Mohammed Bek Hadjetlache
THIS Mohammedan colonel from the Caucasus yells with his voice and wigwags with his arms.
The interpreter translates, “I was a friend of Kornilov, he asks me what to do and I tell him. ”
A stub of a man, this Mohammedan colonel … a projectile shape … a bald head hammered …
ВЂњDoes he fight or do they put him in a cannon and shoot him at the enemy? ”
This fly-by-night, this bull-roarer who knows everybody.
ВЂњI write forty books, history of Islam, history of Europe, true religion, scientific farming, I am the Roosevelt of the Caucasus, I go to America and ride horses in the moving pictures for $500,000, you get $50,000 …”
ВЂњI have 30,000 acres in the Caucasus, I have a stove factory in Petrograd the bolsheviks take from me, I am an old friend of the Czar, I am an old family friend of Clemenceau …”
These hands strangled three fellow workers for the czarist restoration, took their money, sent them in sacks to a river bottom … and scandalized Stockholm with his gang of strangler women.
Mid-sea strangler hands rise before me illustrating a wish, “I ride horses for the moving pictures in America, $500,000, and you get ten per cent …”
This rider of fugitive dawns. …
Related poetry:
- Moving On In this war we’re always moving, Moving on; When we make a friend another friend has gone; Should a woman’s kindly face Make us welcome for a space, Then it’s boot and saddle, boys, we’re Moving on. In the hospitals they’re moving, Moving on; They’re here today, tomorrow they are gone; When the bravest and […]...
- The Growth of Lorraine I While I stood listening, discreetly dumb, Lorraine was having the last word with me: ВЂњI know, ” she said, “I know it, but you see Some creatures are born fortunate, and some Are born to be found out and overcome, — Born to be slaves, to let the rest go free; And if I’m […]...
- Taking Leave of a Friend Blue mountains lie beyond the north wall; Round the city’s eastern side flows the white water. Here we part, friend, once forever. You go ten thousand miles, drifting away Like an unrooted water-grass. Oh, the floating clouds and the thoughts of a wanderer! Oh, the sunset and the longing of an old friend! We ride […]...
- Colonel Martin I The Colonel went out sailing, He spoke with Turk and Jew, With Christian and with Infidel, For all tongues he knew. ‘O what’s a wifeless man?’ said he, And he came sailing home. He rose the latch and went upstairs And found an empty room. The Colonel went out sailing. II ‘I kept her […]...
- Through The Metodja To Abd-El-Kadr 1842 I As I ride, as I ride, With a full heart for my guide, So its tide rocks my side, As I ride, as I ride, That, as I were double-eyed, He, in whom our Tribes confide, Is descried, ways untried As I ride, as I ride. II As I ride, as I ride […]...
- Making The Lion For All It's Got A Ballad I came home and found a lion in my room… [First draft of “The Lion for Real” CP 174-175] A lion met America In the road They stared at each other Two figures on the crossroads in the desert. America screamed The lion roared They leaped at each other America desperate to win Fighting with […]...
- There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
- Freedoms Plow When a man starts out with nothing, When a man starts out with his hands Empty, but clean, When a man starts to build a world, He starts first with himself And the faith that is in his heart- The strength there, The will there to build. First in the heart is the dream- Then […]...
- Accomplished Facts EVERY year Emily Dickinson sent one friend The first arbutus bud in her garden. In a last will and testament Andrew Jackson Remembered a friend with the gift of George Washington’s pocket spy-glass. Napoleon too, in a last testament, mentioned a silver Watch taken from the bedroom of Frederick the Great, And passed along this […]...
- The Plowboy AFTER the last red sunset glimmer, Black on the line of a low hill rise, Formed into moving shadows, I saw A plowboy and two horses lined against the gray, Plowing in the dusk the last furrow. The turf had a gleam of brown, And smell of soil was in the air, And, cool and […]...
- Horses and Men in Rain LET us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter’s day, gray wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window, And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery boys. Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot punches-and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys slipping along the icy sidewalks. […]...
- At Galway Races There where the course is, Delight makes all of the one mind, The riders upon the galloping horses, The crowd that closes in behind: We, too, had good attendance once, Hearers and hearteners of the work; Aye, horsemen for companions, Before the merchant and the clerk Breathed on the world with timid breath. Sing on: […]...
- The Colonel What you have heard is true. I was in his house. His wife carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His Daughter filed her nails, his son went out for the Night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol On the cushion beside him. The moon swung bare on Its black cord over the […]...
- Leather Leggings THEY have taken the ball of earth and made it a little thing. They were held to the land and horses; they were held to the little seas. They have changed and shaped and welded; they have broken the old tools and made new ones; they are ranging the white scarves of cloudland; they are […]...
- 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 […]...
- Rio Grande's Last Race Now this was what Macpherson told While waiting in the stand; A reckless rider, over-bold, The only man with hands to hold The rushing Rio Grande. He said, ‘This day I bid good-bye To bit and bridle rein, To ditches deep and fences high, For I have dreamed a dream, and I Shall never ride […]...
- Rio Grande Now this was what Macpherson told While waiting in the stand; A reckless rider, over-bold, The only man with hands to hold The rushing Rio Grande. He said, “This day I bid good-bye To bit and bridle rein, To ditches deep and fences high, For I have dreamed a dream, and I Shall never ride […]...
- Cantico del Sole The thought of what America would be like If the Classics had a wide circulation Troubles my sleep, The thought of what America, The thought of what America, The thought of what America would be like If the Classics had a wide circulation Troubles my sleep. Nunc dimittis, now lettest thou thy servant, Now lettest […]...
