The Great Black Heron

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1. Fishing On The Susquehanna In July I have never been fishing on the Susquehanna Or on any river for that matter To be perfectly honest. Not in July or any month Have I had the pleasure if it is a pleasure Of fishing on the Susquehanna. I am more likely to be found In a quiet room like this one A […]...
2. My Great Great Etc. Uncle Patrick Henry There’s a fortune to be made in just about everything In this country, somebody’s father had to invent Everything baby food, tractors, rat poisoning. My family’s obviously done nothing since the beginning Of time. They invented poverty and bad taste And getting by and taking it from the boss. O my mother goes around chewing […]...
3. From the Antique It’s a weary life, it is, she said: Doubly blank in a woman’s lot: I wish and I wish I were a man: Or, better then any being, were not: Were nothing at all in all the world, Not a body and not a soul: Not so much as a grain of dust Or a […]...
4. Lion & Honeycomb He didn’t want to do it with skill, He’d had enough of skill. If he never saw Another villanelle, it would be too soon; And the same went for sonnets. If it had been Hard work learning to rime, it would be much Harder learning not to. The time came He had to ask himself, […]...
5. 518. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election-No. 1 WHOM will you send to London town, To Parliament and a’ that? Or wha in a’ the country round The best deserves to fa’ that? For a’ that, and a’ that, Thro’ Galloway and a’ that, Where is the Laird or belted Knight The best deserves to fa’ that? Wha sees Kerroughtree’s open yett, (And […]...
6. The Great Yellow River Inundation in China ‘Twas in the year of 1887, and on the 28th of September, Which many people of Honan, in China, will long remember; Especially those that survived the mighty deluge, That fled to the mountains, and tops of trees, for refuge. The river burst its embankments suddenly at dead of night, And the rushing torrent swept […]...
7. The Ballad Of The Black Fox Skin I There was Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike living the life of shame, When unto them in the Long, Long Night came the man-who-had-no-name; Bearing his prize of a black fox pelt, out of the Wild he came. His cheeks were blanched as the flume-head foam when the brown spring freshets flow; Deep in their […]...
8. Jones's Porvate Argyment That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, He had this pint about him: He’d swear with a hundred sighs and groans, That farmers MUST stop gittin’ loans, And git along without ’em: That bankers, warehousemen, and sich Was fatt’nin’ on the planter, And Tennessy was rotten-rich A-raisin’ meat and corn, all which Draw’d money […]...
9. Sonnet XVIII: To This Our World To the Celestial Numbers To this our world, to Learning, and to Heav’n, Three Nines there are, to every one a Nine, One number of the Earth, the other both divine; One woman now makes three odd numbers ev’n. Nine Orders first of Angels be in Heav’n, Nine Muses do with Learning still frequent: These […]...
10. Habitation Marriage is not A house or even a tent It is before that, and colder: The edge of the forest, the edge Of the desert the unpainted stairs At the back where we squat Outside, eating popcorn Where painfully and with wonder At having survived even This far We are learning to make fire...
11. New Farm Tractor The rear axles hold the kick of twenty Missouri jackasses. It is in the records of the patent office and the ads there is twenty horse power pull here. The farm boy says hello to you instead of twenty mules-he sings to you instead of ten span of mules. A bucket of oil and a […]...
12. This Beautiful Black Marriage Photograph negative Her black arm: a diving porpoise, Sprawled across the ice-banked pillow. Head: a sheet of falling water. Her legs: icicle branches breaking into light. This woman, Photographed sleeping. The man, Making the photograph in the acid pan of his brain. Sleep stain them both, As if cloudy semen Rubbed shiningly over the surface […]...
13. I stood musing in a black world I stood musing in a black world, Not knowing where to direct my feet. And I saw the quick stream of men Pouring ceaselessly, Filled with eager faces, A torrent of desire. I called to them, “Where do you go? What do you see?” A thousand voices called to me. A thousand fingers pointed. “Look! […]...
