The New Ergonomics

Related poetry:

1. My Rival If she met him or he met her, I knew that something must occur; For they were just like flint and steel To strike the spark of woe and weal; Or like two splinters broken fine, In perfect fitness to combine; And so I ept them well apart, For she was precious to my heart. […]...
2. Taking His Chance They stood by the door of the Inn on the Rise; May Carney looked up in the bushranger’s eyes: ‘Oh! why did you come? it was mad of you, Jack; You know that the troopers are out on your track.’ A laugh and a shake of his obstinate head ‘I wanted a dance, and I’ll […]...
3. The New Mistress “Oh, sick I am to see you, will you never let me be? You may be good for something, but you are not good for me. Oh, go where you are wanted, for you are not wanted here. And that was all the farewell when I parted from my dear. “I will go where I […]...
4. The Borders To say that she came into me, From another world, is not true. Nothing comes into the universe And nothing leaves it. My mother-I mean my daughter did not Enter me. She began to exist Inside me-she appeared within me. And my mother did not enter me. When she lay down, to pray, on me, […]...
5. Song The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, Under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight, The weight we carry is love. Who can deny? In dreams It touches the body, In thought constructs A miracle, in imagination Anguishes till born In human Looks out of the heart burning with purity For […]...
6. Rio Grande's Last Race Now this was what Macpherson told While waiting in the stand; A reckless rider, over-bold, The only man with hands to hold The rushing Rio Grande. He said, ‘This day I bid good-bye To bit and bridle rein, To ditches deep and fences high, For I have dreamed a dream, and I Shall never ride […]...
7. Rio Grande Now this was what Macpherson told While waiting in the stand; A reckless rider, over-bold, The only man with hands to hold The rushing Rio Grande. He said, “This day I bid good-bye To bit and bridle rein, To ditches deep and fences high, For I have dreamed a dream, and I Shall never ride […]...
8. The Mother Poem (two) I always wanted to give birth Do that incredible natural thing That women do-I nearly broke down When I heard we couldn’t And then my man said to me Well there’s always adoption (we didn’t have test tubes and the rest Then) and well even in the early sixties there was something Scandalous about adopting […]...
9. Lost in the Prairie In one of fhe States of America, some years ago, There suddenly came on a violent storm of snow, Which was nearly the death of a party of workmen, Who had finished their day’s work – nine or ten of them. The distance was nearly twenty miles to their camp, And with the thick falling […]...
10. Herbert White “When I hit her on the head, it was good, And then I did it to her a couple of times, But it was funny, afterwards, It was as if somebody else did it… Everything flat, without sharpness, richness or line. Still, I liked to drive past the woods where she lay, Tell the old […]...
11. The Death of Fred Marsden, the American Playwright A pathetic tragedy I will relate, Concerning poor Fred. Marsden’s fate, Who suffocated himself by the fumes of gas, On the 18th of May, and in the year of 1888, alas! Fred. Marsden was a playwright, the theatrical world knows, And was highly esteemed by the people, and had very few foes; And in New […]...
12. Two thursdays when the doctor came on a monday He looked at my mother and said There’s something seriously wrong here – She’s had a stroke – she’s almost dead It must have happened on thursday Why wasn’t i told before The busy rest home shook its head We thought she was drowsy – nothing more She […]...
13. Restless Leg Syndrome After the burial We returned to our units And assumed our poses. Our posture was the new posture And not the old sick posture. When we left our stations It was just to prove we could, Not a serious departure Or a search for yet another beginning. We were done with all that. We were […]...
14. Deaf House Agent That deaf old man With his hand to his ear His hand to hi head stood out like a shell, Horny and hollow. He said, “I can’t hear,” He muttered, “Don’t shout, I can hear very well!” He mumbled, “I can’t catch a word; I can’t follow.” Then Jack with a voice like a Protestant […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. Let Us Have Madness Let us have madness openly. O men Of my generation. Let us follow The footsteps of this slaughtered age: See it trail across Time’s dim land Into the closed house of eternity With the noise that dying has, With the face that dead things wear Nor ever say We wanted more; we looked to find […]...
17. The Dream Said Will: “I’ll stay and till the land.” Said Jack: “I’ll sail the sea.” So one went forth kit-bag in hand, The other ploughed the lea. They met again at Christmas-tide, And wistful were the two. Said Jack: “you’re lucky here to bide.” Said Will: “I envy you.” “For in your eyes a light I […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. THE PAGE AND THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER PAGE. WHERE goest thou? Where? Miller’s daughter so fair! Thy name, pray? MILLER’S DAUGHTER. ‘Tis Lizzy. PAGE. Where goest thou? Where? With the rake in thy hand? MILLER’S DAUGHTER. Father’s meadows and land To visit, I’m busy. PAGE. Dost go there alone? MILLER’S DAUGHTER. By this rake, sir, ’tis shown That we’re making the hay; […]...
20. Jack Honest, or the Widow and Her Son Jack Honest was only eight years of age when his father died, And by the death of his father, Mrs Honest was sorely tried; And Jack was his father’s only joy and pride, And for honesty Jack couldn’t be equalled in the country-side. So a short time before Jack’s father died, ‘Twas loud and bitterly […]...
21. Motel Seedy The artisans of this room, who designed the lamp base (a huge red slug with a hole Where its heart should be) or chose this print Of a butterscotch sunset, Must have been abused in art class As children, forced to fingerpaint With a nose, or a tongue. To put this color Green exhausted grave […]...
