Illustrious Ancestors

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1. Makers And Creatures It is a curious experience And one you”re bound to know, though probably In other realms than that of literature, Though I speak of poems now, assuming That you are interested, otherwise, Of course, you wouldn”t be reading this. It is strange to come across a poem In an old magazine, perhaps, and fail At […]...
2. Talking XX And then a scholar said, “Speak of Talking.” And he answered, saying: You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your […]...
3. Ancestors Behold these jewelled, merchant Ancestors, Foregathered in some chancellery of death; Calm, provident, discreet, they stroke their beards And move their faces slowly in the gloom, And barter monstrous wealth with speech subdued, Lustreless eyes and acquiescent lids. And oft in pauses of their conference, They listen to the measured breath of night’s Hushed sweep […]...
4. My Ancestors A barefoot boy I went to school To save a cobbler’s fee, For though the porridge pot was full A frugal folk were we; We baked our bannocks, spun our wool, And counted each bawbee. We reft our living from the soil, And I was shieling bred; My father’s hands were warped with toil, And […]...
5. The Rat's Tight Schedule A man stumbled on some rat droppings. Hey, who put those there? That’s dangerous, he said. His wife said, those are pieces of a rat. Wait, he’s coming apart, he’s all over the floor, said the Husband. He can’t help it; you don’t think he wants to drop pieces of Himself all over the floor, […]...
6. In The Village Of My Ancestors Someone embraces me Someone looks at me with the eyes of a wolf Someone takes off his hat So I can see him better Everyone asks me Do you know how I’m related to you Unknown old men and women Appropriate the names Of young men and women from my memory I ask one of […]...
7. A Little Girl's Prayer Grant me the moment, the lovely moment That I may lean forth to see The other buds, the other blooms, The other leaves on the tree: That I may take into my bosom The breeze that is like his brother, But stiller, lighter, whose faint laughter Exhoes the joy of the other. Above on the […]...
8. Don't put up my Thread and Needle Don’t put up my Thread and Needle I’ll begin to Sew When the Birds begin to whistle Better Stitches so These were bent my sight got crooked When my mind is plain I’ll do seams a Queen’s endeavor Would not blush to own Hems too fine for Lady’s tracing To the sightless Knot Tucks of […]...
9. Parable Of The Four-Poster Because she wants to touch him, She moves away. Because she wants to talk to him, She keeps silent. Because she wants to kiss him, She turns away & kisses a man she does not want to kiss. He watches Thinking she does not want him. He listens Hearing her silence. He turns away Thinking […]...
10. An Almost Made Up Poem I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny Blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny They are small, and the fountain is in France Where you wrote me that last letter and I answered and never heard from you again. You used to write insane poems about ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper […]...
11. Substitution WHEN some beloved voice that was to you Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly, And silence, against which you dare not cry, Aches round you like a strong disease and new What hope? what help? what music will undo That silence to your sense? Not friendship’s sigh, Not reason’s subtle count; not melody Of viols, […]...
12. Fool's Money Bags Outside the long window, With his head on the stone sill, The dog is lying, Gazing at his Beloved. His eyes are wet and urgent, And his body is taut and shaking. It is cold on the terrace; A pale wind licks along the stone slabs, But the dog gazes through the glass And is […]...
13. No way of going back It was my life in fast review, initially at double speed Until I learned which functions scrolled the images On screen. I could pause, freeze frame advance, Endlessly replay and alter sound although the thing Would not allow fast forward beyond the here and now; But I could live with that. For hours I was […]...
14. The Mysterious Cat A chant for a children’s pantomime dance, suggested by a picture painted by George Mather Richards. I saw a proud, mysterious cat, I saw a proud, mysterious cat Too proud to catch a mouse or rat- Mew, mew, mew. But catnip she would eat, and purr, But catnip she would eat, and purr. And goldfish […]...
15. TO BRENDA WILLIAMS 'WRITING AGAINST THE GRAIN&#039 It was Karl Shapiro who wrote in his ‘Defence of Ignorance’ how many poets Go mad or seem to be so and the majority think we should all be in jail Or mental hospital and you have ended up in both places – fragile as bone china, Your pale skin taut, your fingers clasped tight […]...
16. Nothing But Death There are cemeteries that are lonely, Graves full of bones that do not make a sound, The heart moving through a tunnel, In it darkness, darkness, darkness, Like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves, As though we were drowning inside our hearts, As though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul. […]...
17. Coda There’s little in taking or giving, There’s little in water or wine; This living, this living, this living Was never a project of mine. Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is The gain of the one at the top, For art is a form of catharsis, And love is a permanent flop, And work […]...
18. O-Jazz-O Where the string At Some point, Was umbilical jazz, Or perhaps, In memory, A long lost bloody cross, Buried in some steel cavalry. In what time For whom do we bleed, Lost notes, from some jazzman’s Broken needle. Musical tears from lost Eyes. Broken drumsticks, why? Pitter patter, boom dropping Bombs in the middle Of […]...
19. In rags mysterious as these In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go Veiling the purple, and the plumes Veiling the ermine so. Smiling, as they request an alms At some imposing door! Smiling when we walk barefoot Upon their golden floor!...
20. Big Hair Ithaca, October 1993: Jorie went on a lingerie Tear, wanting to look like a moll In a Chandler novel. Dinner, consisting of three parts gin And one part lime juice cordial, was a prelude to her hair. There are, she said, poems that can be written Only when the poet is clad in black underwear. […]...
