The Veteran

Related poetry:

1. Veteran Sirens The ghost of Ninon would be sorry now To laugh at them, were she to see them here, So brave and so alert for learning how To fence with reason for another year. Age offers a far comelier diadem Than theirs; but anguish has no eye for grace, When time’s malicious mercy cautions them To […]...
2. Songs of Battle Old as the world no other things so old; Nay, older than the world, else, how had sprung Such lusty strength in them when earth was young? Stand valor and its passion hot and bold, Insatiate of battle. How, else, told Blind men, born blind, that red was fitting tongue Mute, eloquent, to show how […]...
3. Old Poets (For Robert Cortez Holliday) If I should live in a forest And sleep underneath a tree, No grove of impudent saplings Would make a home for me. I’d go where the old oaks gather, Serene and good and strong, And they would not sigh and tremble And vex me with a song. The pleasantest sort […]...
4. An Inspiration However the battle is ended, Though proudly the victor comes With fluttering flags and prancing nags And echoing roll of drums. Still truth proclaims this motto, In letters of living light, – No Question is ever settled, Until it is settled right. Though the heel of the strong oppressor May grind the weak to dust, […]...
5. Settle The Question Right However the battle is ended, Though proudly the victor comes, With flaunting flags and neighing nags And echoing roll of drums; Still truth proclaims this motto In letters of living light, No question is ever settled Until it is settled right. Though the heel of the strong oppressor May grind the weak in the dust, […]...
6. The Sorrows of the Blind Pity the sorrows of the poor blind, For they can but little comfort find; As they walk along the street, They know not where to put their feet. They are deprived of that earthly joy Of seeing either man, woman, or boy; Sad and lonely through the world they go, Not knowing a friend from […]...
7. I'm In Love she’s young, she said, But look at me, I have pretty ankles, And look at my wrists, I have pretty Wrists O my god, I thought it was all working, And now it’s her again, Every time she phones you go crazy, You told me it was over You told me it was finished, Listen, […]...
8. 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 […]...
9. The Epic Stars The heroic stars spending themselves, Coining their very flesh into bullets for the lost battle, They must burn out at length like used candles; And Mother Night will weep in her triumph, taking home her heroes. There is the stuff for an epic poem This magnificent raid at the heart of darkness, this lost battle […]...
10. What Man May Learn, What Man May Do WHAT man may learn, what man may do, Of right or wrong of false or true, While, skipper-like, his course he steers Through nine and twenty mingled years, Half misconceived and half forgot, So much I know and practise not. Old are the words of wisdom, old The counsels of the wise and bold: To […]...
11. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
12. The Ships that Won't Go Down We hear a great commotion ‘Bout the ship that comes to grief, That founders in mid-ocean, Or is driven on a reef; Because it’s cheap and brittle A score of sinners drown. But we hear but mighty little Of the ships that won’t go down. Here’s honour to the builders – The builders of the […]...
13. The White Lady I cannot rest, I cannot rest In straight and shiny wood, My woven hands upon my breast The dead are all so good! The earth is cool across their eyes; They lie there quietly. But I am neither old nor wise; They do not welcome me. Where never I walked alone before, I wander in […]...
14. What Was Lost I sing what was lost and dread what was won, I walk in a battle fought over again, My king a lost king, and lost soldiers my men; Feet to the Rising and Setting may run, They always beat on the same small stone....
15. Was It You? “Hullo, young Jones! with your tie so gay And your pen behind your ear; Will you mark my cheque in the usual way? For I’m overdrawn, I fear.” Then you look at me in a manner bland, As you turn your ledger’s leaves, And you hand it back with a soft white hand, And the […]...
16. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
17. 325. Song-What can a Young Lassie do wi' an Auld Man? WHAT can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, What can a young lassie do wi’ an auld man? Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie To sell her puir Jenny for siller an’ lan’. Bad luck on the penny that tempted my minnie To sell her puir Jenny for siller an’ […]...
18. Elegy Since I lost you, my darling, the sky has come near, And I am of it, the small sharp stars are quite near, The white moon going among them like a white bird among snow-berries, And the sound of her gently rustling in heaven like a bird I hear. And I am willing to come […]...
19. A Ritual To Read To Each Other If you don’t know the kind of person I am And I don’t know the kind of person you are A pattern that others made may prevail in the world And following the wrong god home we may miss our star. For there is many a small betrayal in the mind, A shrug that lets […]...
