Policeman G

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1. Handfuls BLOSSOMS of babies Blinking their stories Come soft On the dusk and the babble; Little red gamblers, Handfuls that slept in the dust. Summers of rain, Winters of drift, Tell off the years; And they go back Who came soft- Back to the sod, To silence and dust; Gray gamblers, Handfuls again....
2. Christmas in a box the policeman on the streets Found christmas in a box Tipped it down a manhole It wasn’t wearing socks A little old lady nearby – The poor sod’s done no harm She got hit with a truncheon For spreading false alarm The policeman then went home Pleased his job was done Called for his christmas […]...
3. The City of Sleep “The Brushwood Boy” The Day’s Work Over the edge of the purple down, Where the single lamplight gleams, Know ye the road to the Merciful Town That is hard by the Sea of Dreams Where the poor may lay their wrongs away, And the sick may forget to weep? But we pity us! Oh, pity […]...
4. The Legend of Evil I This is the sorrowful story Told when the twilight fails And the monkeys walk together Holding their neighbours’ tails: “Our fathers lived in the forest, Foolish people were they, They went down to the cornland To teach the farmers to play. “Our fathers frisked in the millet, Our fathers skipped in the wheat, Our […]...
5. 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, […]...
6. Stripes POLICEMAN in front of a bank 3 A. M. … lonely. Policeman State and Madison… high noon… mobs… cars… parcels… lonely. Woman in suburbs… keeping night watch on a sleeping typhoid patient… only a clock to talk to… lonesome. Woman selling gloves… bargain day department store… furious crazy-work of many hands slipping in and out […]...
7. The Higher Pantheism in a Nutshell One, who is not, we see; but one, whom we see not, is; Surely this is not that; but that is assuredly this. What, and wherefore, and whence? for under is over and under; If thunder could be without lightning, lightning could be without thunder. Doubt is faith in the main; but faith, on the […]...
8. Money When I had money, money, O! I knew no joy till I went poor; For many a false man as a friend Came knocking all day at my door. Then felt I like a child that holds A trumpet that he must not blow Because a man is dead; I dared Not speak to let […]...
9. Dram-Shop Ditty I drink my fill of foamy ale I sing a song, I tell a tale, I play the fiddle; My throat is chronically dry, Yet savant of a sort am I, And Life’s my riddle. For look! I raise my arm to drink- A voluntary act, you think (Nay, Sir, you’re grinning)> You’re wrong: this […]...
10. Phantasmagoria CANTO III ( Scarmoges ) “AND did you really walk,” said I, “On such a wretched night? I always fancied Ghosts could fly – If not exactly in the sky, Yet at a fairish height.” “It’s very well,” said he, “for Kings To soar above the earth: But Phantoms often find that wings – Like many other pleasant things – […]...
11. Upon Returning to the Country Road Even the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world’s greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter and patient hearing, These were their gifts to him, To the minstrel, grimly begging As the sunset-fire grew dim. The rich said “You are welcome.” Yea, even the rich were good. How strange that in […]...
12. Prologue to "Rhymes to be Traded for Bread&quot EVEN the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world’s greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter and patient hearing, These were their gifts to him, To the minstrel chanting, begging, As the sunset-fire grew dim. The rich said “you are welcome.” Yea, even the rich were good. How strange that in […]...
13. Hymn 24 The rich sinner dying. Psa. 49:6,9; Eccl. 8:8; Job 3:14,15. In vain the wealthy mortals toil, And heap their shining dust in vain, Look down and scorn the humble poor, And boast their lofty hills of gain. Their golden cordials cannot ease Their pained hearts or aching heads, Nor fright nor bribe approaching death From […]...
14. The Death of the Old Mendicant There was a rich old gentleman Lived on a lonely moor in Switzerland, And he was very hard to the wandering poor, ‘Tis said he never lodged nor served them at his door. ‘Twas on a stormy night, and Boreas blew a bitter blast, And the snowflakes they fell thick and fast, When a poor […]...
15. The Man in the Moon Came Down Too Soon There is an inn, a merry old inn Beneath an old grey hill, And there they brew a beer so brown That the Man in the Moon himself came down One night to drink his fill. The ostler has a tipsy cat That plays a five-stringed fiddle; And up and down he saws his bow […]...
16. Echoes Lady Clara Vere de Vere Was eight years old, she said: Every ringlet, lightly shaken, ran itself in golden thread. She took her little porringer: Of me she shall not win renown: For the baseness of its nature shall have strength to drag her Down. “Sisters and brothers, little Maid? There stands the Inspector at […]...
17. Running To Paradise As I came over Windy Gap They threw a halfpenny into my cap. For I am running to paradise; And all that I need do is to wish And somebody puts his hand in the dish To throw me a bit of salted fish: And there the king is but as the beggar. My brother […]...
18. Lines Indited With All The Depravity Of Poverty One way to be very happy is to be very rich For then you can buy orchids by the quire and bacon by the flitch. And yet at the same time People don’t mind if you only tip them a dime, Because it’s very funny But somehow if you’re rich enough you can get away […]...
19. Sonnet LVII: You Best Discern'd You best discern’d of my mind’s inward eyes, And yet your graces outwardly divine, Whose dear remembrance in my bosom lies, Too rich a relic for so poor a shrine; You, in whom Nature chose herself to view When she her own perfection would admire, Bestowing all her excellence on you, At whose pure eyes […]...
20. Three Songs Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Court’sied when you have, and kiss’d, The wild waves whist Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Hark, hark! Bow, wow, The watch-dogs bark: Bow, wow. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow! from The Tempest Tell […]...
