Working Girls

Related poetry:

1. Blue Bridge Praise the good-tempered summer And the red cardinal That jumps Like a hot coal off the track. Praise the heavy leaves, Heroines of green, frosted With silver. Praise the litter Of torn paper, mulch And sticks, the spiny holly, Its scarlet land mines. Praise the black snake that whips And shudders its way across my […]...
2. A Working Party Three hours ago he blundered up the trench, Sliding and poising, groping with his boots; Sometimes he tripped and lurched against the walls With hands that pawed the sodden bags of chalk. He couldn’t see the man who walked in front; Only he heard the drum and rattle of feet Stepping along barred trench boards, […]...
3. What Are Big Girls Made Of? The construction of a woman: A woman is not made of flesh Of bone and sinew Belly and breasts, elbows and liver and toe. She is manufactured like a sports sedan. She is retooled, refitted and redesigned Every decade. Cecile had been seduction itself in college. She wriggled through bars like a satin eel, Her […]...
4. Turns And Movies: The Cornet When she came out, that white little Russian dancer, With her bright hair, and her eyes, so young, so young, He suddenly lost his leader, and all the players, And only heard an immortal music sung,- Of dryads flashing in the green woods of April, On cobwebs trembing over the deep, wet grass: Fleeing their […]...
5. Turns And Movies: Violet Moore And Bert Moore He thinks her little feet should pass Where dandelions star thickly grass; Her hands should lift in sunlit air Sea-wind should tangle up her hair. Green leaves, he says, have never heard A sweeter ragtime mockingbird, Nor has the moon-man ever seen, Or man in the spotlight, leering green, Such a beguiling, smiling queen. Her […]...
6. The Host Of The Air O’Driscoll drove with a song The wild duck and the drake From the tall and the tufted reeds Of the drear Hart Lake. And he saw how the reeds grew dark At the coming of night-tide, And dreamed of the long dim hair Of Bridget his bride. He heard while he sang and dreamed A […]...
7. Very Early Spring The fields are snowbound no longer; There are little blue lakes and flags of tenderest green. The snow has been caught up into the sky So many white clouds and the blue of the sky is cold. Now the sun walks in the forest, He touches the bows and stems with his golden fingers; They […]...
8. Lucinda Matlock I went to the dances at Chandlerville, And played snap-out at Winchester. One time we changed partners, Driving home in the midnight of middle June, And then I found Davis. We were married and lived together for seventy years, Enjoying, working, raising the twelve children, Eight of whom we lost Ere I had reached the […]...
9. Poem Of Night 1 I move my hand over Slopes, falls, lumps of sight, Lashes barely able to be touched, Lips that give way so easily It’s a shock to feel underneath them The bones smile. Muffled a little, barely cloaked, Zygoma, maxillary, turbinate. 2 I put my hand On the side of your face, You lean your […]...
10. Blue Girls Twirling your blue skirts, travelling the sward Under the towers of your seminary, Go listen to your teachers old and contrary Without believing a word. Tie the white fillets then about your hair And think no more of what will come to pass Than bluebirds that go walking on the grass And chattering on the […]...
11. Business Girls From the geyser ventilators Autumn winds are blowing down On a thousand business women Having baths in Camden Town Waste pipes chuckle into runnels, Steam’s escaping here and there, Morning trains through Camden cutting Shake the Crescent and the Square. Early nip of changeful autumn, Dahlias glimpsed through garden doors, At the back precarious bathrooms […]...
12. The Gardener LXXXIV: Over the Green Over the green and yellow rice-fields Sweep the shadows of the autumn Clouds followed by the swift-chasing Sun. The bees forget to sip their honey; Drunken with light they foolishly hover And hum. The ducks in the islands of the river Clamour in joy for mere nothing. Let none go back home, brothers, This morning, […]...
13. The Earth-Child in the Grass In the very early morning Long before Dawn time I lay down in the paddock And listened to the cold song of the grass. Between my fingers the green blades, And the green blades pressed against my body. “Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?” Sang the grass. “Why does she weep on my […]...
