Forgetfulness

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1. Forgetfulness Forgetfulness is like a song That, freed from beat and measure, wanders. Forgetfulness is like a bird whose wings are reconciled, Outspread and motionless, A bird that coasts the wind unwearyingly. Forgetfulness is rain at night, Or an old house in a forest, or a child. Forgetfulness is white, white as a blasted tree, And […]...
2. Wallace Ferguson There at Geneva where Mt. Blanc floated above The wine-hued lake like a cloud, when a breeze was blown Out of an empty sky of blue, and the roaring Rhone Hurried under the bridge through chasms of rock; And the music along the cafés was part of the splendor Of dancing water under a torrent […]...
3. My Galley, Charged with Forgetfulness My galley, chargèd with forgetfulness, Thorough sharp seas in winter nights doth pass ‘Tween rock and rock; and eke mine en’my, alas, That is my lord, steereth with cruelness; And every owre a thought in readiness, As though that death were light in such a case. An endless wind doth tear the sail apace Of […]...
4. Hinged To Forgetfulness Like A Door Hinged to forgetfulness Like a door, She slowly closed out of Sight, And she was the woman I loved, But too many times she slept like A mechanical deer in my caresses, And I ached in the metal silence Of her dreams....
5. We are the time. We are the famous We are the time. We are the famous Metaphor from Heraclitus the Obscure. We are the water, not the hard diamond, The one that is lost, not the one that stands still. We are the river and we are that greek That looks himself into the river. His reflection Changes into the waters of the […]...
6. River Moons THE DOUBLE moon, one on the high back drop of the west, one on the curve of the river face, The sky moon of fire and the river moon of water, I am taking these home in a basket, hung on an elbow, such a teeny weeny elbow, in my head. I saw them last […]...
7. Ford o' Kabul River Kabul town’s by Kabul river Blow the bugle, draw the sword There I lef’ my mate for ever, Wet an’ drippin’ by the ford. Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river, Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark! There’s the river up and brimmin’, an’ there’s ‘arf a squadron swimmin’ ‘Cross the ford o’ Kabul river […]...
8. By the Spring, at Sunset Sometimes we remember kisses, Remember the dear heart-leap when they came: Not always, but sometimes we remember The kindness, the dumbness, the good flame Of laughter and farewell. Beside the road Afar from those who said “Good-by” I write, Far from my city task, my lawful load. Sun in my face, wind beside my shoulder, […]...
9. By A Swimming Pool Outside Syracusa All afternoon I have been struggling To communicate in Italian With Roberto and Giuseppe, who have begun To resemble the two male characters In my Italian for Beginners, The ones who are always shopping Or inquiring about the times of trains, And now I can hardly speak or write English. I have made important pronouncements […]...
10. I Remember, I Remember I Remember, I Remember I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor brought too long a day; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away. I remember, I remember The […]...
11. Balmoral Castle Beautiful Balmoral Castle, Most handsome to be seen, Highland home of the Empress of India, Great Britain’s Queen. Your woods and waters and Mountains high are most Beautiful to see, Near by Balmoral Castle And the dark river Dee. Then there’s the hill of Cairngorm To be seen from afar, And the beautiful heathery hills […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. When I read the Book WHEN I read the book, the biography famous, And is this, then, (said I,) what the author calls a man’s life? And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life? (As if any man really knew aught of my life; Why, even I myself, I often think, know little or […]...
14. Past and Present I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor bought too long a day; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away. I remember, I remember The roses, red and white, […]...
15. Sleeping In The Forest I thought the earth remembered me, She took me back so tenderly, Arranging her dark skirts, her pockets Full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed, Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars But my thoughts, and they floated light as moths Among the […]...
16. Tz'u No. 2 (Wine Joy) To the tune “As in a Dream” I have long remembered The pavilion On the stream The falling sun So deep in wine We did not know The way home How pleasure spent Late returning The skiff Thoughtless Entered A lotus deep place And struggling through Struggling through We scared up From the sand Gulls […]...
17. Anne Pennington Until her last breath she enlarges Her Oxford house Built in Slavonic Vowels and consonants She polishes the corner-stones Until their Anglo-Saxon shine Begins to sing Her death is like a short breath-stop Under the distant limetrees of her friends...
18. Elizabeth Leaves A Letter For Dr. Frankenstein Whether the clouds had abandoned Geneva that evening No one can say now, but what I remember are roses Bruised at their edges, and china cups yellowed with age. “I am too sick of interior vapors,” I told you, “Find us a corner of sunlight, and hammer it down… Tell me again I’m so lovely […]...
19. Remember with affection They’ll always tell a story those Obscure mementos stacked on Dusty shelves, demure and silent like The other gaudy tributes tacked To walls in floodlit halls and if you Could suppose their lusty origins And still allow the glory They impute you are in thrall. I recall that tiny pot, A plastic flower in pink […]...
20. Hiawathas' photographing ( Part III ) Next the Son, the Stunning-Cantab: He suggested curves of beauty, Curves pervading all his figure, Which the eye might follow onward, Till they centered in the breast-pin, Centered in the golden breast-pin. He had learnt it all from Ruskin (Author of ‘The Stones of Venice,’ ‘Seven Lamps of Architecture,’ ‘Modern Painters,’ and some others); And […]...
21. In The Garden One moment alone in the garden, Under the August skies; The moon had gone but the stars shone on, – Shone like your beautiful eyes. Away from the glitter and gaslight, Alone in the garden there, While the mirth of the throng, in laugh and song, Floated out on the air. You looked down through […]...