20. Tenth Commandment The woman said yes she would go to Australia with him Unless he heard wrong and she said Argentina Where they could learn the tango and pursue the widows Of Nazi war criminals unrepentant to the end. But no, she said Australia. She’d been born in New Zealand. The difference between the two places was […]...
21. The Mirror Seeing is believing. Whatever was thought or said, These persistent, inexorable deaths Make faith as such absent, Our humanness a question, A disgust for what we are. Whatever the hope, Here it is lost. Because we coveted our difference, Here is the cost....
22. 284. Song-Ca' the Yowes to the Knowes (older set) Chorus.-Ca’ the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows, Ca’ them where the burnie rowes, My bonie dearie AS I gaed down the water-side, There I met my shepherd lad: He row’d me sweetly in his plaid, And he ca’d me his dearie. Ca’ the yowes, &c. Will ye gang down the […]...
23. If ever the lid gets off my head If ever the lid gets off my head And lets the brain away The fellow will go where he belonged Without a hint from me, And the world if the world be looking on Will see how far from home It is possible for sense to live The soul there all the time....
24. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
25. 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 […]...
26. Child The young child, Christ, is straight and wise And asks questions of the old men, questions Found under running water for all children And found under shadows thrown on still waters By tall trees looking downward, old and gnarled. Found to the eyes of children alone, untold, Singing a low song in the loneliness. And […]...
27. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
28. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
29. Love's Deity I long to talk with some old lover’s ghost, Who died before the God of Love was born: I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be, I must love her […]...
30. Tower Of Song Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey I ache in the places where I used to play And I’m crazy for love but I’m not coming on I’m just paying my rent every day Oh in the Tower of Song I said to Hank Williams: how lonely does it get? Hank Williams […]...
31. Far Away and Long Ago Far away and long ago, a young lady who had lost her way found herself wandering in a wood and met a young carpenter working on a cupboard by a simple cabin that he’d built himself, to whom after some hesitation she stroke a conversation: “Excuse me, Sir, but I have lost my way around. […]...
32. Widow McFarlane I was the Widow McFarlane, Weaver of carpets for all the village. And I pity you still at the loom of life, You who are singing to the shuttle And lovingly watching the work of your hands, If you reach the day of hate, of terrible truth. For the cloth of life is woven, you […]...
33. My Masterpiece It’s slim and trim and bound in blue; Its leaves are crisp and edged with gold; Its words are simple, stalwart too; Its thoughts are tender, wise and bold. Its pages scintillate with wit; Its pathos clutches at my throat: Oh, how I love each line of it! That Little Book I Never Wrote. In […]...
34. The Debate Between Villon And His Heart Who’s that I hear?-It’s me-Who?-Your heart Hanging on by the thinnest thread I lose all my strength, substance, and fluid When I see you withdrawn this way all alone Like a whipped cur sulking in the corner Is it due to your mad hedonism?- What’s it to you?-I have to suffer for it- Leave me […]...
35. Some People some people never go crazy. Me, sometimes I’ll lie down behind the couch For 3 or 4 days. They’ll find me there. It’s Cherub, they’ll say, and They pour wine down my throat Rub my chest Sprinkle me with oils. Then, I’ll rise with a roar, Rant, rage – Curse them and the universe As […]...
36. Young and Old 1 When all the world is young, lad, 2 And all the trees are green; 3 And every goose a swan, lad, 4 And every lass a queen; 5 Then hey for boot and horse, lad, 6 And round the world away! 7 Young blood must have its course, lad, 8 And every dog his […]...
37. Braggart The days will rally, wreathing Their crazy tarantelle; And you must go on breathing, But I’ll be safe in hell. Like January weather, The years will bite and smart, And pull your bones together To wrap your chattering heart. The pretty stuff you’re made of Will crack and crease and dry. The thing you are […]...
38. The House of Christmas There fared a mother driven forth Out of an inn to roam; In the place where she was homeless All men are at home. The crazy stable close at hand, With shaking timber and shifting sand, Grew a stronger thing to abide and stand Than the square stones of Rome. For men are homesick in […]...
39. Room 4: The Painter Chap He gives me such a bold and curious look, That young American across the way, As if he’d like to put me in a book (Fancies himself a poet, so they say.) Ah well! He’ll make no “document” of me. I lock my door. Ha! ha! Now none shall see. . . . Pictures, just […]...
40. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...