Very Seldom

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1. It seldom snowed, they said – Part I It seldom snowed, they said, it might get cold but it won’t be snow; Well, one should guess the locals know the weather best and I was new, So when I left the warmth of the limited express and descended onto A dimly lit, deserted siding I was not impressed to find the ground at […]...
2. Desires Like beautiful bodies of the dead who had not grown old And they shut them, with tears, in a magnificent mausoleum, With roses at the head and jasmine at the feet This is what desires resemble that have passed Without fulfillment; with none of them having achieved A night of sensual delight, or a bright […]...
3. Poetry For Supper ‘Listen, now, verse should be as natural As the small tuber that feeds on muck And grows slowly from obtuse soil To the white flower of immortal beauty.’ ‘Natural, hell! What was it Chaucer Said once about the long toil That goes like blood to the poem’s making? Leave it to nature and the verse […]...
4. It seldom snowed – Part II It seldom snowed in Camp they said, on the mountains, yes, And in the Styx, aka zone six. That’s where we were afoot In alpine grass, garbed to test our winter skills, Tramp the craggy hills and camp a night or two, Spy a special site, an outing planned To ready us for troop command. […]...
5. It seldom snowed – Part IV It seldom snowed they said, Perhaps they’re right Although seldom was never In that endless summer Which tightened a fiery grip by day, Baking the plateau, Relentlessly melting its snow. It began as a cliché On a slow day In a new January Of stupid heat That penetrated the heart, Enslaving energies replete With blinding […]...
6. It seldom snowed – Part III It seldom snowed they said, and they were nearly right. In all of nine eventful Seasons crystal white on average graced the place just twice a year. A smaller Fall, an over-night preceded heavy snow. And heavy snow remained a week, Blocked drains and closed the Desert Road; but no complaints, our children Played in […]...
7. A Word made Flesh is seldom A Word made Flesh is seldom And tremblingly partook Nor then perhaps reported But have I not mistook Each one of us has tasted With ecstasies of stealth The very food debated To our specific strength A Word that breathes distinctly Has not the power to die Cohesive as the Spirit It may expire if […]...
8. Admire their style I’m reading fellow poets’ blogs today, A sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment Or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though It is to sigh about uneasy affirmation. I hope when they read me (if they ever do) They rest as easy on my lack of finished form, The hazy, […]...
9. Sonnet 76: Why is my verse so barren of new pride? Why is my verse so barren of new pride? So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my […]...
10. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
11. Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
12. Sonnet 86: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all-too-precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor […]...
13. Sonnet LXXXVI Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither […]...
14. Salesmanship, With Half A Dram Of Tears Gripping the lectern, rocking it, searching The faces for the souls, for signs of heartfelt Mindfulness at work, I thought, as I recited Words I wrote in tears: instead of tears, If I had understood my father’s business, I could be selling men’s clothes. I could be Kneeling, complimenting someone at the bay Of mirrors, […]...
15. The Woman So beautiful God himself quailed At her approach: the long body curved Like the horizon. Why had he made Her so? How would it be, she said, Leaning towards him, if instead of Quarreling over it, we divided it Between us? You can have all the credit For its invention, if you will leave the […]...
16. Cosmopolitan Greetings To Struga Festival Golden Wreath Laureates & International Bards 1986 Stand up against governments, against God. Stay irresponsible. Say only what we know & imagine. Absolutes are coercion. Change is absolute. Ordinary mind includes eternal perceptions. Observe what’s vivid. Notice what you notice. Catch yourself thinking. Vividness is self-selecting. If we don’t show anyone, we’re […]...
17. Since Nine O'Clock Half past twelve. Time has gone by quickly Since nine o’clock when I lit the lamp And sat down here. I’ve been sitting without reading, Without speaking. Completely alone in the house, Whom could I talk to? Since nine o’clock when I lit the lamp The shade of my young body Has come to haunt […]...
18. To His Honoured and Most Ingenious Friend Mr. Charles Cotton For brave comportment, wit without offence, Words fully flowing, yet of influence: Thou art that man of men, the man alone, Worthy the public admiration: Who with thine own eyes read’st what we do write, And giv’st our numbers euphony, and weight. Tell’st when a verse springs high, how understood To be, or not born […]...
19. TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW Since to the country first I came, I have lost my former flame; And, methinks, I not inherit, As I did, my ravish’d spirit. If I write a verse or two, ‘Tis with very much ado; In regard I want that wine Which should conjure up a line. Yet, though now of Muse bereft, I […]...
20. TO MIGNON OVER vale and torrent far Rolls along the sun’s bright car. Ah! he wakens in his course Mine, as thy deep-seated smart In the heart. Ev’ry morning with new force. Scarce avails night aught to me; E’en the visions that I see Come but in a mournful guise; And I feel this silent smart In […]...
21. Some time Last night, my darling, as you slept, I thought I heard you sigh, And to your little crib I crept, And watched a space thereby; And then I stooped and kissed your brow, For oh! I love you so You are too young to know it now, But some time you shall know! Some time […]...
