Any Other Time

Related poetry:

1. Ashes Of Life Love has gone and left me and the days are all alike; Eat I must, and sleep I will,-and would that night were here! But ah!-to lie awake and hear the slow hours strike! Would that it were day again!-with twilight near! Love has gone and left me and I don’t know what to do; […]...
2. Out of the Rolling Ocean, the Crowd 1 OUT of the rolling ocean, the crowd, came a drop gently to me, Whispering, I love you, before long I die, I have travel’d a long way, merely to look on you, to touch you, For I could not die till I once look’d on you, For I fear’d I might afterward lose you. […]...
3. August 8th And do not be indiscreet or unconventional. Play it safe. Listen here. I’ve never played it safe In spite of what the critics say. Ask my imaginary brother, that waif, That childhood best friend who comes to play Dress-up and stick-up and jacks and Pick-Up-Sticks, Bike downtown, stick out tongues at the Catholics. Or form […]...
4. The Dying Christian to His Soul Vital spark of heav’nly flame! Quit, O quit this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, flying, O the pain, the bliss of dying! Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife, And let me languish into life. Hark! they whisper; angels say, Sister Spirit, come away! What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, […]...
5. Thing Language This ocean, humiliating in its disguises Tougher than anything. No one listens to poetry. The ocean Does not mean to be listened to. A drop Or crash of water. It means Nothing. It Is bread and butter Pepper and salt. The death That young men hope for. Aimlessly It pounds the shore. White and aimless […]...
6. The Burned Child Love has had his way with me. This my heart is torn and maimed Since he took his play with me. Cruel well the bow-boy aimed, Shot, and saw the feathered shaft Dripping bright and bitter red. He that shrugged his wings and laughed- Better had he left me dead. Sweet, why do you plead […]...
7. We do not play on Graves We do not play on Graves Because there isn’t Room Besides it isn’t even it slants And People come And put a Flower on it And hang their faces so We’re fearing that their Hearts will drop And crush our pretty play And so we move as far As Enemies away Just looking round to […]...
8. Frogmouth biker The biker was a menace on the farm, a madman bent On speed, intent on leaving all for dead (it was fortunate He never left the shed). This biker was a frogmouth owl, A petrol head who sought to ride the biggest, baddest bike Around and did indeed if only in his mind; I’d dread […]...
9. Sonnet LVI Sweet love, renew thy force; be it not said Thy edge should blunter be than appetite, Which but to-day by feeding is allay’d, To-morrow sharpen’d in his former might: So, love, be thou; although to-day thou fill Thy hungry eyes even till they wink with fullness, To-morrow see again, and do not kill The spirit […]...
10. Our Eyes Our eyes are limpid drops of water. In each drop exists a tiny sign of our genius Which has given life to cold iron. Our eyes are limpid drops of water Merged absolutely in the Ocean That you could hardly recognize the drop in a block of ice in a boiling pan. The masterpiece of […]...
11. A Disqualified Jockey's Story You see, the thing was this way there was me, That rode Panopply, the Splendor mare, And Ikey Chambers on the Iron Dook, And Smith, the half-caste rider on Regret, And that long bloke from Wagga him that rode Veronikew, the Snowy River horse. Well, none of them had chances not a chance Among the […]...
12. I know that He exists I know that He exists. Somewhere in Silence He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes. ‘Tis an instant’s play. ‘Tis a fond Ambush Just to make Bliss Earn her own surprise! But should the play Prove piercing earnest Should the glee glaze In Death’s stiff stare Would not the fun Look too […]...
13. An Excursion Steamer Sunk in the Tay ‘Twas in the year of 1888, and on July the 14th day, That an alarming accident occurred in the River Tay. Which resulted in the sinking of the Tay Ferries’ Steamer “Dundee,” Which was a most painful and sickening sight to see. The Steamer was engaged by the Independent Order of Rechabites, And all were […]...
