Barefoot

Related poetry:

1. A Barefoot Boy A barefoot boy! I mark him at his play For May is here once more, and so is he, His dusty trousers, rolled half to the knee, And his bare ankles grimy, too, as they: Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in array Of feverish stripes, hint vividly to me Of woody pathways winding endlessly Along the […]...
2. The Barefoot Boy Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan! With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes; With thy red lip, redder still Kissed by strawberries on the hill; With the sunshine on thy face, Through thy torn brim’s jaunty grace; From my heart I give thee joy, – I was once […]...
3. Little Ballads Of Timely Warning; II: On Malicious Cruelty To Harmless Creatures The cruelty of P. L. Brown- (He had ten toes as good as mine) Was known to every one in town, And, if he never harmed a noun, He loved to make verbs shriek and whine. The “To be” family’s just complaints- (Brown had ten toes as good as mine) Made Brown cast off the […]...
4. The Pobble Who Has No Toes The Pobble who has no toes Had once as many as we; When they said “Some day you may lose them all;” He replied “Fish, fiddle-de-dee!” And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink Lavender water tinged with pink, For she said “The World in general knows There’s nothing so good for a Pobble’s toes!” The […]...
5. Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
6. A Baby Running Barefoot When the bare feet of the baby beat across the grass The little white feet nod like white flowers in the wind, They poise and run like ripples lapping across the water; And the sight of their white play among the grass Is like a little robin’s song, winsome, Or as two white butterflies settle […]...
7. The Gardener The gardener does not love to talk, He makes me keep the gravel walk; And when he puts his tools away, He locks the door and takes the key. Away behind the currant row Where no one else but cook may go, Far in the plots, I see him dig Old and serious, brown and […]...
8. Hot she was hot, she was so hot I didn’t want anybody else to have her, And if I didn’t get home on time She’d be gone, and I couldn’t bear that- I’d go mad. . . It was foolish I know, childish, But I was caught in it, I was caught. I delivered all the […]...
9. Mask Fling your red scarf faster and faster, dancer. It is summer and the sun loves a million green leaves, masses of green. Your red scarf flashes across them calling and a-calling. The silk and flare of it is a great soprano leading a chorus Carried along in a rouse of voices reaching for the heart […]...
10. Two Songs Of A Fool I A speckled cat and a tame hare Eat at my hearthstone And sleep there; And both look up to me alone For learning and defence As I look up to Providence. I start out of my sleep to think Some day I may forget Their food and drink; Or, the house door left unshut, […]...
11. We'll go no more a-roving SO, we’ll go no more a-roving So late into the night, Though the heart be still as loving, And the moon be still as bright. For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest. Though the night was made […]...
12. The Fury Of Abandonment Someone lives in a cave Eating his toes, I know that much. Someone little lives under a bush Pressing an empty Coca-Cola can against His starving bloated stomac, I know that much. A monkey had his hands cut off For a medical experiment And his claws wept. I know tht much. I know that it […]...
13. The Church-Bell As I was lying in my bed I heard the church-bell ring; Before one solemn word was said A bird began to sing. I heard a dog begin to bark And a bold crowing cock; The bell, between the cold and dark, Tolled. It was five o’clock. The church-bell tolled, and the bird sang, A […]...
14. The Owl And The Pussy-Cat I The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea In a beautiful pea green boat, They took some honey, and plenty of money, Wrapped up in a five pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above, And sang to a small guitar, ‘O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love, What a beautiful Pussy […]...
15. The Pig In England once there lived a big And wonderfully clever pig. To everybody it was plain That Piggy had a massive brain. He worked out sums inside his head, There was no book he hadn’t read. He knew what made an airplane fly, He knew how engines worked and why. He knew all this, but […]...
16. Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
17. Faithless Nelly Gray A Pathetic Ballad Ben Battle was a soldier bold, And used to war’s alarms; But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms. Now as they bore him off the field, Said he, ‘Let others shoot; For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot.’ The army-surgeons made him […]...
18. Martha SEXTON! Martha’s dead and gone; Toll the bell! toll the bell! Her weary hands their labor cease; Good night, poor Martha, sleep in peace! Toll the bell! Sexton! Martha ‘s dead and gone; Toll the bell! toll the bell! For many a year has Martha said, “I’m old and poor, would I were dead!” Toll […]...
19. Big Night On The Town drunk on the dark streets of some city, It’s night, you’re lost, where’s your Room? You enter a bar to find yourself, Order scotch and water. Damned bar’s sloppy wet, it soaks Part of one of your shirt Sleeves. It’s a clip joint-the scotch is weak. You order a bottle of beer. Madame Death walks […]...
20. Sestina for Jim Cummins In Iowa, Jim dreamed that Della Street was Anne Sexton’s Twin. Dave drew a comic strip called the “Adventures of Whitman,” About a bearded beer-guzzler in Superman uniform. Donna dressed like Wallace Stevens In a seersucker summer suit. To town came Ted Berrigan, Saying, “My idea of a bad poet is Marvin […]...
21. In rags mysterious as these In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go Veiling the purple, and the plumes Veiling the ermine so. Smiling, as they request an alms At some imposing door! Smiling when we walk barefoot Upon their golden floor!...