22. The shakes now pay attention (said the teacher) And look up here The children looked up This is william shakespeare Four centuries up On a pedestal Was shakespeare’s head He was what we call A great man The children got sore necks Looking up And some began to look down No no You mustn’t look down (said […]...
23. The Story of Uriah Jack Barrett went to Quetta Because they told him to. He left his wife at Simla On three-fourths his monthly screw. Jack Barrett died at Quetta Ere the next month’s pay he drew. Jack Barrett went to Quetta. He didn’t understand The reason of his transfer From the pleasant mountain-land. The season was September, And […]...
24. 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 […]...
25. Arabian Nights When the call of the hudud, Echoes through the palm fronds Carrying in their mists, Visions, memories: Caravans of high spirited steads, Crisscrossing the endless seas of sand, Rushing through the oasis, Free, yet under control. Of women washing in the hot springs, Sheltered in the evergreen palms, Weaving baskets, Cooking, sewing, scampering after the […]...
26. August 17th Good for visiting hospitals or charitable work. Take some time to attend to your health. Surely I will be disquieted By the hospital, that body zone Bodies wrapped in elastic bands, Bodies cased in wood or used like telephones, Bodies crucified up onto their crutches, Bodies wearing rubber bags between their legs, Bodies vomiting up […]...
27. Jack's Legacy The critic gushed and said, “Just like Jack, So raw, I never thought to see another writer just Like Kerouac!” Kerouac, who the fuck is he? A writer? Christ, that’s a laugh, compare me to a writer! Let’s face it I’m no hack, I’m not so much to look at either, But maybe Jack took […]...
28. Circumstantial Evidence She does not mind a good cigar (The kind, that is, I smoke); She thinks all men quite stupid are, (But laughs whene’er I joke). She says she does not care for verse (But praises all I write); She says that punning is a curse, (But then mine are so bright!) She does not like […]...
29. Iambicum Trimetrum Unhappy verse, the witness of my unhappy state, Make thy self flutt’ring wings of thy fast flying Thought, and fly forth unto my love, wheresoever she be: Whether lying restless in heavy bed, or else Sitting so cheerless at the cheerful board, or else Playing alone careless on her heavenly virginals. If in bed, tell […]...
30. Sonnet 17: Who will believe my verse in time to come Who will believe my verse in time to come If it were filled with your most high deserts? Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts: If I could write the beauty of your eyes, And in fresh numbers number all your graces, […]...
31. Sonnet XVII Who will believe my verse in time to come, If it were fill’d with your most high deserts? Though yet, heaven knows, it is but as a tomb Which hides your life and shows not half your parts. If I could write the beauty of your eyes And in fresh numbers number all your graces, […]...
32. When All My Five And Country Senses See When all my five and country senses see, The fingers will forget green thumbs and mark How, through the halfmoon’s vegetable eye, Husk of young stars and handfull zodiac, Love in the frost is pared and wintered by, The whispering ears will watch love drummed away Down breeze and shell to a discordant beach, And, […]...
33. A Last Confession What lively lad most pleasured me Of all that with me lay? I answer that I gave my soul And loved in misery, But had great pleasure with a lad That I loved bodily. Flinging from his arms I laughed To think his passion such He fancied that I gave a soul Did but our […]...
34. Poet's Path My garden hath a slender path With ivy overgrown, A secret place where once would pace A pot all alone; I see him now with fretted brow, Plunged deep in thought; And sometimes he would write maybe, And sometimes he would not. A verse a day he used to say Keeps worry from the door; […]...
35. A Thought From Propertius She might, so noble from head To great shapely knees The long flowing line, Have walked to the altar Through the holy images At pallas Athene’s Side, Or been fit spoil for a centaur Drunk with the unmixed wine....
36. Ithaka As you set out for Ithaka Hope your road is a long one, Full of adventure, full of discovery. Laistrygonians, Cyclops, Angry Poseidon-don’t be afraid of them: You’ll never find things like that on your way As long as you keep your thoughts raised high, As long as a rare excitement Stirs your spirit and […]...
37. Morning Sea Let me stop here. Let me, too, look at nature awhile. The brilliant blue of the morning sea, of the cloudless sky, The yellow shore; all lovely, All bathed in light. Let me stand here. And let me pretend I see all this (I really did see it for a minute when I first stopped) […]...
38. Verse-Making Was Least of My Virtues Verse-making was least of my virtues: I viewed with despair Wealth that never yet was but might be all that verse-making were If the life would but lengthen to wish, let the mind be laid bare. So I said, “To do little is bad, to do nothing is worse” And made verse. Love-making, how simple […]...
39. Beautiful Rothesay Beautiful Rothesay, your scenery is most grand, You cannot be surpassed in fair Scotland. Tis healthy for holiday makers, to go there, For the benefit of their health, by inhaling the pure air And to hear the innocent birds, on a fine Summer day, Carolling their sweet songs, so lively and gay, Therefore, holiday makers, […]...
40. The Moon A web of sewer, pipe, and wire connects each house to the others. In 206 a dog sleeps by the stove where a small gas leak causes him To have visions; visions that are rooted in nothing but gas. Next door, a man who has decided to buy a car part by part Excitedly unpacks […]...