Anna Who Was Mad

Related poetry:

1. 303. Song-The Gowden Locks of Anna YESTREEN I had a pint o’ wine, A place where body saw na; Yestreen lay on this breast o’ mine The gowden locks of Anna. The hungry Jew in wilderness, Rejoicing o’er his manna, Was naething to my hinny bliss Upon the lips of Anna. Ye monarchs, take the East and West Frae Indus to […]...
2. 229. Song-Anna, thy Charms ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire, And waste my soul with care; But ah! how bootless to admire, When fated to despair! Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair, To hope may be forgiven; For sure ’twere impious to despair So much in sight of heaven....
3. Anna Dalassené In the golden bull that Alexios Comnenos issued To prominently honor his mother, The very sagacious Lady Anna Dalassené- Distinguished in her works, in her ways- There are many words of praise: Here let us convey of them A beautiful, noble phrase “Those cold words ‘mine’ or ‘yours’ were never spoken.”...
4. Anna Comnena In the prologue to her Alexiad, Anna Comnena laments her widowhood. Her soul is dizzy. “And with rivers Of tears,” she tells us “I wet My eyes… Alas for the waves” in her life, “alas for the revolts.” Pain burns her “to the the bones and the marrow and the cleaving of the soul.” But […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. Anna Imroth CROSS the hands over the breast here so. Straighten the legs a little more so. And call for the wagon to come and take her home. Her mother will cry some and so will her sisters and Brothers. But all of the others got down and they are safe and This is the only one […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. Forgive Me Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman. Forgive me if I have laughed In your chapels, Forgive me if I have slammed The hospital door, Forgive me for the noise, For life, For the love to which I have no right. Forgive me for not resembling you....
9. 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 […]...
10. Notes for Canto CXX I have tried to write Paradise Do not move Let the wind speak That is paradise. Let the Gods forgive what I Have made Let those I love try to forgive What I have made....
11. GIPSY SONG IN the drizzling mist, with the snow high-pil’d, In the Winter night, in the forest wild, I heard the wolves with their ravenous howl, I heard the screaming note of the owl: Wille wau wau wau! Wille wo wo wo! Wito Hu! I shot, one day, a cat in a ditch The dear black cat […]...
12. Cupid Caught Napping Cupid on a summer day, Wearied by unceasing play, In a rose heart sleeping lay, While, to guard the tricksy fellow, Close above the fragrant bed Back and forth a gruff bee sped, And, to lull the sleepy head, Played “Zoom! Zoom!” upon his ‘cello. Little did the god surmise That sweet Anna’s cerule eyes […]...
13. 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, […]...
14. Call It Music Some days I catch a rhythm, almost a song In my own breath. I’m alone here In Brooklyn Heights, late morning, the sky Above the St. George Hotel clear, clear For New York, that is. The radio playing “Bird Flight,” Parker in his California Tragic voice fifty years ago, his faltering “Lover Man” just before […]...
15. 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, […]...
16. If I may have it, when it's dead If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented so If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me Until they lock it in the Grave, ‘Tis Bliss I cannot weigh For tho’ they lock Thee in the Grave, Myself can own the key Think of it Lover! I […]...
17. INTEGRITY Integrity Is standing up For what You believe in. It is treating everyone Equally and fairly, Acting independent Of others that do otherwise. It is being Open and honest, Responsible for All of your actions. It is speaking out When others Are treated poorly. It is refusing To participate In actions Detrimental to others. It […]...
18. Deaf House Agent That deaf old man With his hand to his ear His hand to hi head stood out like a shell, Horny and hollow. He said, “I can’t hear,” He muttered, “Don’t shout, I can hear very well!” He mumbled, “I can’t catch a word; I can’t follow.” Then Jack with a voice like a Protestant […]...
19. 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 […]...
20. MATINS, OR MORNING PRAYER When with the virgin morning thou dost rise, Crossing thyself come thus to sacrifice; First wash thy heart in innocence; then bring Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing. Next to the altar humbly kneel, and thence Give up thy soul in clouds of frankincense. Thy golden censers fill’d with odours sweet Shall make […]...
