Turns And Movies: Violet Moore And Bert Moore

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1. Turns And Movies: Zudora Here on the pale beach, in the darkness; With the full moon just to rise; They sit alone, and look over the sea, Or into each other’s eyes. . . She pokes her parasol into the sleepy sand, Or sifts the lazy whiteness through her hand. ‘A lovely night,’ he says, ‘the moon, Comes up […]...
2. Turns And Movies: Rose And Murray After the movie, when the lights come up, He takes her powdered hand behind the wings; She, all in yellow, like a buttercup, Lifts her white face, yearns up to him, and clings; And with a silent, gliding step they move Over the footlights, in familiar glare, Panther-like in the Tango whirl of love, He […]...
3. Turns And Movies: Dancing Adairs Behold me, in my chiffon, gauze, and tinsel, Flitting out of the shadow into the spotlight, And into the shadow again, without a whisper!- Firefly’s my name, I am evanescent. Firefly’s your name. You are evanescent. But I follow you as remorselessly as darkness, And shut you in and enclose you, at last, and always, […]...
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: Duval's Birds The parrot, screeching, flew out into the darkness, Circled three times above the upturned faces With a great whir of brilliant outspread wings, And then returned to stagger on her finger. She bowed and smiled, eliciting applause. . . The property man hated her dirty birds. But it had taken years-yes, years-to train them, To […]...
6. The Twilight Turns The twilight turns from amethyst To deep and deeper blue, The lamp fills with a pale green glow The trees of the avenue. The old piano plays an air, Sedate and slow and gay; She bends upon the yellow keys, Her head inclines this way. Shy thought and grave wide eyes and hands That wander […]...
7. Bert Kessler I winged my bird, Though he flew toward the setting sun; But just as the shot rang out, he soared Up and up through the splinters of golden light, Till he turned right over, feathers ruffled, With some of the down of him floating near, And fell like a plummet into the grass. I tramped […]...
8. The Violet Pressed in a Copy of Shakespeare Here in the inmost of the master’s heart This violet crisp with early dew Has come to leave her beauty and to part With all her vivid hue. And while in hollow glades and dells of musk, Her fellows will reflower in bands, Clasping the deeps of shade and emerald dusk, With sweet inviolate hands, […]...
9. The Violet Down in a green and shady bed, A modest violet grew; Its stalk was bent, it hung its head As if to hide from view. And yet it was a lovely flower, Its colour bright and fair; It might have graced a rosy bower, Instead of hiding there. Yet thus it was content to bloom, […]...
10. For the Moore Centennial Celebration I ENCHANTER of Erin, whose magic has bound us, Thy wand for one moment we fondly would claim, Entranced while it summons the phantoms around us That blush into life at the sound of thy name. The tell-tales of memory wake from their slumbers, I hear the old song with its tender refrain, What passion […]...
11. To Thomas Moore My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea; But, before I go, Tom Moore, Here’s a double health to thee! Here’s a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate; And, whatever sky’s above me, Here’s a heart for every fate. Though the ocean roar […]...
12. The Yellow Violet When beechen buds begin to swell, And woods the blue-bird’s warble know, The yellow violet’s modest bell Peeps from last-year’s leaves below. Ere russet fields their green resume, Sweet flower, I love, in forest bare, To meet thee, when thy faint perfume Alone is in the virgin air. Of all her train, the hands of […]...
13. On Violet's Wafers, Sent Me When I Was Ill Fine-tissued as her finger-tips, and white As all her thoughts; in shape like shields of prize, As if before young Violet’s dreaming eyes Still blazed the two great Theban bucklers bright That swayed the random of that furious fight Where Palamon and Arcite made assize For Emily; fresh, crisp as her replies, That, not with […]...
14. On A Dead Violet The odor from the flower is gone Which like thy kisses breathed on me; The color from the flower is flown Which glowed of thee and only thee! A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form, It lies on my abandoned breast; And mocks the heart, which yet is warm, With cold and silent rest. I weep my […]...
15. To Marianne Moore If the idea of immortality is excluded, There remains dust, Grass, Water that forms puddles, The branch from which the bird sings, A certain mystery that reason Supposes a fleeting shadow. There remains, in the end, life, The room where a woman pulls on her stockings, The other room, perhaps adjoining, Where a couple undress […]...
16. Turns I thought it made me look more ‘working class’ (as if a bit of chequered cloth could bridge that gap!) I did a turn in it before the glass. My mother said: It suits you, your dad’s cap. (She preferred me to wear suits and part my hair: You’re every bit as good as that […]...
17. Invitation To Miss Marianne Moore From Brooklyn, over the Brooklyn Bridge, on this fine morning, please come flying. In a cloud of fiery pale chemicals, please come flying, To the rapid rolling of thousands of small blue drums Descending out of the mackerel sky Over the glittering grandstand of harbor-water, please come flying. Whistles, pennants and smoke are blowing. The […]...
18. John Kinsella's Lament For Mrs. Mary Moore I A bloody and a sudden end, Gunshot or a noose, For Death who takes what man would keep, Leaves what man would lose. He might have had my sister, My cousins by the score, But nothing satisfied the fool But my dear Mary Moore, None other knows what pleasures man At table or in […]...