14. The Beggar Lad dies early The Beggar Lad dies early It’s Somewhat in the Cold And Somewhat in the Trudging feet And haply, in the World The Cruel smiling bowing World That took its Cambric Way Nor heard the timid cry for “Bread” “Sweet Lady Charity” Among Redeemed Children If Trudging feet may stand The Barefoot time forgotten so The […]...
15. Archibald Higbie I loathed you, Spoon River. I tried to rise above you, I was ashamed of you. I despised you As the place of my nativity. And there in Rome, among the artists, Speaking Italian, speaking French, I seemed to myself at times to be free Of every trace of my origin. I seemed to be […]...
16. The Firebombers We are America. We are the coffin fillers. We are the grocers of death. We pack them in crates like cauliflowers. The bomb opens like a shoebox. And the child? The child is certainly not yawning. And the woman? The woman is bathing her heart. It has been torn out of her And as a […]...
17. Black Swans As I lie at rest on a patch of clover In the Western Park when the day is done. I watch as the wild black swans fly over With their phalanx turned to the sinking sun; And I hear the clang of their leader crying To a lagging mate in the rearward flying, And they […]...
18. The Black Cottage We chanced in passing by that afternoon To catch it in a sort of special picture Among tar-banded ancient cherry trees, Set well back from the road in rank lodged grass, The little cottage we were speaking of, A front with just a door between two windows, Fresh painted by the shower a velvet black. […]...
19. The Black Unicorn The black unicorn is greedy. The black unicorn is impatient. ‘The black unicorn was mistaken For a shadow or symbol And taken Through a cold country Where mist painted mockeries Of my fury. It is not on her lap where the horn rests But deep in her moonpit Growing. The black unicorn is restless The […]...
20. Adveniat Regnum Tuum Thy kingdom come! Yea, bid it come! But when Thy kingdom first began On earth, Thy kingdom was a home, A child, a woman, and a man. The child was in the midst thereof, O, blessed Jesus, holiest One! The centre and the fount of love Mary and Joseph’s little Son. Wherever on the earth […]...
21. The Little Black Boy My mother bore me in the southern wild, And I am black, but O! my soul is white. White as an angel is the English child: But I am black as if bereav’d of light. My mother taught me underneath a tree And sitting down before the heat of day. She took me on her […]...
22. 551. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election-No. 4 WHA will buy my troggin, fine election ware, Broken trade o’ Broughton, a’ in high repair? Chorus.-Buy braw troggin frae the banks o’ Dee; Wha wants troggin let him come to me. There’s a noble Earl’s fame and high renown, For an auld sang-it’s thought the gudes were stown- Buy braw troggin, &c. Here’s the […]...
23. 519. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election-No. 2 FY, let us a’ to Kirkcudbright, For there will be bickerin’ there; For Murray’s light horse are to muster, And O how the heroes will swear! And there will be Murray, Commander, And Gordon, the battle to win; Like brothers they’ll stand by each other, Sae knit in alliance and kin. And there will be […]...
24. 520. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election-No. 3 ‘TWAS in the seventeen hunder year O’ grace, and ninety-five, That year I was the wae’est man Of ony man alive. In March the three-an’-twentieth morn, The sun raise clear an’ bright; But oh! I was a waefu’ man, Ere to-fa’ o’ the night. Yerl Galloway lang did rule this land, Wi’ equal right and […]...
25. Great are the Myths 1 GREAT are the myths-I too delight in them; Great are Adam and Eve-I too look back and accept them; Great the risen and fallen nations, and their poets, women, sages, inventors, rulers, warriors, and priests. Great is Liberty! great is Equality! I am their follower; Helmsmen of nations, choose your craft! where you sail, […]...
26. Heron Rises From The Dark, Summer Pond So heavy Is the long-necked, long-bodied heron, Always it is a surprise When her smoke-colored wings Open And she turns From the thick water, From the black sticks Of the summer pond, And slowly Rises into the air And is gone. Then, not for the first or the last time, I take the deep breath […]...
