Short Order

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1. 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 […]...
2. The Made to Order Smile When a woman looks up at you with a twist about her eyes, And her brows are half uplifted in a nicely feigned surprise As you breathe some pretty sentence, though she hates you all the while, She is very apt to stun you with a made to order smile. It’s a sublte combination of […]...
3. Felixstowe, or The Last of Her Order With one consuming roar along the shingle The long wave claws and rakes the pebbles down To where its backwash and the next wave mingle, A mounting arch of water weedy-brown Against the tide the off-shore breezes blow. Oh wind and water, this is Felixstowe. In winter when the sea winds chill and shriller Than […]...
4. The Idea Of Order At Key West She sang beyond the genius of the sea. The water never formed to mind or voice, Like a body wholly body, fluttering Its empty sleeves; and yet its mimic motion Made constant cry, caused constantly a cry, That was not ours although we understood, Inhuman, of the veritable ocean. The sea was not a mask. […]...
5. A HOPE FOR POETRY: REMEMBERING THE SIXTIES There was a hope for poetry in the sixties And for education and society, teachers free To do as they wanted: I could and did teach Poetry and art all day and little else – That was my way. I threw rainbows against the classroom walls, Gold and silver dragons in the corridors and Halls; […]...
6. The Winters are so short The Winters are so short I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away And moving into Pod Myself for scarcely settled The Phoebes have begun And then it’s time to strike my Tent And open House again It’s mostly, interruptions My Summer is despoiled Because there was a Winter once And al the Cattle […]...
7. Days Too Short When primroses are out in Spring, And small, blue violets come between; When merry birds sing on boughs green, And rills, as soon as born, must sing; When butterflies will make side-leaps, As though escaped from Nature’s hand Ere perfect quite; and bees will stand Upon their heads in fragrant deeps; When small clouds are […]...
8. A Very Short Song Once, when I was young and true, Someone left me sad- Broke my brittle heart in two; And that is very bad. Love is for unlucky folk, Love is but a curse. Once there was a heart I broke; And that, I think, is worse....
9. Be My Mistress Short or Tall Be my mistress short or tall And distorted therewithall Be she likewise one of those That an acre hath of nose Be her teeth ill hung or set And her grinders black as jet Be her cheeks so shallow too As to show her tongue wag through Hath she thin hair, hath she none She’s […]...
10. Variations on ‘The short night Below are eleven Buson haiku Beginning with the phrase ‘The short night ‘ The short night On the hairy caterpillar Beads of dew. The short night Patrolmen Washing in the river. The short night Bubbles of crab froth Among the river reeds. The short night A broom thrown away On the beach. The short night […]...
11. From The Short Story What The Swallows Did Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow, Starting on your autumn flight, Pause a moment at my window, Twitter softly your good-night; For the summer days are over, All your duties are well done, And the happy homes you builded Have grown empty, one by one. Swallow, swallow, neighbor swallow, Are you ready for your flight? Are all […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. Contained in this short Life Contained in this short Life Are magical extents The soul returning soft at night To steal securer thence As Children strictest kept Turn soonest to the sea Whose nameless Fathoms slink away Beside infinity...
14. That short potential stir That short potential stir That each can make but once That Bustle so illustrious ‘Tis almost Consequence Is the eclat of Death Oh, thou unknown Renown That not a Beggar would accept Had he the power to spurn...
15. I reason, Earth is short I reason, Earth is short And Anguish absolute And many hurt, But, what of that? I reason, we could die The best Vitality Cannot excel Decay, But, what of that? I reason, that in Heaven Somehow, it will be even Some new Equation, given But, what of that?...
16. From The Short Story A Christmas Dream, And How It Came True From our happy home Through the world we roam One week in all the year, Making winter spring With the joy we bring For Christmas-tide is here. Now the eastern star Shines from afar To light the poorest home; Hearts warmer grow, Gifts freely flow, For Christmas-tide has come. Now gay trees rise Before young […]...
17. From The Short Story Shadow-Children Little shadows, little shadows Dancing on the chamber wall, While I sit beside the hearthstone Where the red flames rise and fall. Caps and nightgowns, caps and nightgowns, My three antic shadows wear; And no sound they make in playing, For the six small feet are bare. Dancing gayly, dancing gayly, To and fro all […]...
18. Every Time I laugh Aloud (An Ode to Short People) Every time I laugh aloud, who springs to mind but Johnnie Howard? Cathartic laughter eases stress which Johnnie causes in excess, So when I hum acerbic lines of Randy Newman’s quirky song ‘don’t want no short people ’round here’, I am reminded there are valid grounds for jeering men With little minds. Newman claim’s ‘they’re […]...
19. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
20. To The Whore Who Took My Poems some say we should keep personal remorse from the Poem, Stay abstract, and there is some reason in this, But jezus; Twelve poems gone and I don’t keep carbons and you have My Paintings too, my best ones; its stifling: Are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them? Why didn’t you […]...
21. HYMN How I love the working-class girls of Leeds, Their mile-wide smiles, eyes bright as beads, Their young breasts bobbing as they run, Hands quick as darting fish, lithe legs Bare as they scramble over the Hollows With brown-soled feet and dimpled bums Half-covered with knickers, and short frocks Full of flowers and their delicate ears, […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. New Mexico I was fairly drunk when it Began and I took out my bottle and used it Along the way. I was reading a week or two after Kandel and I did not look quite as Pretty but I brought it off and we Ended up at the Webbs, 6, 8, 10 of Us, and I […]...
24. 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 […]...
25. At a Poetry Party I Am Given the Rhyme Chih Although I’ve studied poetry for thirty years I try to keep my mouth shut and avoid reputation. Now who is this nosy gentleman talking about my poetry Like Yang Ching-chih Who spoke of Hsiang Ssu everywhere he went....
26. Poetry And Religion Religions are poems. They concert Our daylight and dreaming mind, our Emotions, instinct, breath and native gesture Into the only whole thinking: poetry. Nothing’s said till it’s dreamed out in words And nothing’s true that figures in words only. A poem, compared with an arrayed religion, May be like a soldier’s one short marriage night […]...
27. The Walking Man of Rodin LEGS hold a torso away from the earth. And a regular high poem of legs is here. Powers of bone and cord raise a belly and lungs Out of ooze and over the loam where eyes look and ears hear And arms have a chance to hammer and shoot and run motors. You make us […]...
28. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
29. Be Kind we are always asked To understand the other person’s Viewpoint No matter how Out-dated Foolish or Obnoxious. One is asked To view Their total error Their life-waste With Kindliness, Especially if they are Aged. But age is the total of Our doing. They have aged Badly Because they have Lived Out of focus, They have […]...
30. My Groupie I read last Saturday in the Redwoods outside of Santa Cruz And I was about 3/4’s finished When I heard a long high scream And a quite attractive Young girl came running toward me Long gown & divine eyes of fire And she leaped up on the stage And screamed: “I WANT YOU! I WANT […]...
31. At Cheyenne Young Lochinvar came in from the West, With fringe on his trousers and fur on his vest; The width of his hat-brim could nowhere be beat, His No. Brogans were chuck full of feet, His girdle was horrent with pistols and things, And he flourished a handful of aces on kings. The fair Mariana sate […]...
32. Metamorphosis a girlfriend came in Built me a bed Scrubbed and waxed the kitchen floor Scrubbed the walls Vacuumed Cleaned the toilet The bathtub Scrubbed the bathroom floor And cut my toenails and My hair. Then All on the same day The plumber came and fixed the kitchen faucet And the toilet And the gas man […]...
33. Preface This book is not about heroes. English Poetry is not yet fit to speak of them. Nor is it about deeds or lands, nor anything about glory, honour, dominion or power, except War. Above all, this book is not concerned with Poetry. The subject of it is War, and the pity of War. The Poetry […]...
34. Eating Poetry Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry. The librarian does not believe what she sees. Her eyes are sad And she walks with her hands in her dress. The poems are gone. The light is dim. The dogs are on the basement stairs […]...
35. On My First Son Farewell, thou child of my right hand, and joy; My sin was too much hope of thee, loved boy. Seven years thou wert lent to me, and I thee pay, Exacted by thy fate, on the just day. Oh, could I lose all father now! For why Will man lament the state he should envy? […]...
36. April 19 We have too much exhibitionism And not enough voyeurism In poetry we have plenty of bass And not enough treble, more amber Beer than the frat boys can drink but Less red wine than meets the lip In this beaker of the best Bordeaux, Too much thesis, too little antithesis And way too much New […]...
37. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
38. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
39. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
40. Thing Language This ocean, humiliating in its disguises Tougher than anything. No one listens to poetry. The ocean Does not mean to be listened to. A drop Or crash of water. It means Nothing. It Is bread and butter Pepper and salt. The death That young men hope for. Aimlessly It pounds the shore. White and aimless […]...