19. THE VIOLET UPON the mead a violet stood, Retiring, and of modest mood, In truth, a violet fair. Then came a youthful shepherdess, And roam’d with sprightly joyousness, And blithely woo’d With carols sweet the air “Ah!” thought the violet, “had I been For but the smallest moment e’en Nature’s most beauteous flower, ‘Till gather’d by my […]...
20. Violet De Vere You’ve heard of Violet de Vere, strip-teaser of renown, Whose sitting-base out-faired the face of any girl in town; Well, she was haled before the Bench for breachin’ of the Peace, Which signifies araisin’ Cain, an’ beatin’ up the police. So there she stood before the Court of ruddy Judge McGraw Whom folks called Old […]...
21. Sonnet 99: The forward violet thus did I chide The forward violet thus did I chide: “Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells, If not from my love’s breath? The purple pride Which on thy soft check for complexion dwells In my love’s veins thou hast too grossly dyed.” The lily I condemnèd for thy hand, And buds of marjoram had […]...
22. River And Sea Under the light of the silver moon We two sat, when our hearts were young; The night was warm with the breath of June, And loud from the meadow the cricket sung, And darker and deeper, oh, love, than the sea, Were your dear eyes, as they beamed to me. The moon hung clear, and […]...
23. Green The dawn was apple-green, The sky was green wine held up in the sun, The moon was a golden petal between. She opened her eyes, and green They shone, clear like flowers undone, For the first time, now for the first time seen....
24. Temps Perdu I never may turn the loop of a road Where sudden, ahead, the sea is Iying, But my heart drags down with an ancient load- My heart, that a second before was flying. I never behold the quivering rain- And sweeter the rain than a lover to me- But my heart is wild in my […]...
25. Ballad of the Moon The moon came into the forge In her bustle of flowering nard. The little boy stares at her, stares. The boy is staring hard. In the shaken air The moon moves her amrs, And shows lubricious and pure, Her breasts of hard tin. “Moon, moon, moon, run! If the gypsies come, They will use your […]...
26. To – Had I a man’s fair form, then might my sighs Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell, Thine ear, and find thy gentle heart; so well Would passion arm me for the enterprise: But ah! I am no knight whose foeman dies; No cuirass glistens on my bosom’s swell; I am no happy shepherd of […]...
27. The Oldest Song “These were never your true love’s eyes. Why do you feign that you love them? You that broke from their constancies, And the wide calm brows above them! This was never your true love’s speech. Why do you thrill when you hear it? You that have ridden out of its reach The width of the […]...
28. Les Lauriers Sont Coupée Ah, love, within the shadow of the wood The laurels are cut down; some other brows May bear the classic wreath which Fame allows And find the burden honorable and good. Have we not passed the laurels as they stood Soft in the veil with which Spring endows The wintry glitter of their woven boughs […]...
29. Cherry-Time Cherries of the night are riper Than the cherries pluckt at noon Gather to your fairy piper When he pipes his magic tune: Merry, merry, Take a cherry; Mine are sounder, Mine are rounder, Mine are sweeter For the eater Under the moon. And you’ll be fairies soon. In the cherry pluckt at night, With […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. Lay It Away We will lay our summer away, my friend, So tenderly lay it away. It was bright and sweet to the very end, Like one long, golden day. Nothing sweeter could come to me, Nothing sweeter to you. We will lay it away, and let it be, Hid from the whole world’s view. We will lay […]...
32. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
33. From Citron-Bower From citron-bower be her bed, Cut from branch of tree a-flower, Fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, Cut the width of board and lathe, Carve the feet from myrtle-wood. Let the palings of her bed Be quince and box-wood overlaid With the scented bark of yew. That all the wood in […]...
34. 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...
35. Lines Written In Dejection When have I last looked on The round green eyes and the long wavering bodies Of the dark leopards of the moon? All the wild witches, those most noble ladies, For all their broom-sticks and their tears, Their angry tears, are gone. The holy centaurs of the hills are vanished; I have nothing but the […]...
36. Moon-Lover I The Moon is like a ping-pong ball; I lean against the orchard wall, And see it soar into the void, A silky sphere of celluloid. Then fairy fire enkindles it, Like gossamer by taper lit, Until it glows above the trees As mellow as a Cheddar cheese. And up and up I watch it […]...
37. Premonition ‘Twas a year ago and the moon was bright (Oh, I remember so well, so well); I walked with my love in a sea of light, And the voice of my sweet was a silver bell. And sudden the moon grew strangely dull, And sudden my love had taken wing; I looked on the face […]...
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. The Fish wade Through black jade. Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps adjusting the ash-heaps; opening and shutting itself like An Injured fan. The barnacles which encrust the side of the wave, cannot hide there for the submerged shafts of the Sun, Split like spun glass, move themselves with spotlight swiftness into the crevices- in and out, […]...
40. Ylladmar Her hair was, oh, so dense a blur Of darkness, midnight envied her; And stars grew dimmer in the skies To see the glory of her eyes; And all the summer rain of light That showered from the moon at night Fell o’er her features as the gloom Of twilight o’er a lily-bloom. The crimson […]...