Elegy

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1. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
2. Dead poet I’m sure it would be easier to survive as a dead poet, I mean it in the surmise that I won’t be tempted To revise or rewrite the poem I wrote last night, or the Poems I wrote last week (which make me cringe when I Read them again), or when I read poetry of […]...
3. An Almost Made Up Poem I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny Blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny They are small, and the fountain is in France Where you wrote me that last letter and I answered and never heard from you again. You used to write insane poems about ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper […]...
4. Elegy Upon Tiger Her dead lady’s joy and comfort, Who departed this life The last day of March, 1727: To the great joy of Bryan That his antagonist is gone. And is poor Tiger laid at last so low? O day of sorrow! – Day of dismal woe! Bloodhounds, or spaniels, lap-dogs, ’tis all one, When Death once […]...
5. Poetry it Takes A lot of Desperation Dissatisfaction And Disillusion To Write A Few Good Poems. It’s not For Everybody Either to Write It Or even to Read It....
6. Elephant Dormitory An elephant went to bed and pulled a crazy quilt up under Its tusks. But just as the great gray head began filling with the gray Wrinkles of sleep it was awakened by the thud of its tail Falling out of bed. Would you get my tail? said the elephant to another Elephant also tucked […]...
7. At the Zoo There are lions and roaring tigers, And enormous camels and things, There are biffalo-buffalo-bisons, And a great big bear with wings. There’s a sort of a tiny potamus, And a tiny nosserus too – But I gave buns to the elephant When I went down to the Zoo! There are badgers and bidgers and bodgers, […]...
8. The Drunkard from St. Ambrose He fears the tiger standing in his way. The tiger takes its time, it smiles and growls. Like moons, the two blank eyes tug at his bowels. “God help me now,” is all that he can say. “God help me now, how close I’ve come to God. To love and to be […]...
9. Poet's Path My garden hath a slender path With ivy overgrown, A secret place where once would pace A pot all alone; I see him now with fretted brow, Plunged deep in thought; And sometimes he would write maybe, And sometimes he would not. A verse a day he used to say Keeps worry from the door; […]...
10. Hostel Beach, Oneroa The cliff sprang from the sea at end of Hostel Beach, If the tide was out you’d reach a tiny bay beyond The cape without wet feet, an easy stroll but too effete For blood as hot as ours. We watched it at full flood; A risky place to contemplate the games we planned, We […]...
11. Loch Katrine Beautiful Loch Katrine in all thy majesty so grand, Oh! how charming and fascinating is thy silver strand! Thou certainly art most lovely, and worthy to be seen, Especially thy beautiful bay and shrubberies green. Then away to Loch Katrine in the summer time, And feast on its scenery most lovely and sublime; There’s no […]...
12. The Sad Message The Captain becomes moody at sea. He’s Afraid of water; such bully amounts that prove the Seas. . . A glass of water is one thing. A man easily downs It, capturing its menace in his bladder; pissing it Away. A few drops of rain do little harm, save to Remind of how grief looks […]...
13. Judson Stoddard On a mountain top above the clouds That streamed like a sea below me I said that peak is the thought of Budda, And that one is the prayer of Jesus, And this one is the dream of Plato, And that one there the song of Dante, And this is Kant and this is Newton, […]...
14. A SIMPLE POEM I want you to continue writing Because I will not always be around With lips that will never touch mine Read your poems out loud So that the words are left engraved On the wall Make me feel your voice rush through me Like a breeze from Oyá I want to hear about Puerto Rico […]...
15. Thought OF what I write from myself-As if that were not the resumé; Of Histories-As if such, however complete, were not less complete than the preceding poems; As if those shreds, the records of nations, could possibly be as lasting as the preceding poems; As if here were not the amount of all nations, and of […]...
16. The New Poetry Handbook 1 If a man understands a poem, he shall have troubles. 2 If a man lives with a poem, he shall die lonely. 3 If a man lives with two poems, he shall be unfaithful to one. 4 If a man conceives of a poem, he shall have one less child. 5 If a man […]...
17. Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady What beck’ning ghost, along the moon-light shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? ‘Tis she! but why that bleeding bosom gor’d, Why dimly gleams the visionary sword? Oh ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell, Is it, in heav’n, a crime to love too well? To bear too tender, or too firm a heart, To […]...
18. The Four Winds The South wind said to the palms: My lovers sing me psalms; But are they as warm as those That Laylah’s lover knows? The North wind said to the firs: I have my worshippers; But are they as keen as hers? The East wind said to the cedars: My friends are no seceders; But is […]...
19. The Lion and the Lamb I saw a Tiger’s golden flank, I saw what food he ate, By a desert spring he drank; The Tiger’s name was Hate. Then I saw a placid Lamb Lying fast asleep; Like a river from its dam Flashed the Tiger’s leap. I saw a lion tawny-red, Terrible and brave; The Tiger’s leap overhead Broke […]...
20. Elegy Written In A Country Churchyard The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o’er the lea, The ploughman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning […]...
21. The Planet On The Table Ariel was glad he had written his poems. They were of a remembered time Or of something seen that he liked. Other makings of the sun Were waste and welter And the ripe shrub writhed. His self and the sun were one And his poems, although makings of his self, Were no less makings of […]...
