The Christening

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1. Disobedience James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George Dupree Took great Care of his Mother, Though he was only three. James James Said to his Mother, “Mother,” he said, said he; “You must never go down To the end of the town, If you don’t go down with me.” James James Morrison’s Mother Put on a golden […]...
2. The Twins There were two brothers, John and James, And when the town went up in flames, To save the house of James dashed John, Then turned, and lo! his own was gone. And when the great World War began, To volunteer John promptly ran; And while he learned live bombs to lob, James stayed at home […]...
3. John Evereldown “Where are you going to-night, to-night, Where are you going, John Evereldown? There’s never the sign of a star in sight, Nor a lamp that’s nearer than Tilbury Town. Why do you stare as a dead man might? Where are you pointing away from the light? And where are you going to-night, to-night, Where are […]...
4. Losers IF I should pass the tomb of Jonah I would stop there and sit for awhile; Because I was swallowed one time deep in the dark And came out alive after all. If I pass the burial spot of Nero I shall say to the wind, “Well, well!”- I who have fiddled in a world […]...
5. The Naming Of Cats The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter, It isn’t just one of your holiday games; You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES. First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily, Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or […]...
6. The Methodist Says Tom to Jack, ’tis very odd, These representatives of God, In color, way of life and evil, Should be so very like the devil. Jack, understand, was one of those, Who mould religion in the rose, A red hot methodist; his face Was full of puritanic grace, His loose lank hair, his slow gradation, […]...
7. Jack's Legacy The critic gushed and said, “Just like Jack, So raw, I never thought to see another writer just Like Kerouac!” Kerouac, who the fuck is he? A writer? Christ, that’s a laugh, compare me to a writer! Let’s face it I’m no hack, I’m not so much to look at either, But maybe Jack took […]...
8. Familiarity Familiarity some claim Can breed contempt, So from it let it be your aim To be exempt. Let no one exercise his brawn To slap your back, Lest he forget your name is John, And call you Jack. To those who crash your private pew Be sour as krout; Don’t let them see the real […]...
9. A Bush Christening On the outer Barcoo where the churches are few, And men of religion are scanty, On a road never cross’d ‘cept by folk that are lost, One Michael Magee had a shanty. Now this Mike was the dad of a ten year old lad, Plump, healthy, and stoutly conditioned; He was strong as the best, […]...
10. An Adventure in the Life of King James V of Scotland On one occasion King James the Fifth of Scotland, when alone, in disguise, Near by the Bridge of Cramond met with rather a disagreeable surprise. He was attacked by five gipsy men without uttering a word, But he manfully defended himself with his sword. There chanced to be a poor man threshing corn in a […]...
11. The Story of Uriah Jack Barrett went to Quetta Because they told him to. He left his wife at Simla On three-fourths his monthly screw. Jack Barrett died at Quetta Ere the next month’s pay he drew. Jack Barrett went to Quetta. He didn’t understand The reason of his transfer From the pleasant mountain-land. The season was September, And […]...
12. John Anderson John Anderson, my jo John, When we were first acquent Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent; But now your brow is bald, John, Your locks are like the snow; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo! John Anderson, my jo John, We clamb the hill thegither, And […]...
13. 271. Song-John Anderson, My Jo JOHN ANDERSON, my jo, John, When we were first acquent; Your locks were like the raven, Your bonie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John, Your locks are like the snaw; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo. John Anderson, my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither; And […]...
14. The Rum Tum Tugger The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat: If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse. If you put him in a house he would much prefer a flat, If you put him in a flat then he’d rather have a house. If you set him on a mouse then he only wants […]...
15. The Frog Be kind and tender to the Frog, And do not call him names, As “Slimy skin,” or “Polly-wog,” Or likewise “Ugly James,” Or “Gap-a-grin,” or “Toad-gone-wrong,” Or “Bill Bandy-knees”: The Frog is justly sensitive To epithets like these. No animal will more repay A treatment kind and fair; At least so lonely people say Who […]...
16. Jack Dunn of Nevertire It chanced upon the very day we’d got the shearing done, A buggy brought a stranger to the West-o’-Sunday Run; He had a round and jolly face, and he was sleek and stout, He drove right up between the huts and called the super out. We chaps were smoking after tea, and heard the swell […]...
17. Brothers How lovely the elder brother’s Life all laced in the other’s, Lóve-laced!-what once I well Witnessed; so fortune fell. When Shrovetide, two years gone, Our boys’ plays brought on Part was picked for John, Young Jóhn: then fear, then joy Ran revel in the elder boy. Their night was come now; all Our company thronged […]...
18. Jack Honest, or the Widow and Her Son Jack Honest was only eight years of age when his father died, And by the death of his father, Mrs Honest was sorely tried; And Jack was his father’s only joy and pride, And for honesty Jack couldn’t be equalled in the country-side. So a short time before Jack’s father died, ‘Twas loud and bitterly […]...