21. Do People moulder equally Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live As I, who testify it Deny that I am dead And fill my Lungs, for Witness From Tanks above my Head I say to you, said Jesus That there be standing here A Sort, that shall not taste […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. 228. To Alex. Cunningham, Esq., Writer, Edinburgh MY godlike friend-nay, do not stare, You think the phrase is odd-like; But “God is love,” the saints declare, Then surely thou art god-like. And is thy ardour still the same? And kindled still at ANNA? Others may boast a partial flame, But thou art a volcano! Ev’n Wedlock asks not love beyond Death’s tie-dissolving […]...
24. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
25. The Fury Of Cooks Herbs, garlic, Cheese, please let me in! Souffles, salad, Parker House rolls, Please let me in! Cook Helen, Why are you so cross, Why is your kitchen verboten? Couldn’t you just teach me To bake a potato, To bake a potato, That charm, That young prince? No! No! This is my county! You shout silently. […]...
26. Golden Days Another day of toil and strife, Another page so white, Within that fateful Log of Life That I and all must write; Another page without a stain To make of as I may, That done, I shall not see again Until the Judgment Day. Ah, could I, could I backward turn The pages of that […]...
27. On The Picture Of Two Dolphins In A Fountayne These dolphins twisting each on either side For joy leapt upp, and gazing there abide; And whereas other waters fish doe bring, Here from the fishes doe the waters spring, Who think it is more glorious to give Than to receive the juice whereby they live: And by this milk-white bason learne you may That […]...
28. One Sweeps By ONE sweeps by, attended by an immense train, All emblematic of peace-not a soldier or menial among them. One sweeps by, old, with black eyes, and profuse white hair, He has the simple magnificence of health and strength, His face strikes as with flashes of lightning whoever it turns toward. Three old men slowly pass, […]...
29. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour Give me a golden pen, and let me lean On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far; Bring me a tablet whiter than a star, Or hand of hymning angel, when ’tis seen The silver strings of heavenly harp atween: And let there glide by many a pearly car Pink robes, and wavy hair, and […]...
30. Dream Song 131: Come touch me baby in his waking dream Come touch me baby in his waking dream Disordered Henry murmured. I’ll read you Hegel And that will hurt your mind I can’t remember when you were unkind But I will clear that block, I’ll set you on fire Along with our babies To save them up the high & ruined stairs, My growing daughters. […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. "Was not" was all the Statement “Was not” was all the Statement. The Unpretension stuns Perhaps the Comprehension They wore no Lexicons But lest our Speculation In inanition die Because “God took him” mention That was Philology...
33. Falstaff's Lament Over Prince Hal Become Henry V One that I cherished, Yea, loved as a son – Up early, up late with, My promising one: No use in good nurture, None, lads, none! Here on this settle He wore the true crown, King of good fellows, And Fat Jack was one – Now, Beadle of England In formal array – Best fellow […]...
34. Not In A Silver Casket Cool With Pearls Not in a silver casket cool with pearls Or rich with red corundum or with blue, Locked, and the key withheld, as other girls Have given their loves, I give my love to you; Not in a lovers’-knot, not in a ring Worked in such fashion, and the legend plain- Semper fidelis, where a secret […]...
35. Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
36. A Hymn To God The Father Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which is my sin, though it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin through which I run, And do run still, though still I do deplore? When thou hast done, thou hast not done, For I have more. Wilt thou forgive that sin by which I […]...
37. The Drover's Sweetheart An hour before the sun goes down Behind the ragged boughs, I go across the little run And bring the dusty cows; And once I used to sit and rest Beneath the fading dome, For there was one that I loved best Who’d bring the cattle home. Our yard is fixed with double bails, Round […]...
38. Taking His Chance They stood by the door of the Inn on the Rise; May Carney looked up in the bushranger’s eyes: ‘Oh! why did you come? it was mad of you, Jack; You know that the troopers are out on your track.’ A laugh and a shake of his obstinate head ‘I wanted a dance, and I’ll […]...
39. Pastoral The little sparrows Hop ingenuously About the pavement Quarreling With sharp voices Over those things That interest them. But we who are wiser Shut ourselves in On either hand And no one knows Whether we think good Or evil. Meanwhile, The old man who goes about Gathering dog-lime Walks in the gutter Without looking up […]...
40. Bring, In This Timeless Grave To Throw XLVI Bring, in this timeless grave to throw No cypress, sombre on the snow; Snap not from the bitter yew His leaves that live December through; Break no rosemary, bright with rime And sparkling to the cruel crime; Nor plod the winter land to look For willows in the icy brook To cast them leafless […]...