21. Fairy Land iii COME unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Court’sied when you have, and kiss’d, The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Hark, hark! Bow, wow, The watch-dogs bark: Bow, wow. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow!...
22. Pedlar Pedlar’s coming down the street, Housewives beat a swift retreat. Don’t you answer to the bell; Heedless what she has to sell. Just discreetly go inside. We must hang a board, I fear: PEDLARS NOT PERMITTED HERE. I’m trying to sell what nobody wants to buy; They turn me away, but still I try and […]...
23. My Bear I never killed a bear because I always thought them critters was So kindo’ cute; Though round my shack they often came, I’d raise my rifle and take aim, But couldn’t shoot. Yet there was one full six-feet tall Who came each night and gobbled all The grub in sight; On my pet garden truck […]...
24. The Visionary If fortune had not granted me To suck the Muse’s teats, I think I would have liked to be A sweeper of the streets; And city gutters glad to groom, Have heft a bonny broom. There as amid the crass and crush The limousines swished by, I would have leaned upon my brush With visionary […]...
25. Wealth (For Aline) From what old ballad, or from what rich frame Did you descend to glorify the earth? Was it from Chaucer’s singing book you came? Or did Watteau’s small brushes give you birth? Nothing so exquisite as that slight hand Could Raphael or Leonardo trace. Nor could the poets know in Fairyland The changing […]...
26. Everybody Knows (co-written by Sharon Robinson) Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows that the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That’s how it goes Everybody knows Everybody knows that the boat […]...
27. The Sluggard A jar of cider and my pipe, In summer, under shady tree; A book by one that made his mind Live by its sweet simplicity: Then must I laugh at kings who sit In richest chambers, signing scrolls; And princes cheered in public ways, And stared at by a thousand fools. Let me be free […]...
28. The Lost Pilot for my father, 1922-1944 Your face did not rot Like the others the co-pilot, For example, I saw him Yesterday. His face is corn- Mush: his wife and daughter, The poor ignorant people, stare As if he will compose soon. He was more wronged than Job. But your face did not rot Like the others […]...
29. Trafficker Among the shadows where two streets cross, A woman lurks in the dark and waits To move on when a policeman heaves in view. Smiling a broken smile from a face Painted over haggard bones and desperate eyes, All night she offers passers-by what they will Of her beauty wasted, body faded, claims gone, And […]...
30. 391. A Tippling Ballad-When Princes and Prelates, etc WHEN Princes and Prelates, And hot-headed zealots, A’ Europe had set in a low, a low, The poor man lies down, Nor envies a crown, And comforts himself as he dow, as he dow, And comforts himself as he dow. The black-headed eagle, As keen as a beagle, He hunted o’er height and o’er howe, […]...
31. An Autumn Reverie Alas! Beautiful Summer now hath fled, And the face of Nature doth seem dead, And the leaves are withered, and falling off the trees, By the nipping and chilling autumnal breeze. The pleasures of the little birds are all fled, And with the cold many of them will be found dead, Because the leaves of […]...
32. Decadence Before the florid portico I watched the gamblers come and go, While by me on a bench there sat A female in a faded hat; A shabby, shrinking, crumpled creature, Of waxy casino-ward with eyes Of lost soul seeking paradise. Then from the Café de la Paix There shambled forth a waiter fellow, Clad dingily, […]...
33. Sonnet XII: Now, O'er the Tesselated Pavement Now, o’er the tessellated pavement strew Fresh saffron, steep’d in essence of the rose, While down yon agate column gently flows A glitt’ring streamlet of ambrosial dew! My Phaon smiles! the rich carnation’s hue, On his flush’d cheek in conscious lustre glows, While o’er his breast enamour’d Venus throws Her starry mantle of celestial blue! […]...
34. A Teamster's Farewell Sobs En Route to a Penitentiary GOOD-BY now to the streets and the clash of wheels and Locking hubs, The sun coming on the brass buckles and harness knobs. The muscles of the horses sliding under their heavy Haunches, Good-by now to the traffic policeman and his whistle, The smash of the iron hoof on […]...
35. To an Early Daffodil Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard Spring! Thou herald of rich Summer’s myriad flowers! The climbing sun with new recovered powers Does warm thee into being, through the ring Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers Of bending sky and sudden, sweeping showers, Till ripe and […]...
36. It was given to me by the Gods It was given to me by the Gods When I was a little Girl They given us Presents most you know When we are new and small. I kept it in my Hand I never put it down I did not dare to eat or sleep For fear it would be gone I heard such […]...
37. The singing dog when the dog began to sing The people ran amok A man shinned up a flagpole A woman chewed her sock Children danced the drainpipe A policeman robbed a bank The mayor and all the councillors Fired doughnuts from a tank The queen embraced the dustman The clergy showed their knees Librarians in their thousands […]...
38. The Sunken Crown Nothing will hold him longer-let him go; Let him go down where others have gone down; Little he cares whether we smile or frown, Or if we know, or if we think we know. The call is on him for his overthrow, Say we; so let him rise, or let him drown. Poor fool! He […]...
39. Astrophel and Stella: XX Fly, fly, my friends, I have my death wound, fly! See there that boy, that murd’ring boy, I say, Who, like a thief, hid in dark bush doth lie Till bloody bullet get him wrongful prey. So tyrant he no fitter place could spy, Nor so fair level in so secret stay, As that sweet […]...
40. I Saw Myself I saw myself A ring of bone In the clear stream Of all of it And vowed Always to be open to it That all of it Might flow through And then heard “ring of bone” where Ring is what a Bell does...