19. Crazy Jane And The Bishop Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head Because of my dear Jack that’s dead. Coxcomb was the least he said: The solid man and the coxcomb. Nor was he Bishop when his ban Banished Jack the Journeyman, […]...
20. Hallelujah: A Sestina A wind’s word, the Hebrew Hallelujah. I wonder they never gave it to a boy (Hal for short) boy with wind-wild hair. It means Praise God, as well it should since praise Is what God’s for. Why didn’t they call my father Hallelujah instead of Ebenezer? Eben, of course, but christened Ebenezer, Product of Nova […]...
21. Horse Fiddle FIRST I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted in the teeth of a strong wind. Next I would like to write one for you to sit on a hill and read down the river valley on a late summer afternoon, reading it in less than a whisper to Jack on […]...
22. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
23. Imanuel Ehrenhardt I began with Sir William Hamilton’s lectures. Then studied Dugald Stewart; And then John Locke on the Understanding, And then Descartes, Fichte and Schelling, Kant and then Schopenhauer Books I borrowed from old Judge Somers. All read with rapturous industry Hoping it was reserved to me To grasp the tail of the ultimate secret, And […]...
24. The Dream Said Will: “I’ll stay and till the land.” Said Jack: “I’ll sail the sea.” So one went forth kit-bag in hand, The other ploughed the lea. They met again at Christmas-tide, And wistful were the two. Said Jack: “you’re lucky here to bide.” Said Will: “I envy you.” “For in your eyes a light I […]...
25. THE SINGING SCHOOL The Poetry School, The Poetry Book Society, The Poetry Business: So much poetry about you’d think I’d want to shout, “Hurray, hurray, Every day’s Poetry Day!” but I don’t and you don’t either- You know its flim-flam on the ether, grants for Jack-the-lads Of both sexes, poets who’ve never been seen in a little magazine […]...
26. The Sonnets To Orpheus: Book 2: VI Rose, you majesty-once, to the ancients, you were Just a calyx with the simplest of rims. But for us, you are the full, the numberless flower, The inexhaustible countenance. In your wealth you seem to be wearing gown upon gown Upon a body of nothing but light; Yet each seperate petal is at the same […]...
27. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
28. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
29. Lost in the Prairie In one of fhe States of America, some years ago, There suddenly came on a violent storm of snow, Which was nearly the death of a party of workmen, Who had finished their day’s work – nine or ten of them. The distance was nearly twenty miles to their camp, And with the thick falling […]...
30. Happiness John had Great Big Waterproof Boots on; John had a Great Big Waterproof Hat; John had a Great Big Waterproof Mackintosh And that (Said John) Is That....
31. John Rouat the Fisherman Margaret Simpson was the daughter of humble parents in the county of Ayr, With a comely figure, and face of beauty rare, And just in the full bloom of her womanhood, Was united to John Rouat, a fisherman good. John’s fortune consisted of his coble, three oars, and his fishing-gear, Besides his two stout boys, […]...
32. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say […]...
33. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
34. WELCOME HOME ‘Leeds welcomes you’ in flowers Garlanding the white stuccoed tower Of City Station: red on green As poetry’s demon seizes me, Upending all ordures of order. ‘Haworth Moor, Haworth Moor’ Echoes and re-echoes under the Dark Arches Where the Aire gurgles and swirls In eddies of Jack the Ripper, cloud-hopping Jumping Jack Flash but Jack’s […]...
35. Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho’s we admire no more: Fate doom’d the Fall of ev’ry Female Wit, But doom’d it then when first Ardelia writ. Of all Examples by the World confest, I knew Ardelia could not quote the best; Who, like her Mistress on Britannia’s Throne; Fights, […]...
36. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
37. The Little Big Man I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am As old as my father is. My teacher will come and say, “It is late, bring your slate And your books.” I shall tell him, ” Do you not know I am as big as father? And I must […]...
38. Wagner Creeps in half wanton, half asleep, One with a fat wide hairless face. He likes love-music that is cheap; Likes women in a crowded place; And wants to hear the noise they’re making. His heavy eyelids droop half-over, Great pouches swing beneath his eyes. He listens, thinks himself the lover, Heaves from his stomach wheezy […]...
39. Theme In Yellow I spot the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins. On the last of October When dusk is fallen Children join hands And circle round me Singing ghost songs And love to the harvest moon; I am a jack-o’-lantern With terrible […]...
40. Henry James Who comes to-night? We open the doors in vain. Who comes? My bursting walls, can you contain The presences that now together throng Your narrow entry, as with flowers and song, As with the air of life, the breath of talk? Lo, how these fair immaculate women walk Behind their jocund maker; and we see […]...