A Pig's-Eye View Of Literature

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1. Sorley's Weather When outside the icy rain Comes leaping helter-skelter, Shall I tie my restive brain Snugly under shelter? Shall I make a gentle song Here in my firelit study, When outside the winds blow strong And the lanes are muddy? With old wine and drowsy meats Am I to fill my belly? Shall I glutton here […]...
2. Poetical Essay Extract from Poetical Essay by Percy Bysshe Shelley Millions to fight compell’d, to fight or die In mangled heaps on War’s red altar lie. . . When the legal murders swell the lists of pride; When glory’s views the titled idiot guide...
3. Pigs Us all on sore cement was we. Not warmed then with glares. Not glutting mush Under that pole the lightning’s tied to. No farrow-shit in milk to make us randy. Us back in cool god-shit. We ate crisp. We nosed up good rank in the tunnelled bush. Us all fuckers then. And Big, huh? Tusked […]...
4. What A Writer what i liked about e. e. cummings Was that he cut away from The holiness of the Word And with charm And gamble Gave us lines That sliced through the Dung. How it was needed! How we were withering Away In the old Tired Manner. Of course, then came all The e. e. cummings Copyists. […]...
5. THE MAYPOLE The May-pole is up, Now give me the cup; I’ll drink to the garlands around it; But first unto those Whose hands did compose The glory of flowers that crown’d it. A health to my girls, Whose husbands may earls Or lords be, granting my wishes, And when that ye wed To the bridal bed, […]...
6. Bilbea BILBEA, I was in Babylon on Saturday night. I saw nothing of you anywhere. I was at the old place and the other girls were there, but no Bilbea. Have you gone to another house? or city? Why don’t you write? I was sorry. I walked home half-sick. Tell me how it goes. Send me […]...
7. Quarrel Let us quarrel for these reasons: You detest the salt which seasons My speech. . . and all my lights go out In the cold poison of your doubt. I love Shelley. . . you love Keats Something parts and something meets. I love salads. . . you love chops; Something goes and something stops. […]...
8. A Literature Lesson. Sir Patrick Spens in the Eighteenth Century Manner VERSE I In a famed town of Caledonia’s land, A prosperous port contiguous to the strand, A monarch feasted in right royal state; But care still dogs the pleasures of the Great, And well his faithful servants could surmise From his distracted looks and broken sighs That though the purple bowl was circling free, His […]...
9. Double Ballade on the Nothingness of Things The big teetotum twirls, And epochs wax and wane As chance subsides or swirls; But of the loss and gain The sum is always plain. Read on the mighty pall, The weed of funeral That covers praise and blame, The – isms and the – anities, Magnificence and shame: “O Vanity of Vanities!” The Fates […]...
10. Apology (For Eleanor Rogers Cox) For blows on the fort of evil That never shows a breach, For terrible life-long races To a goal no foot can reach, For reckless leaps into darkness With hands outstretched to a star, There is jubilation in Heaven Where the great dead poets are. There is joy over disappointment And […]...
11. Toilet Seats While I am emulating Keats My brother fabrics toilet seats, The which, they say, are works of art, Aesthetic features of the mart; So exquisitely are they made With plastic of a pastel shade, Of topaz, ivory or rose, Inviting to serene repose. Rajahs I’m told have seats of gold, (They must, I fear, be […]...
12. The General Public “Ah, did you once see Shelley plain?” Browning. “Shelley? Oh, yes, I saw him often then,” The old man said. A dry smile creased his face With many wrinkles. “That’s a great poem, now! That one of Browning’s! Shelley? Shelley plain? The time that I remember best is this A thin mire crept along the […]...
13. The Leaning Tower Having an aged hate of height I forced myself to climb the Tower, Yet paused at every second flight Because my heart is scant of power; Then when I gained the sloping summit Earthward I stared, straight as a plummet. When like a phantom by my side I saw a man cadaverous; At first I […]...
14. Cut While Shaving It’s never quite right, he said, the way people look, The way the music sounds, the way the words are Written. It’s never quite right, he said, all the things we are Taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we Die, all the lives we live, They are never quite right, They are […]...
15. VIEW FROM THE INNER CITY Leeds this silent solemn Sunday Tempest Road is clear of all But wistful birds, parked cars And vagrant trees. The surgery and pharmacy are shuttered tight “Get your medication straight into your bag”, The friendly GP gravely warned, “The junks Lay in wait to grab and run from those no longer young The building site’s […]...
16. A View of the Han River With its three southern branches reaching the Chu border, And its nine streams touching the gateway of Jing, This river runs beyond heaven and earth, Where the colour of mountains both is and is not. The dwellings of men seem floating along On ripples of the distant sky These beautiful days here in Xiangyang Make […]...
17. XIV. On a Distant View of England AH! from my eyes the tears unbidden start, Albion! as now thy cliffs (that bright appear Far o’er the wave, and their proud summits rear To meet the beams of morn) my beating heart, With eager hope, and filial transport hails! Scenes of my youth, reviving gales ye bring. As when, ere while, the tuneful […]...
18. On A Distant View Of Harrow Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection Embitters the present, compar’d with the past; Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection, And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last; Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied; How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance, […]...
19. View Of The Capitol From The Library Of Congress Moving from left to left, the light Is heavy on the Dome, and coarse. One small lunette turns it aside And blankly stares off to the side Like a big white old wall-eyed horse. On the east steps the Air Force Band In uniforms of Air Force blue Is playing hard and loud, but queer […]...