22. To let them die peace There wasn’t room for sympathy, The epicentre moved too rapidly for that And even when we knew the anger Of the dispossessed the storm had passed. It blew into their lives already stressed By large events with precedents that rose From dark and baleful incidents beyond The wildest stretch of their naïve imagination. Ululation for […]...
23. Ben Duggan Jack Denver died on Talbragar when Christmas Eve began, And there was sorrow round the place, for Denver was a man; Jack Denver’s wife bowed down her head her daughter’s grief was wild, And big Ben Duggan by the bed stood sobbing like a child. But big Ben Duggan saddled up, and galloped fast and […]...
24. Wisteria The first purple wisteria I recall from boyhood hung On a wire outside the windows Of the breakfast room next door At the home of Steve Pisaris. I loved his tall, skinny daughter, Or so I thought, and I would wait Beside the back door, prostrate, Begging to be taken in. Perhaps It was only […]...
25. Gacela of the Dark Death I want to sleep the dream of the apples, To withdraw from the tumult of cemetries. I want to sleep the dream of that child Who wanted to cut his heart on the high seas. I don’t want to hear again that the dead do not lose their blood, That the putrid mouth goes on […]...
26. WELCOME HOME ‘Leeds welcomes you’ in flowers Garlanding the white stuccoed tower Of City Station: red on green As poetry’s demon seizes me, Upending all ordures of order. ‘Haworth Moor, Haworth Moor’ Echoes and re-echoes under the Dark Arches Where the Aire gurgles and swirls In eddies of Jack the Ripper, cloud-hopping Jumping Jack Flash but Jack’s […]...
27. Hero ‘Jack fell as he’d have wished,’ the Mother said, And folded up the letter that she’d read. ‘The Colonel writes so nicely.’ Something broke In the tired voice that quavered to a choke. She half looked up. ‘We mothers are so proud Of our dead soldiers.’ Then her face was bowed. Quietly the Brother Officer […]...
28. There's Another Blessed Horse Fell Down When you’re lying in your hammock, sleeping soft and sleeping sound, Without a care or trouble on your mind, And there’s nothing to disturb you but the engines going round, And you’re dreaming of the girl you left behind; In the middle of your joys you’ll be wakened by a noise And a clatter on […]...
29. Death's Way Old Man Death’s a lousy heel who will not play the game: Let Graveyard yawn and doom down crash, he’ll sneer and turn away. But when the sky with rapture rings and joy is like a flame, Then Old Man Death grins evilly, and swings around to slay. Jack Duval was my chosen pal in […]...
30. For you secular needs Somebody please explain, can you help Me understand; I’ve watched the weather Radar creep its colours on the screen And watched out of the window for the band Of welcome rain. One tells me its raining, The other looks unchanged. Are these events connected, are they Truly one and same? What should I watch For […]...
31. Crazy Jane And The Bishop Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head Because of my dear Jack that’s dead. Coxcomb was the least he said: The solid man and the coxcomb. Nor was he Bishop when his ban Banished Jack the Journeyman, […]...
32. Nirvana not much chance, Completely cut loose from Purpose, He was a young man Riding a bus Through North Carolina On the wat to somewhere And it began to snow And the bus stopped At a little cafe In the hills And the passengers Entered. He sat at the counter With the others, He ordered and […]...
33. Daughter leaves and leaving call october home Her daughter releases wood Smoke from her skin Rich in scorpio Blood survived the first Flood each new year marks A circle around her Thick bark middle This the month summer and Winter fall into each Other and leave orange Yellow ashes The vibrancy of death Carry it all […]...
34. The house where I was born (05) In the same dream I am lying in the hollow of a boat, My forehead and eyes against the curved planks Where I can hear the undercurrents Striking the bottom of the boat. All at once, the prow rises up, And I think that we’ve come to the estuary, But I keep my eyes against […]...
35. A Musician's Wife Between the visits to the shock ward The doctors used to let you play On the old upright Baldwin Donated by a former patient Who is said to be quite stable now. And all day long you played Chopin, Badly and hauntingly, when you weren’t Screaming on the porch that looked Like an enormous birdcage. […]...
36. The Bliss Of Ignorance When Jack took Nell into his arms He knew he acted ill, And thought as he enjoyed her charms Of his fiancée Jill. “Poor dear,” he sighed, “she dreams of me, I shouldn’t act like this; But after all, she cannot see, And ignorance is bliss.” Yet Jill at that same moment was In Fred’s […]...
37. Willie Metcalf I was Willie Metcalf. They used to call me “Doctor Meyers” Because, they said, I looked like him. And he was my father, according to Jack McGuire. I lived in the livery stable, Sleeping on the floor Side by side with Roger Baughman’s bulldog, Or sometimes in a stall. I could crawl between the legs […]...
38. The Three Bushes An incident from the ‘Historia mei Temporis’ Of the Abbe Michel de Bourdeille Said lady once to lover, ‘None can rely upon A love that lacks its proper food; And if your love were gone How could you sing those songs of love? I should be blamed, young man. O my dear, O my dear. […]...
39. For Catherine: Juana, Infanta of Navarre Ferdinand was systematic when He drove his daughter mad. With a Casanova’s careful art, He moved slowly, Stole only one child at a time Through tunnels specially dug Behind the walls of her royal Chamber, then paid the Duenna Well to remember nothing But his appreciation. Imagine how quietly The servants must have worked, Loosening […]...
40. The Self and the Mulberry I wanted to see the self, so I looked at the mulberry. It had no trouble accepting its limits, Yet defining and redefining a small area So that any shape was possible, any movement. It stayed put, but was part of all the air. I wanted to learn to be there and not there Like […]...