain particles
Of the certain solid, the primary free from doubt
Things floating like the first hundred flakes of snow
Out of a storm we must endure all night,
Out of a storm of secondary things),
A horror of thoughts that suddenly are real.
We must endure our thoughts all night, until
The bright obvious stands motionless in cold.
BLONDE ON BLONDE 