22. Strong Beer “What do you think The bravest drink Under the sky?” “Strong beer,” said I. “There’s a place for everything, Everything, anything, There’s a place for everything Where it ought to be: For a chicken, the hen’s wing; For poison, the bee’s sting; For almond-blossom, Spring; A beerhouse for me.” “There’s a prize for every one […]...
23. A Tribute to Mr J. Graham Henderson, The World's Fair Judge Thrice welcome home to Hawick, Mr J. Graham Henderson, For by your Scotch tweeds a great honour you have won; By exhibiting your beautiful tweeds at the World’s Fair You have been elected judge of Australian and American wools while there. You had to pass a strict examination on the wool trade, But you have […]...
24. Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
25. The Neighborhood I wish I could, like some, forget, And never anguish, nor regret, Dismissive, free to roam the street, No matter how The visions meet. Remembrance is a neighborhood Where convicts live with great and good, Its roads of red, uneven brick, Whose surfaces – both rough and slick – Spread out into a patchwork plan. […]...
26. The morns are meeker than they were The morns are meeker than they were The nuts are getting brown The berry’s cheek is plumper The Rose is out of town. The Maple wears a gayer scarf The field a scarlet gown Lest I should be old fashioned I’ll put a trinket on....
27. House Of Silence The winter sun, golden and tired, Settles on the irregular army Of bottles. Outside the trucks Jostle toward the open road, Outside it’s Saturday afternoon, And young women in black pass by Arm in arm. This bar Is the house of silence, and we drink To silence without raising our voices In the old way. […]...
28. Hymn To Life The hair falling on your forehead suddenly lifted. Suddenly something stirred on the ground. The trees are whispering in the dark. Your bare arms will be cold. Far off where we can’t see, the moon must be rising. It hasn’t reached us yet, slipping through the leaves to light up your shoulder. But I know […]...
29. To Robin Goodfellow I see you, Maister Bawsy-brown, Through yonder lattice creepin’; You come for cream and to gar me dream, But you dinna find me sleepin’. The moonbeam, that upon the floor Wi’ crickets ben a-jinkin’, Now steals away fra’ her bonnie play Wi’ a rosier blie, I’m thinkin’. I saw you, Maister Bawsy-brown, When the blue […]...
30. The room you know how it is with the room The door is frequently locked As i pass a white sigh Is pushed out from under As i bend to retrieve it The wood quivers with a woman’s breath There is a ruffle of crying Through the keyhole i am able To glimpse a red dress Clawing […]...
31. EPIPHANIAS THE three holy kings with their star’s bright ray, They eat and they drink, but had rather not pay; They like to eat and drink away, They eat and drink, but had rather not pay. The three holy kings have all come here, In number not four, but three they appear; And if a fourth […]...
32. Villanelle Katie could put her feet behind her head Or do a grand plié, position two, Her suppleness magnificent in bed. I strained my lower back, and Katie bled, Only a little, doing what we could do When Katie tucked her feet behind her head. Her torso was a C-cup’d figurehead, Wearing below its navel a […]...
33. Finish DEATH comes once, let it be easy. Ring one bell for me once, let it go at that. Or ring no bell at all, better yet. Sing one song if I die. Sing John Brown’s Body or Shout All Over God’s Heaven. Or sing nothing at all, better yet. Death comes once, let it be […]...
34. The Wrong Way Home All night a door floated down the river. It tried to remember little incidents of pleasure From its former life, like the time the lovers Leaned against it kissing for hours And whispering those famous words. Later, there were harsh words and a shoe Was thrown and the door was slammed. Comings and goings by […]...
35. Are you Loving Enough? Are you loving enough? There is some one dear, Some one you hold as the dearest of all In the holiest shrine of your heart. Are you making it known? Is the truth of it clear To the one you love? If death’s quick call Should suddenly tear you apart, Leaving no time for a […]...
36. The Gardener IV: Ah Me Ah me, why did they build my House by the road to the market Town? They moor their laden boats near My trees. They come and go and wander at Their will. I sit and watch them; my time Wears on. Turn them away I cannot. And Thus my days pass by. Night and day […]...
37. Legs rivers and age with landbound legs a wish For the easy flow of a river – not The clambering up crags to seek More favour from the sun (or long-haired moon) harped for Since those sparks of who am i First clicked through consciousness How the river sidles round Rocks blocking the painful straight Seems to brush aside […]...
38. 'In the Pink&#039 So Davies wrote: ‘ This leaves me in the pink. ‘ Then scrawled his name: ‘ Your loving sweetheart Willie ‘ With crosses for a hug. He’d had a drink Of rum and tea; and, though the barn was chilly, For once his blood ram warm; he had pay to spend, Winter was passing; soon […]...
39. When Dawn Comes to the City The tired cars go grumbling by, The moaning, groaning cars, And the old milk carts go rumbling by Under the same dull stars. Out of the tenements, cold as stone, Dark figures start for work; I watch them sadly shuffle on, ‘Tis dawn, dawn in New York. But I would be on the island of […]...
40. The Haymakers' Song HERE’S to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink! That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink! To him that mows and makes it, That scatters it and shakes it, That turns, and teds, and rakes it, Clink, jugs, clink! Now here ‘s to him that stacks it, Drink, lads, drink! That thrashes […]...