27. Girl (three) and the black horse i want to hold the horse’s string Cried the girl (three) stamping her foot Told by adults she was much too young The black horse stood staring at the wall It worries us you may get hurt The adults whispered – meaning to offer Comfort to the little madam (not convinced) The black horse stood […]...
28. The Black Virgin One in thy thousand statues we salute thee On all thy thousand thrones acclaim and claim Who walk in forest of thy forms and faces Walk in a forest calling on one name And, most of all, how this thing may be so Who know thee not are mystified to know That one cries “Here […]...
29. Barefoot Loving me with my shows off Means loving my long brown legs, Sweet dears, as good as spoons; And my feet, those two children Let out to play naked. Intricate nubs, My toes. No longer bound. And what’s more, see toenails and All ten stages, root by root. All spirited and wild, this little Piggy […]...
30. Great-Heart Theodore Roosevelt “The interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one Great-Heart.” Bunyan’s’ Pilgrim’s Process Concerning brave Captains Our age hath made known For all men to honour, One standeth alone, Of whom, o’er both oceans, Both peoples may say: “Our realm is diminished With Great-Heart away.” In purpose unsparing, In action no less, […]...
31. Psalm LXXII: Great God Great God, whose universal sway The known and unknown worlds obey, Now give the kingdom to thy Son, Extend his power, exalt his throne. The scepter well becomes his hands; All heaven submits to his commands; His justice shall avenge the poor, And pride and rage prevail no more. With power he vindicates the just, […]...
32. The Black Art A woman who writes feels too much, Those trances and portents! As if cycles and children and islands Weren’t enough; as if mourners and gossips And vegetables were never enough. She thinks she can warn the stars. A writer is essentially a spy. Dear love, I am that girl. A man who writes knows too […]...
33. The Old And The New Masters About suffering, about adoration, the old masters Disagree. When someone suffers, no one else eats Or walks or opens the window no one breathes As the sufferers watch the sufferer. In St. Sebastian Mourned by St. Irene The flame of one torch is the only light. All the eyes except the maidservant’s (she weeps And […]...
34. In Black Despair In grayish doubt and black despair, I drafted hymns to the earth and the air, Pretending to joy, although I lacked it. The age had made lament redundant. So here’s the question who can answer it Was he a brave man or a hypocrite?...
35. Thar's More In the Man Than Thar Is In The Land I knowed a man, which he lived in Jones, Which Jones is a county of red hills and stones, And he lived pretty much by gittin’ of loans, And his mules was nuthin’ but skin and bones, And his hogs was flat as his corn-bread pones, And he had ’bout a thousand acres o’ land. […]...
36. The Black Monkey My Babbles has a nasty knack Of keeping monkeys on her back. A great big black one comes and swings Right on her sash or pinny strings. It is a horrid thing and wild And makes her such a naughty child. She comes and stands beside my chair With almost an offended air And says: […]...
37. The Great Minimum It is something to have wept as we have wept, It is something to have done as we have done, It is something to have watched when all men slept, And seen the stars which never see the sun. It is something to have smelt the mystic rose, Although it break and leave the thorny […]...
38. After great pain, a formal feeling comes After great pain, a formal feeling comes The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, And Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go round Of Ground, or Air, or Ought A Wooden way Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone This is the Hour of Lead […]...
39. A Child of the Snows There is heard a hymn when the panes are dim, And never before or again, When the nights are strong with a darkness long, And the dark is alive with rain. Never we know but in sleet and in snow, The place where the great fires are, That the midst of the earth is a […]...
40. Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches Have you ever tried to enter the long black branches Of other lives – Tried to imagine what the crisp fringes, full of honey, Hanging From the branches of the young locust trees, in early morning, Feel like? Do you think this world was only an entertainment for you? Never to enter the sea and […]...