- Tommy Corrigan You talk of riders on the flat, of nerve and pluck and pace Not one in fifty has the nerve to ride a steeplechase. It’s right enough, while horses pull and take their faces strong, To rush a flier to the front and bring the field along; Bur what about the last half-mile, with horses […]...
- Riders in the Stand There’s some that ride the Robbo style, and bump at every stride; While others sit a long way back, to get a longer ride. There’s some that ride as sailors do, with legs, and arms, and teeth; And some that ride the horse’s neck, and some ride underneath. But all the finest horsemen out the […]...
- Million Man March Poem The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been steep. Under a dead blue sky on a distant beach, I was dragged by my braids just beyond your reach. Your hands were tied, your mouth was bound, You couldn’t even call out my name. […]...
- America America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing. America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956. I can’t stand my own mind. America when will we end the human war? Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb. I don’t feel good don’t bother me. I won’t write my poem till I’m in my […]...
- This Is A Poem I Wrote At Night, Before The Dawn This is a poem I wrote before I died and was reborn: – After the years of the apples ripening and the eagles soaring, After the festival here the small flowers gleamed like the first stars, And the horses cantered and romped away like the experience of skill; mastered and serene Power, grasped and governed […]...
- The Fair Maid of Perth's House All ye good people, afar and near, To my request pray lend an ear; I advise you all without delay to go And see the Fair Maid’s House – it is a rare show. Some of the chairs there are very grand, They have been cut and carved by a skilful hand; And kings, perchance, […]...
- Dream Song 130: When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought When I saw my friend covered with blood, I thought This is the end of the dream, now I’ll wake up. That was more years ago Than I care to reckon, and my friend is not Dying but adhering to an élite group In California O. Why did I never wake, when covered with blood […]...
- I, Too, Sing America I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong. Tomorrow, I’ll be at the table When company comes. Nobody’ll dare Say to me, “Eat in the kitchen,” Then. Besides, They’ll see how beautiful I am […]...
- While History's Muse While History’s Muse the memorial was keeping Of all that the dark hand of Destiny weaves, Beside her the Genius of Erin stood weeping, For hers was the story that blotted the leaves. But oh! how the tear in her eyelids grew bright, When, after whole pages of sorrow and shame, She saw History write, […]...
- Baby Toes THERE is a blue star, Janet, Fifteen years’ ride from us, If we ride a hundred miles an hour. There is a white star, Janet, Forty years’ ride from us, If we ride a hundred miles an hour. Shall we ride To the blue star Or the white star?...
- Song of the Bowmen of Shu Here we are, picking the first fern-shoots And saying: When shall we get back to our country? Here we are because we have the Ken-nin for our foemen, We have no comfort because of these Mongols. We grub the soft fern-shoots, When anyone says “Return,” the others are full of sorrow. Sorrowful minds, sorrow is […]...
- The Ballad Of The Children Of The Czar 1 The children of the Czar Played with a bouncing ball In the May morning, in the Czar’s garden, Tossing it back and forth. It fell among the flowerbeds Or fled to the north gate. A daylight moon hung up In the Western sky, bald white. Like Papa’s face, said Sister, Hurling the white ball […]...
- An Electric Sign Goes Dark POLAND, France, Judea ran in her veins, Singing to Paris for bread, singing to Gotham in a fizz at the pop of a bottle’s cork. ВЂњWon’t you come and play wiz me” she sang … and “I just can’t make my eyes behave. ” ВЂњHiggeldy-Piggeldy, ” “Papa’s Wife, ” “Follow Me” were plays. Did she […]...
- The Instructor At times when under cover I ‘ave said, To keep my spirits up an’ raise a laugh, ‘Earin ‘im pass so busy over-‘ead Old Nickel-Neck, ‘oo is n’t on the Staff “There’s one above is greater than us all” Before ‘im I ‘ave seen my Colonel fall, An ‘watched ‘im write my Captain’s epitaph, So […]...
- Daybreak In Alabama When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music about Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest songs in it Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist And falling out of heaven like soft dew. I’m gonna put some tall tall trees in it And the scent […]...
- The Firebombers We are America. We are the coffin fillers. We are the grocers of death. We pack them in crates like cauliflowers. The bomb opens like a shoebox. And the child? The child is certainly not yawning. And the woman? The woman is bathing her heart. It has been torn out of her And as a […]...
- Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
- Ode To Maize America, from a grain Of maize you grew To crown With spacious lands The ocean foam. A grain of maize was your geography. From the grain A green lance rose, Was covered with gold, To grace the heights Of Peru with its yellow tassels. But, poet, let History rest in its shroud; Praise with your […]...
- States! STATES! Were you looking to be held together by the lawyers? By an agreement on a paper? Or by arms? Away! I arrive, bringing these, beyond all the forces of courts and arms, These! to hold you together as firmly as the earth itself is held together. The old breath of life, ever new, Here! […]...
- Players Ask For A Blessing On The Psalteries And On Themselves Three Voices [together]. Hurry to bless the hands that play, The mouths that speak, the notes and strings, O masters of the glittering town! O! lay the shrilly trumpet down, Though drunken with the flags that sway Over the ramparts and the towers, And with the waving of your wings. First Voice. Maybe they linger […]...
- Horse What does the horse give you That I cannot give you? I watch you when you are alone, When you ride into the field behind the dairy, Your hands buried in the mare’s Dark mane. Then I know what lies behind your silence: Scorn, hatred of me, of marriage. Still, You want me to touch […]...
- The Toucan Tell me who can Catch a toucan? Lou can. Just how few can Ride the toucan? Two can. What kind of goo can Stick you to the toucan? Glue can. Who can write some More about the toucan? You can!...