14. Summer Dawn My sleeping children are still flying dreams In their goose-down heads. The lush of the river singing morning songs Fish watch their ceilings turn sun-white. The grey-green pike lances upstream Kale, like mermaid’s hair Points the water’s drift. All is morning hush And bird beautiful. I only, I didn’t have flu....
15. Edith Conant We stand about this place we, the memories; And shade our eyes because we dread to read: “June 17th, 1884, aged 21 years and 3 days.” And all things are changed. And we we, the memories, stand here for ourselves alone, For no eye marks us, or would know why we are here. Your husband […]...
16. Working Out Van Gogh cut off his ear Gave it to a Prostitute Who flung it away in Extreme Disgust. Van, whores don’t want Ears They want Money. I guess that’s why you were Such a great Painter: you Didn’t understand Much Else....
17. May I cannot tell you how it was, But this I know: it came to pass Upon a bright and sunny day When May was young; ah, pleasant May! As yet the poppies were not born Between the blades of tender corn; The last egg had not hatched as yet, Nor any bird foregone its mate. […]...
18. Broken Dreams There is grey in your hair. Young men no longer suddenly catch their breath When you are passing; But maybe some old gaffer mutters a blessing Because it was your prayer Recovered him upon the bed of death. For your sole sake – that all heart’s ache have known, And given to others all heart’s […]...
19. PLEA FOR A HISTORY OF WORKING-CLASS LEEDS I want a true history of my city FUCK THE DE LACY FAMILY AND DOUBLE FUCK JOHN OF GAUNT ESPECIALLY And all his descendants With their particular vilenesses – I met one in the sixties Who had all the coldness of Himmler So svelte and adored by the cognoscenti. I want a history responsive To […]...
20. The Old Vicarage, Granchester Just now the lilac is in bloom, All before my little room; And in my flower-beds, I think, Smile the carnation and the pink; And down the borders, well I know, The poppy and the pansy blow… Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through, Beside the river make for you A tunnel of green gloom, and […]...
21. Subject to Change A reflection on my students They are so beautiful, and so very young They seem almost to glitter with perfection, These creatures that I briefly move among. I never get to stay with them for long, But even so, I view them with affection: They are so beautiful, and so very young. Poised or clumsy, […]...
22. Arbolй, Arbolй Tree, tree Dry and green. The girl with the pretty face Is out picking olives. The wind, playboy of towers, Grabs her around the waist. Four riders passed by On Andalusian ponies, With blue and green jackets And big, dark capes. “Come to Cordoba, muchacha.” The girl won’t listen to them. Three young bullfighters passed, […]...
23. Strings in the Earth and Air Strings in the earth and air Make music sweet; Strings by the river where The willows meet. There’s music along the river For Love wanders there, Pale flowers on his mantle, Dark leaves on his hair. All softly playing, With head to the music bent, And fingers straying Upon an instrument....
24. Crabapple Blossoms SOMEBODY’S little girl-how easy to make a sob story over who she was once and who she is now. Somebody’s little girl-she played once under a crab-apple tree in June and the blossoms fell on the dark hair. It was somewhere on the Erie line and the town was Salamanca or Painted Post or Horse’s […]...
25. Wonderment Then a wind blew; And he who had forgot he moved Lonely amid the green and silver morning weather, Suddenly grew Aware of clouds and trees Gleaming and white and shafted, shaken together And blown to music by the ruffling breeze. Like flush of wings The moment passed: he stood Dazzled with blossom in the […]...
26. Mr. Apollinax WHEN Mr. Apollinax visited the United States His laughter tinkled among the teacups. I thought of Fragilion, that shy figure among the birch-trees, And of Priapus in the shrubbery Gaping at the lady in the swing. In the palace of Mrs. Phlaccus, at Professor Channing-Cheetah’s He laughed like an irresponsible foetus. His laughter was submarine […]...