14. To A Squirrel At Kyle-Na-No Come play with me; Why should you run Through the shaking tree As though I’d a gun To strike you dead? When all I would do Is to scratch your head And let you go....
15. The Superseded I As newer comers crowd the fore, We drop behind. – We who have laboured long and sore Times out of mind, And keen are yet, must not regret To drop behind. II Yet there are of us some who grieve To go behind; Staunch, strenuous souls who scarce believe Their fires declined, And know […]...
16. Mind Games I am a waterfall in the desert. A rain from a cloudless sky. A well known but unborn child. An insistence experience That you never had. I play mind games with your brain. When you strike the keys and remember the sea I come as indefinable memory. When you look at your watch And the […]...
17. Nirvana not much chance, Completely cut loose from Purpose, He was a young man Riding a bus Through North Carolina On the wat to somewhere And it began to snow And the bus stopped At a little cafe In the hills And the passengers Entered. He sat at the counter With the others, He ordered and […]...
18. Hi-spy Strange that the city thoroughfare, Noisy and bustling all the day, Should with the night renounce its care, And lend itself to children’s play! Oh, girls are girls, and boys are boys, And have been so since Abel’s birth, And shall be so till dolls and toys Are with the children swept from earth. The […]...
19. (As sung by Mr. Charles Charrington in the play of "The Three Wayfarers") (As sung by Mr. Charles Charrington in the play of “The Three Wayfarers”) O MY trade it is the rarest one, Simple shepherds all My trade is a sight to see; For my customers I tie, and take ’em up on high, And waft ’em to a far countree! My tools are but common ones, […]...
20. Affection The earth that made the rose, She also is thy mother, and not I. The flame wherewith thy maiden spirit glows Was lighted at no hearth that I sit by. I am as far below as heaven above thee. Were I thine angel, more I could not love thee. Bid me defend thee! Thy danger […]...
21. The Cut Well, what’s the matter? there’s a face What! has it cut a vein? And is it quite a shocking place? Come, let us look again. I see it bleeds, but never mind That tiny little drop; I don’t believe you’ll ever find That crying makes it stop. ‘Tis sad indeed to cry at pain, For […]...
22. Grace My stock lies dead and no increase Doth my dull husbandry improve: O let thy graces without cease Drop from above! If still the sun should hide his face, Thy house would but a dungeon prove, Thy works, night’s captives: O let grace Drop from above! The dew doth ev’ry morning fall; And shall the […]...
23. Rehearsal to Ourselves Rehearsal to Ourselves Of a Withdrawn Delight Affords a Bliss like Murder Omnipotent Acute We will not drop the Dirk Because We love the Wound The Dirk Commemorate Itself Remind Us that we died....
24. The Wreck of the Steamer Mohegan Good people of high and low degree, I pray ye all to list to me, And I’ll relate a terrible tale of the sea Concerning the unfortunate steamer, Mohegan, That against the Manacles Rocks, ran. ‘Twas on Friday, the 14th of October, in the year of ninety-eight, Which alas! must have been a dreadful sight; […]...
25. Brother And Sister “SISTER, sister, go to bed! Go and rest your weary head.” Thus the prudent brother said. “Do you want a battered hide, Or scratches to your face applied?” Thus his sister calm replied. “Sister, do not raise my wrath. I’d make you into mutton broth As easily as kill a moth” The sister raised her […]...
26. The Wreck of the Steamer Stella ‘Twas in the month of March and in the year of 1899, Which will be remembered for a very long time; The wreck of the steamer “Stella” that was wrecked on the Casquet Rocks, By losing her bearings in a fog, and received some terrible shocks. The “Stella” was bound for the Channel Islands on […]...
27. The Tay Bridge Disaster Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay! Alas! I am very sorry to say That ninety lives have been taken away On the last Sabbath day of 1879, Which will be remember’d for a very long time. ‘Twas about seven o’clock at night, And the wind it blew with all its might, And the rain […]...