22. Of Love & Sex said once a friend of mine That love was just a bucket of bullshit; then I Thought about his parents Wrote once a neighbour poet That sex was a thing overrated; so I Asked for her other poems...
23. The Correspondence School Instructor Says Goodbye To His Poetry Students Goodbye, lady in Bangor, who sent me Snapshots of yourself, after definitely hinting You were beautiful; goodbye, Miami Beach urologist, who enclosed plain Brown envelopes for the return of your very Clinical Sonnet; goodbye, manufacturer Of brassieres on the Coast, whose eclogues Give the fullest treatment in literature yet To the sagging-breast motif; goodbye, you […]...
24. Jumbo Jet I saw a little elephant standing in my garden, I said ‘You don’t belong in here’, he said ‘I beg you pardon?’, I said ‘This place is England, what are you doing here?’, He said ‘Ah, then I must be lost’ and then ‘Oh dear, oh dear’. ‘I should be back in Africa, on Saranghetti’s […]...
25. Ars Poetica? I have always aspired to a more spacious form That would be free from the claims of poetry or prose And would let us understand each other without exposing The author or reader to sublime agonies. In the very essence of poetry there is something indecent: A thing is brought forth which we didn’t know […]...
26. Hannah Armstrong I wrote him a letter asking him for old times’ sake To discharge my sick boy from the army; But maybe he couldn’t read it. Then I went to town and had James Garber, Who wrote beautifully, write him a letter. But maybe that was lost in the mails. So I traveled all the way […]...
27. Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote Her Name One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. “Vain man,” said she, “that dost in vain assay, A mortal thing so to immortalize; For I myself shall like […]...
28. Elegy VI Oh, let me not serve so, as those men serve Whom honour’s smokes at once fatten and starve; Poorly enrich’t with great men’s words or looks; Nor so write my name in thy loving books As those idolatrous flatterers, which still Their Prince’s styles, with many realms fulfil Whence they no tribute have, and where […]...
29. Elegy The page opens to snow on a field: boot-holed month, black hour The bottle in your coat half voda half winter light. To what and to whom does one say yes? If God were the uncertain, would you cling to him? Beneath a tattoo of stars the gate open, so silent so like a tomb. […]...
30. The Tiger The tiger, on the other hand, Is kittenish and mild, And makes a pretty playfellow For any little child. And mothers of large families (Who claim to common sense) Will find a tiger well repays The trouble and expense....
31. Elegy III: Change Although thy hand and faith, and good works too, Have sealed thy love which nothing should undo, Yea though thou fall back, that apostasy Confirm thy love; yet much, much I fear thee. Women are like the Arts, forced unto to none, Open to all searchers, unprized if unknown. If I have caught a bird, […]...
32. Trilogy of Passion: II. ELEGY When man had ceased to utter his lament, A god then let me tell my tale of sorrow. WHAT hope of once more meeting is there now In the still-closed blossoms of this day? Both heaven and hell thrown open seest thou; What wav’ring thoughts within the bosom play No longer doubt! Descending from the […]...
33. Adonais: An Elegy on the Death of John Keats I weep for Adonais he is dead! Oh, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head! And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers, And teach them thine own sorrow, say: “With me Died Adonais; till the Future dares […]...
34. My Cross I wrote a poem to the moon But no one noticed it; Although I hoped that late or soon Someone would praise a bit Its purity and grace forlone, Its beauty tulip-cool… But as my poem died still-born, I felt a fool. I wrote a verse of vulgar trend Spiced with an oath or two; […]...
35. For Harry (My College Room-mate who Died) He cut his hand and it bled, the flesh Inside was red and the hurt discounted the flood Of red and vibrant blood that pulsed From the wound. But he was a warrior, A son whose mien would not countenance the pain And he bound the wound in strips of flax And stalked from the […]...
36. The Bear The bear puts both arms around the tree above her And draws it down as if it were a lover And its choke cherries lips to kiss good-bye, Then lets it snap back upright in the sky. Her next step rocks a boulder on the wall (She’s making her cross-country in the fall). Her great […]...
37. Elegy to the Memory of Richard Boyle, Esq NEAR yon bleak mountain’s dizzy height, That hangs o’er AVON’s silent wave; By the pale Crescent’s glimm’ring light, I sought LORENZO’s lonely grave. O’er the long grass the silv’ry dew, Soft Twilight’s tears spontaneous shone; And the dank bough of baneful yew Supply’d the place of sculptured stone. Oft, as my trembling steps drew near, […]...
38. My Masterpiece It’s slim and trim and bound in blue; Its leaves are crisp and edged with gold; Its words are simple, stalwart too; Its thoughts are tender, wise and bold. Its pages scintillate with wit; Its pathos clutches at my throat: Oh, how I love each line of it! That Little Book I Never Wrote. In […]...
39. Memorial To D. C (Vassar College, 1918) O, loveliest throat of all sweet throats, Where now no more the music is, With hands that wrote you little notes I write you little elegies!...
40. 141. Tam Samson's Elegy HAS auld Kilmarnock seen the deil? Or great Mackinlay 1 thrawn his heel? Or Robertson 2 again grown weel, To preach an’ read? “Na’ waur than a’! cries ilka chiel, “Tam Samson’s dead!” Kilmarnock lang may grunt an’ grane, An’ sigh, an’ sab, an’ greet her lane, An’ cleed her bairns, man, wife, an’ wean, […]...