Home Thoughts

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1. Home Thoughts, From The Sea Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away; Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay; Bluish ‘mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay; In the dimmest North-east distance dawned Gibraltar grand and grey; “Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?”-say, Whoso turns as I, […]...
2. Home Thoughts Oh something just now must be happening there! That suddenly and quiveringly here, Amid the city’s noises, I must think Of mangoes leaning o’er the river’s brink, And dexterous Davie climbing high above, The gold fruits ebon-speckled to remove, And toss them quickly in the tangled mass Of wis-wis twisted round the guinea grass; And […]...
3. Home Thoughts, From Abroad Oh, to be in England Now that April’s there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England-now! And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and […]...
4. Caboose Thoughts IT’S going to come out all right—do you know? The sun, the birds, the grass—they know. They get along—and we’ll get along. Some days will be rainy and you will sit waiting And the letter you wait for won’t come, And I will sit watching the sky tear off gray and gray And the letter […]...
5. Fire Dreams I REMEMBER here by the fire, In the flickering reds and saffrons, They came in a ramshackle tub, Pilgrims in tall hats, Pilgrims of iron jaws, Drifting by weeks on beaten seas, And the random chapters say They were glad and sang to God. And so Since the iron-jawed men sat down And said, “Thanks, […]...
6. Home Burial He saw her from the bottom of the stairs Before she saw him. She was starting down, Looking back over her shoulder at some fear. She took a doubtful step and then undid it To raise herself and look again. He spoke Advancing toward her: ‘What is it you see From up there always for […]...
7. Oh Stay At Home, My Lad Oh stay at home, my lad, and plough The land and not the sea, And leave the soldiers at their drill, And all about the idle hill Shepherd your sheep with me. Oh stay with company and mirth And daylight and the air; Too full already is the grave Of fellows that were good and […]...
8. The Old Home Calls Come back to me, little dancing feet that roam the wide world o’er, I long for the lilt of your flying steps in my silent rooms once more; Come back to me, little voices gay with laughter and with song, Come back, little hearts beating high with hopes, I have missed and mourned you long. […]...
9. Letter Home New Orleans, November 1910 Four weeks have passed since I left, and still I must write to you of no work. I’ve worn down The soles and walked through the tightness Of my new shoes calling upon the merchants, Their offices bustling. All the while I kept thinking My plain English and good writing would […]...
10. Dead thoughts of corpses The symbols that we use are T shirts of the dead Thoughts of corpses without heads, a rictus Without sound – open-mouthed, empty, unbound. And if you ever write those clichés which incite My approbation, fuck you, I am not amused. And if I ever do, then fuck me too. I battle with the icons […]...
11. The Caged Thrush Freed and Home Again (Villanelle) “Men know but little more than we, Who count us least of things terrene, How happy days are made to be! “Of such strange tidings what think ye, O birds in brown that peck and preen? Men know but little more than we! “When I was borne from yonder tree In bonds to them, I […]...
12. A Home Song I read within a poet’s book A word that starred the page: “Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage!” Yes, that is true; and something more You’ll find, where’er you roam, That marble floors and gilded walls Can never make a home. But every house where Love abides, And Friendship […]...
13. Yad Mordechai Yad Mordechai. Those who fell here Still look out the windows like sick children Who are not allowed outside to play. And on the hillside, the battle is reenacted For the benefit of hikers and tourists. Soldiers of thin sheet iron Rise and fall and rise again. Sheet iron dead and a sheet iron life […]...
14. The Widow at Windsor ‘Ave you ‘eard o’ the Widow at Windsor With a hairy gold crown on ‘er ‘ead? She ‘as ships on the foam she ‘as millions at ‘ome, An’ she pays us poor beggars in red. (Ow, poor beggars in red!) There’s ‘er nick on the cavalry ‘orses, There’s ‘er mark on the medical stores An’ […]...
15. Down Home Down home to-night the moonshine falls Across a hill with daisies pied, The pear tree by the garden gate Beckons with white arms like a bride. A savor as of trampled fern Along the whispering meadow stirs, And, beacon of immortal love, A light is shining through the firs. To my old gable window creeps […]...
16. THOUGHTS ON JESUS CHRIST'S DESCENT INTO HELL THOUGHTS ON JESUS CHRIST’S DESCENT INTO HELL. [THE remarkable Poem of which this is a literal But faint representation, was written when Goethe was only sixteen Years old. It derives additional interest from the fact of its being The very earliest piece of his that is preserved. The few other Pieces included by Goethe under […]...
17. Take One Home For The Kiddies On shallow straw, in shadeless glass, Huddled by empty bowls, they sleep: No dark, no dam, no earth, no grass – Mam, get us one of them to keep. Living toys are something novel, But it soon wears off somehow. Fetch the shoebox, fetch the shovel – Mam, we’re playing funerals now....
18. Unknown Girl In A Maternity Ward Child, the current of your breath is six days long. You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed; Lie, fisted like a snail, so small and strong At my breast. Your lips are animals; you are fed With love. At first hunger is not wrong. The nurses nod their caps; you are shepherded Down […]...