27. The Red Flower In the pleasant time of Pentecost, By the little river Kyll, I followed the angler’s winding path Or waded the stream at will, And the friendly fertile German land Lay round me green and still. But all day long on the eastern bank Of the river cool and clear, Where the curving track of the […]...
28. Lover's Gifts LXX: Take Back Your Coins Take back your coins, King’s Councillor. I am of those women you Sent to the forest shrine to decoy the young ascetic who had never Seen a women. I failed in your bidding. Dimly day was breaking when the hermit boy came to bathe in The stream, his tawny locks crowded on his shoulders, like […]...
29. The Gardener LV: It Was Mid-Day It was mid-day when you went Away. The sun was strong in the sky. I had done my work and sat alone On my balcony when you went away. Fitful gusts came winnowing Through the smells of may distant Fields. The doves cooed tireless in the shade, And a bee strayed in my room hum- […]...
30. From all the Jails the Boys and Girls From all the Jails the Boys and Girls Ecstatically leap Beloved only Afternoon That Prison doesn’t keep They storm the Earth and stun the Air, A Mob of solid Bliss Alas that Frowns should lie in wait For such a Foe as this...
31. We talked as Girls do We talked as Girls do Fond, and late We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave Of ours, none affair We handled Destinies, as cool As we Disposers be And God, a Quiet Party To our Authority But fondest, dwelt upon Ourself As we eventual be When Girls to Women, softly raised We occupy […]...
32. Little Girls Must Not Fret What is it that makes little Emily cry? Come then, let mamma wipe the tear from her eye: There­ lay down your head on my bosom­ that’s right, And now tell mamma what’s the matter to-night. What! Emmy is sleepy, and tired with play? Come, Betty, make haste then, and fetch her away; But do […]...
33. The Good-Natured Girls Two good little children, named Mary and Ann, Both happily live, as good girls always can; And though they are not either sullen or mute, They seldom or never are heard to dispute. If one wants a thing that the other would like­ Well,­what do they do? Must they quarrel and strike? No, each is […]...
34. Elegy Let them bury your big eyes In the secret earth securely, Your thin fingers, and your fair, Soft, indefinite-colored hair,- All of these in some way, surely, From the secret earth shall rise; Not for these I sit and stare, Broken and bereft completely; Your young flesh that sat so neatly On your little bones […]...
35. Song Of One Of The Girls Here in my heart I am Helen; I’m Aspasia and Hero, at least. I’m Judith, and Jael, and Madame de Stael; I’m Salome, moon of the East. Here in my soul I am Sappho; Lady Hamilton am I, as well. In me Recamier vies with Kitty O’Shea, With Dido, and Eve, and poor Nell. I’m […]...
36. Dance-Hall Girls Where are the dames I used to know In Dawson in the days of yore? Alas, it’s fifty years ago, And most, I guess, have “gone before.” The swinging scythe is swift to mow Alike the gallant and the fair; And even I, with gouty toe, Am glad to fill a rocking chair. Ah me, […]...
37. A Note Left In Jimmy Leonard's Shack Near the dry river’s water-mark we found Your brother Minnegan, Flopped like a fish against the muddy ground. Beany, the kid whose yellow hair turns green, Told me to find you, even if the rain, And tell you he was drowned. I hid behind the chassis on the bank, The wreck of someone’s Ford: I […]...
38. Gray Room Although you sit in a room that is gray, Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your green fan Printed with the red branches of a red willow; Or, with one […]...
39. Morning Poem #48 cold bed Gray day Memories Of “birds of prey” Talk for the sake Of words shaping Mouth moving Thoughts changing Energy moving Outside of self Talk for the sake Of a warm bed A sanny day And memories Of birds at play...
40. Forget-Me-Not A gallant knight and his betroth’d bride, Were walking one day by a river side, They talk’d of love, and they talk’d of war, And how very foolish lovers are. At length the bride to the knight did say, ‘There have been many young ladies led astray By believing in all their lovers said, And […]...