22. Summer begins to have the look Summer begins to have the look Peruser of enchanting Book Reluctantly but sure perceives A gain upon the backward leaves Autumn begins to be inferred By millinery of the cloud Or deeper color in the shawl That wraps the everlasting hill. The eye begins its avarice A meditation chastens speech Some Dyer of a distant […]...
23. The river at whitebrook the winding wye Curls into my senses Feliniously There’s no such word But no such river Merely exists Where this river slivers Between the dream And the time i camped by it Has left a furmark On my inward skin It takes only a wet thought For hunchbacked woods And a drift of mist Lifting […]...
24. Fairyland If people came to know where my king’s palace is, it would vanish Into the air. The walls are of white silver and the roof of shining gold. The queen lives in a palace with seven courtyards, and she Wears a jewel that cost all the wealth of seven kingdoms. But let me tell you, […]...
25. A BREAK IN THE RHYTHM OF LIFE Bhaskar Roy Barman When the world itself looked exhausted, Revolving round the sun; When a bumble-bee sounded tired Of humming round a ternate leaf; When a few fishermen were venting their rage on their net -they looked fed up of mending their net off and on – And when the fish were leaping and playing […]...
26. Me prove it now Whoever doubt Me prove it now Whoever doubt Me stop to prove it now Make haste the Scruple! Death be scant For Opportunity The River reaches to my feet As yet My Heart be dry Oh Lover Life could not convince Might Death enable Thee The River reaches to My Breast Still still My Hands above Proclaim […]...
27. The Definition of Gardening Jim just loves to garden, yes he does. He likes nothing better than to put on His little overalls and his straw hat. He says, “Let’s go get those tools, Jim.” But then doubt begins to set in. He says, “What is a garden, anyway?” And thoughts about a “modernistic” garden Begin to trouble him, […]...
28. Amoretti III: The Sovereign Beauty The sovereign beauty which I do admire, Witness the world how worthy to be praised: The light whereof hath kindled heavenly fire In my frail spirit, by her from baseness raised; That being now with her huge brightness dazed, Base thing I can no more endure to view; But looking still on her, I stand […]...
29. Where Go the Boats? Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a-floating, Castles of the foam, Boats of mine a-boating – Where will all come home? On goes the river And out past the mill, Away down the valley, Away down the hill. Away down […]...
30. The Negro Mother Children, I come back today To tell you a story of the long dark way That I had to climb, that I had to know In order that the race might live and grow. Look at my face dark as the night Yet shining like the sun with love’s true light. I am the dark […]...
31. Cupid Mistaken As after noon, one summer’s day, Venus stood bathing in a river; Cupid a-shooting went that way, New strung his bow, new fill’d his quiver. With skill he chose his sharpest dart: With all his might his bow he drew: Swift to his beauteous parent’s heart The too well-guided arrow flew. I faint! I die! […]...
32. Sonnet XXXVIII: Sitting Alone, Love Sitting alone, Love bids me go and write; Reason plucks back, commanding me to stay, Boasting that she doth still direct the way, Or else Love were unable to endite. Love, growing angry, vexed at the spleen And scorning Reason’s maimed argument, Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent, Where she with Love conversing hath not […]...
33. Remember Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann’d: Only remember me; you understand […]...
34. Obsessive Combination Of Onotological Inscape, Trickery And Love Busy, with an idea for a code, I write Signals hurrying from left to right, Or right to left, by obscure routes, For my own reasons; taking a word like writes Down tiers of tries until its secret rites Make sense; or until, suddenly, RATS Can amazingly and funnily become STAR And right to left […]...
35. Owl power they say in the local sanctuary Owls are the stupidest creatures All this wisdom business is The mythological media at work But the shortest nosing into books Tells you even the mythic world Is bamboozled by the creature – no Two cultures being able to agree The bird was cherished by minerva Hebrews loathed it […]...
36. Not Love Perhaps This is not Love, perhaps, Love that lays down its life, That many waters cannot quench, Nor the floods drown, But something written in lighter ink, Said in a lower tone, something, perhaps, especially our own. A need, at times, to be together and talk, And then the finding we can walk More firmly through […]...
37. To His Worthy Friend Doctor Witty Upon His Translation Of The Popular Errors Sit further, and make room for thine own fame, Where just desert enrolles thy honour’d Name The good Interpreter. Some in this task Take of the Cypress vail, but leave a mask, Changing the Latine, but do more obscure That sence in English which was bright and pure. So of Translators they are Authors grown, […]...
38. Late Afternoon: The Onslaught Of Love For William and Emily Maxwell At this time of day One could hear the caulking irons sound Against the hulls in the dockyard. Tar smoke rose between trees And large oily patches floated on the water, Undulating unevenly In the purple sunlight Like the surfaces of Florentine bronze. At this time of day Sounds carried […]...
39. Languages THERE are no handles upon a language Whereby men take hold of it And mark it with signs for its remembrance. It is a river, this language, Once in a thousand years Breaking a new course Changing its way to the ocean. It is mountain effluvia Moving to valleys And from nation to nation Crossing […]...
40. Vanity My tangoing seemed to delight her; With me it was love at first sight. I mentioned That I was a writer: She asked me: “What is it you write?” “Oh, only best-sellers,” I told her. Their titles? . . . She shook her blonde head; The atmosphere seemed to grow colder: Not one of my […]...