21. Patience A wind comes from the north Blowing little flocks of birds Like spray across the town, And a train, roaring forth, Rushes stampeding down With cries and flying curds Of steam, out of the darkening north. Whither I turn and set Like a needle steadfastly, Waiting ever to get The news that she is free; […]...
22. The New Poetry Handbook 1 If a man understands a poem, he shall have troubles. 2 If a man lives with a poem, he shall die lonely. 3 If a man lives with two poems, he shall be unfaithful to one. 4 If a man conceives of a poem, he shall have one less child. 5 If a man […]...
23. Silence There is a silence where hath been no sound, There is a silence where no sound may be, In the cold grave-under the deep, deep sea, Or in wide desert where no life is found, Which hath been mute, and still must sleep profound; No voice is hush’d-no life treads silently, But clouds and cloudy […]...
24. A Crystalline Awakening A crystalline awakening on the plateau, The crisp air as brittle as new celery Snaps with expectancy. The cold clings like a blanket Mantled across the rigid landscape, Muting stark shapes in antiseptic folds Of thick white hoar frost, absorbing sound, Encircling sleep, cogent in the early, puny light. Beds of icicles protrude from tussock […]...
25. Sonnet 21 XXI Cyriac, whose grandsire on the royal bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounced and in his volumes taught our laws, Which others at their bar so often wrench; Today deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth, that after no repenting draws; Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause, And what the […]...
26. XVII (Thinking, Tangling Shadows…) Thinking, tangling shadows in the deep solitude. You are far away too, oh farther than anyone. Thinking, freeing birds, dissolving images, Burying lamps. Belfry of fogs, how far away, up there! Stifling laments, milling shadowy hopes, Taciturn miller, Night falls on you face downward, far from the city. Your presence is foreign, as strange to […]...
27. Sonnet 18 XVIII Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause Pronounc’t and in his volumes taught our Lawes, Which others at their Barr so often wrench: To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth, that after no repenting drawes; Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause, And what […]...
28. Dream Song 324: An Elegy for W. C. W., the lovely man Henry in Ireland to Bill underground: Rest well, who worked so hard, who made a good sound Constantly, for so many years: Your high-jinks delighted the continents & our ears: You had so many girls your life was a triumph And you loved your one wife. At dawn you rose & wrote—the books poured forth— […]...
29. A Poetry Reading At West Point I read to the entire plebe class, In two batches. Twice the hall filled With bodies dressed alike, each toting A copy of my book. What would my Shrink say, if I had one, about Such a dream, if it were a dream? Question and answer time. “Sir,” a cadet yelled from the balcony, And […]...
30. What Is Life? And what is Life? An hour-glass on the run, A mist retreating from the morning sun, A busy, bustling, still-repeated dream. Its length? A minute’s pause, a moment’s thought. And Happiness? A bubble on the stream, That in the act of seizing shrinks to nought. And what is Hope? The puffing gale of morn, That […]...
31. The Roundel A roundel is wrought as a ring or a starbright sphere, With craft of delight and with cunning of sound unsought, That the heart of the hearer may smile if to pleasure his ear A roundel is wrought. Its jewel of music is carven of all or of aught Love, laughter, or mourning remembrance of […]...
32. Purple Martins IF we were such and so, the same as these, Maybe we too would be slingers and sliders, Tumbling half over in the water mirrors, Tumbling half over at the horse heads of the sun, Tumbling our purple numbers. Twirl on, you and your satin blue. Be water birds, be air birds. Be these purple […]...
33. On The Porch At The Frost Place, Franconia, N. H So here the great man stood, Fermenting malice and poems We have to be nearly as fierce Against ourselves as he Not to misread by their disguises. Blue in dawn haze, the tamarack Across the road is new since Frost And thirty feet tall already. No doubt he liked to scorch off Morning fog by […]...
34. The Spring (After Rilke) Spring has returned! Everything has returned! The earth, just like a schoolgirl, memorizes Poems, so many poems. … Look, she has learned So many famous poems, she has earned so many prizes! Teacher was strict. We delighted in the white Of the old man’s beard, bright like the snow’s: Now we may ask […]...
35. The Forgotten Dialect Of The Heart How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, And frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say, God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words Get it all wrong. We say bread and it means according To which nation. French has no word for home, And we have no word […]...
36. To Lucy, Countess of Bedford, with John Donne's Satires Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who are Life of the Muses’ day, their morning star! If works, not th’ author’s, their own grace should look, Whose poems would not wish to be your book? But these, desir’d by you, the maker’s ends Crown with their own. Rare poems ask rare friends. Yet satires, since […]...
37. In Bertram's Garden Jane looks down at her organdy skirt As if it somehow were the thing disgraced, For being there, on the floor, in the dirt, And she catches it up about her waist, Smooths it out along one hip, And pulls it over the crumpled slip. On the porch, green-shuttered, cool, Asleep is Bertram that bronze […]...
38. Silence I have known the silence of the stars and of the sea, And the silence of the city when it pauses, And the silence of a man and a maid, And the silence of the sick When their eyes roam about the room. And I ask: For the depths, Of what use is language? A […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. Great Streets of silence led away Great Streets of silence led away To Neighborhoods of Pause Here was no Notice no Dissent No Universe no laws By Clocks, ’twas Morning, and for Night The Bells at Distance called But Epoch had no basis here For Period exhaled....