20. A Game of Fives Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One: Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun. Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six: Sitting down to lessons – no more time for tricks. Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven: Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven! Five winsome girls, […]...
21. Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, Utt’ring bare truth, even so as foes commend. Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned, But those same tongues that give thee so thine own […]...
22. We talked as Girls do We talked as Girls do Fond, and late We speculated fair, on every subject, but the Grave Of ours, none affair We handled Destinies, as cool As we Disposers be And God, a Quiet Party To our Authority But fondest, dwelt upon Ourself As we eventual be When Girls to Women, softly raised We occupy […]...
23. This quiet Dust was Gentleman and Ladies This quiet Dust was Gentleman and Ladies And Lads and Girls Was laughter and ability and Sighing And Frocks and Curls. This Passive Place a Summer’s nimble mansion Where Bloom and Bees Exists an Oriental Circuit Then cease, like these...
24. Elizabeth Barrett Browning Elizabeth Barrett Browning Sat gossiping with Robert. (She was really a raving beauty in her day. With Mary Pickford curls in clouds and whirls.) She was trying to think of something nice to say, So she pointed to a page by her fellow star and sage, And said: “I wish that I could write that […]...
25. Myself What, younger, felt Was possible, now knows Is not – but still Not chanted enough – Walked by the sea, Unchanged in memory – Evening, as clouds On the far-off rim Of water float, Pictures of time, Smoke, faintness – Still the dream. I want, if older, Still to know Why, human, men And women […]...
26. My Masters Of Poetry I’ve been accused, But much more often I have not; Oh, I have been so much amused By those who’ve put me on the spot, And measured me by rules above Those I observe with equal love. An artisan of verse am I, Of simple sense and humble tone; My Thesaurus is handy […]...
27. The Song Of The Strange Ascetic If I had been a Heathen, I’d have praised the purple vine, My slaves should dig the vineyards, And I would drink the wine. But Higgins is a Heathen, And his slaves grow lean and grey, That he may drink some tepid milk Exactly twice a day. If I had been a Heathen, I’d have […]...
28. Talking (and Singing) of the Nordic Man I Behold, my child, the Nordic man, And be as like him, as you can; His legs are long, his mind is slow, His hair is lank and made of tow. II And here we have the Alpine Race: Oh! What a broad and foolish face! His skin is of a dirty yellow. He is […]...
29. Sonnet 83: I never saw that you did painting need I never saw that you did painting need, And therefore to your fair no painting set; I found, or thought I found, you did exceed That barren tender of a poet’s debt; And therefore have I slept in your report, That you yourself being extant well might show How far a modern quill doth come […]...
30. Sonnet LXXXIII I never saw that you did painting need And therefore to your fair no painting set; I found, or thought I found, you did exceed The barren tender of a poet’s debt; And therefore have I slept in your report, That you yourself being extant well might show How far a modern quill doth come […]...
31. THE MUSES' SON [Goethe quotes the beginning of this song in His Autobiography, as expressing the manner in which his poetical Effusions used to pour out from him.] THROUGH field and wood to stray, And pipe my tuneful lay, ‘Tis thus my days are pass’d; And all keep tune with me, And move in harmony, And so on, […]...
32. Dedication You whom I could not save Listen to me. Try to understand this simple speech as I would be ashamed of another. I swear, there is in me no wizardry of words. I speak to you with silence like a cloud or a tree. What strengthened me, for you was lethal. You mixed up farewell […]...
33. When The Sun Come After Rain WHEN the sun comes after rain And the bird is in the blue, The girls go down the lane Two by two. When the sun comes after shadow And the singing of the showers, The girls go up the meadow, Fair as flowers. When the eve comes dusky red And the moon succeeds the sun, […]...
34. Crying to be written Dawn has reached the ridges to the north and a thin Line of light chased the night west; it is the best Time of day for me – a cup of coffee, Benson & Scud Pretending to sleep in their baskets at my feet, I am seated, ready to write knowing the lounge fire Is […]...
35. Those Graves In Rome There are places where the eye can starve, But not here. Here, for example, is The Piazza Navona, & here is his narrow room Overlooking the Steps & the crowds of sunbathing Tourists. And here is the Protestant Cemetery Where Keats & Joseph Severn join hands Forever under a little shawl of grass And where […]...
36. Arrival Morning, a glass door, flashes Gold names off the new city, Whose white shelves and domes travel The slow sky all day. I land to stay here; And the windows flock open And the curtains fly out like doves And a past dries in a wind. Now let me lie down, under A wide-branched indifference, […]...
37. THE WAY TO BEHAVE THOUGH tempers are bad and peevish folks swear, Remember to ruffle thy brows, friend, ne’er; And let not the fancies of women so fair E’er serve thy pleasure in life to impair. 1815.*...
38. Field Thistle Herb and spine, The flat-fisted dream Of stars and dew Formed when he walked With his telescope Through grasses spotted By the spit bug. A raucous noise, The dawn of great beauty And he with his tripod Matting the grasses as he walked. I never saw him dead On a bed of white down. Never […]...
39. Jonas Keene Why did Albert Schirding kill himself Trying to be County Superintendent of Schools, Blest as he was with the means of life And wonderful children, bringing him honor Ere he was sixty? If even one of my boys could have run a news-stand, Or one of my girls could have married a decent man, I […]...
40. Farewell To Verse In youth when oft my muse was dumb, My fancy nighly dead, To make my inspiration come I stood upon my head; And thus I let the blood down flow Into my cerebellum, And published every Spring or so Slim tomes in vellum. Alas! I am rheumatic now, Grey is my crown; I can no […]...