19. It's thoughts and just One Heart It’s thoughts and just One Heart And Old Sunshine about Make frugal Ones Content And two or three for Company Upon a Holiday Crowded as Sacrament Books when the Unit Spare the Tenant long eno’ A Picture if it Care Itself a Gallery too rare For needing more Flowers to keep the Eyes from going […]...
20. Noe more unto my thoughts appeare NOE more unto my thoughts appeare, Att least appeare lesse fayre, For crazy tempers justly feare The goodnesse of the ayre; Whilst your pure Image hath a place 5 In my impurer Mynde, Your very shaddow is the glasse Where my defects I finde. Shall I not fly that brighter light Which makes my fyres […]...
21. The Home-Coming My boy’s come back; he’s here at last; He came home on a special train. My longing and my ache are past, My only son is back again. He’s home with music, flags and flowers; With peace and joy my heart’s abrim; He got here in the morning hours With half the town to welcome […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Thoughts Of Phena at news of her death Not a line of her writing have I Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby I may picture her there; And in vain do I urge my unsight To conceive my lost prize At her close, whom I knew […]...
24. Come Home! When wintry winds are no more heard, And joy’s in every bosom, When summer sings in every bird, And shines in every blossom, When happy twilight hours are long, Come home, my love, and think no wrong! When berries gleam above the stream And half the fields are yellow, Come back to me, my joyous […]...
25. Thoughts in a Garden HOW vainly men themselves amaze To win the palm, the oak, or bays, And their uncessant labours see Crown’d from some single herb or tree, Whose short and narrow-verged shade Does prudently their toils upbraid; While all the flowers and trees do close To weave the garlands of repose! Fair Quiet, have I found thee […]...
26. The rest home professor piebald (the oldest man in the home) was meek At the same time ribald He clothed his matter (so to speak) In latin and (was it) greek It caused no great offence To nobody did it make sense To make a rude joke In languages nobody spoke Once he’d changed the word agenda At […]...
27. Back Home Thoughts, go your way home. Embrace, depths of the soul and the sea. In my view, it is stupid To be always serene. My cabin is the worst of all cabins – All night above me Thuds a smithy of feet. All night, stirring the ceiling’s calm, Dancers stampede to a moaning motif: “Marquita, Marquita, […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. Sweet Stay-at-Home Sweet Stay-at-Home, sweet Well-content, Thou knowest of no strange continent; Thou hast not felt thy bosom keep A gentle motion with the deep; Thou hast not sailed in Indian seas, Where scent comes forth in every breeze. Thou hast not seen the rich grape grow For miles, as far as eyes can go: Thou hast […]...
30. The Remains I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets. I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. At night I turn back the clocks; I open the family album and look at myself as a boy. What good does it do? The hours have done their job. I say my […]...
31. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
32. The Shovel Man ON the street Slung on his shoulder is a handle half way across, Tied in a big knot on the scoop of cast iron Are the overalls faded from sun and rain in the ditches; Spatter of dry clay sticking yellow on his left sleeve And a flimsy shirt open at the throat, I know […]...
33. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
34. Thoughts On The Works Of Providence A R I S E, my soul, on wings enraptur’d, rise To praise the monarch of the earth and skies, Whose goodness and benificence appear As round its centre moves the rolling year, Or when the morning glows with rosy charms, Or the sun slumbers in the ocean’s arms: Of light divine be a rich […]...
35. I Come Home Wanting To Touch Everyone The dogs greet me, I descend Into their world of fur and tongues And then my wife and I embrace As if we’d just closed the door In a motel, our two girls slip in Between us and we’re all saying Each other’s names and the dogs Buster and Sundown are on their hind legs, […]...
36. The Gardener XLVI: You Left Me You left me and went on your way. I thought I should mourn for you And set your solitary image in my Heart wrought in a golden song. But ah, my evil fortune, time is Short. Youth wanes year after year; the Spring days are fugitive; the frail Flowers die for nothing, and the wise […]...
37. A Letter Home (To Robert Graves) I Here I’m sitting in the gloom Of my quiet attic room. France goes rolling all around, Fledged with forest May has crowned. And I puff my pipe, calm-hearted, Thinking how the fighting started, Wondering when we’ll ever end it, Back to hell with Kaiser sent it, Gag the noise, pack up […]...
38. "Birds of Prey" March March! The mud is cakin’ good about our trousies. Front! eyes front, an’ watch the Colour-casin’s drip. Front! The faces of the women in the ‘ouses Ain’t the kind o’ things to take aboard the ship. Cheer! An’ we’ll never march to victory. Cheer! An’ we’ll never live to ‘ear the cannon roar! The Large […]...
39. In the Home Stretch SHE stood against the kitchen sink, and looked Over the sink out through a dusty window At weeds the water from the sink made tall. She wore her cape; her hat was in her hand. Behind her was confusion in the room, Of chairs turned upside down to sit like people In other chairs, and […]...
40. Lines Written From Home Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strown, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan; There is a friendly roof, I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast; There is a fire, whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past. And […]...