28. In The Poppy Field Mad Patsy said, he said to me, That every morning he could see An angel walking on the sky; Across the sunny skies of morn He threw great handfuls far and nigh Of poppy seed among the corn; And then, he said, the angels run To see the poppies in the sun. A poppy is […]...
29. The Drop, that wrestles in the Sea The Drop, that wrestles in the Sea Forgets her own locality As I toward Thee She knows herself an incense small Yet small she sighs if All is All How larger be? The Ocean smiles at her Conceit But she, forgetting Amphitrite Pleads “Me”?...
30. An Exile's Farewell The ocean heaves around us still With long and measured swell, The autumn gales our canvas fill, Our ship rides smooth and well. The broad Atlantic’s bed of foam Still breaks against our prow; I shed no tears at quitting home, Nor will I shed them now! Against the bulwarks on the poop I lean, […]...
31. Who is Kator Anyhow? Why, oh why was Kater lifted From the darkness, where he drifted All unknown, and raised to honour, Side by side with Dick O’connor, In the Council, free from row? Who is Kater, anyhow? Did he lend our armies rally, Like the recent Billy Dalley? Did he lend a Premier money, Like (No libels here, […]...
32. THE CHOSEN CLIFF HERE in silence the lover fondly mused on his loved one; Gladly he spake to me thus: “Be thou my witness, thou stone! Yet thou must not be vainglorious, thou hast many companions; Unto each rock on the plain, where I, the happy one, dwell, Unto each tree of the wood that I cling to, […]...
33. Sonnet 41 – I thank all who have loved me in their hearts XLI I thank all who have loved me in their hearts, With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all Who paused a little near the prison-wall To hear my music in its louder parts Ere they went onward, each one to the mart’s Or temple’s occupation, beyond call. But thou, who, in my […]...
34. The Partial Explanation Seems like a long time Since the waiter took my order. Grimy little luncheonette, The snow falling outside. Seems like it has grown darker Since I last heard the kitchen door Behind my back Since I last noticed Anyone pass on the street. A glass of ice-water Keeps me company At this table I chose […]...
35. The Rule of the A. J. C Come all ye bold trainers attend to my song, It’s a rule of the A. J. C. You mustn’t train ponies, for that’s very wrong By the rules of the A. J. C. You have to wear winkers when crossing the street, For fear that a pony you’d happen to meet If you hear one […]...
36. Potomac Town in February THE BRIDGE says: Come across, try me; see how good I am. The big rock in the river says: Look at me; learn how to stand up. The white water says: I go on; around, under, over, I go on. A kneeling, scraggly pine says: I am here yet; they nearly got me last year. […]...
37. Poem For My 43rd Birthday To end up alone In a tomb of a room Without cigarettes Or wine Just a lightbulb And a potbelly, Grayhaired, And glad to have The room. …in the morning They’re out there Making money: Judges, carpenters, Plumbers, doctors, Newsboys, policemen, Barbers, carwashers, Dentists, florists, Waitresses, cooks, Cabdrivers… And you turn over To your left […]...
38. Repentance “If you repent,” the Parson said,” Your sins will be forgiven. Aye, even on your dying bed You’re not too late for heaven.” That’s just my cup of tea, I thought, Though for my sins I sorrow; Since salvation is easy bought I will repent. . . to-morrow. To-morrow and to-morrow went, But though my […]...
39. At Home When I was dead, my spirit turned To seek the much-frequented house: I passed the door, and saw my friends Feasting beneath green orange boughs; From hand to hand they pushed the wine, They sucked the pulp of plum and peach; They sang, they jested, and they laughed, For each was loved of each. I […]...
40. Timer The smell of ammonia in the entrance hall. The racing bike. The junk mail. The timer switch whose single naked bulb Allowed us as far as the first floor. The backs of your legs As you went ahead of me up the stairs. The landing where we paused for breath And impatient key searching. The […]...