The Fathers

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1. My Fathers, The Baltic Along the strand stones, Busted shells, wood scraps, Bottle tops, dimpled And stainless beer cans. Something began here A century ago, A nameless disaster, Perhaps a voyage To the lost continent Where I was born. Now the cold winds Of March dimple The gray, incoming Waves. I kneel On the wet earth Looking for a […]...
2. The Fathers Snug at the club two fathers sat, Gross, goggle-eyed, and full of chat. One of them said: ‘My eldest lad Writes cheery letters from Bagdad. But Arthur’s getting all the fun At Arras with his nine-inch gun.’ ‘Yes,’ wheezed the other, ‘that’s the luck! My boy’s quite broken-hearted, stuck In England training all this year. […]...
3. The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth if I suffer at this Typewriter Think how I’d feel Among the lettuce- Pickers of Salinas? I think of the men I’ve known in Factories With no way to Get out- Choking while living Choking while laughing At Bob Hope or Lucille Ball while 2 or 3 children beat Tennis balls against The wall. Some […]...
4. Our Fathers Also “Below the Mill Dam” Traffics and Discoveries Thrones, Powers, Dominions, Peoples, Kings, Are changing ‘neath our hand. Our fathers also see these things But they do not understand. By they are by with mirth and tears, Wit or the works of Desire- Cushioned about on the kindly years Between the wall and the fire. The […]...
5. "And the sins of the fathers shall be&quot “And the sins of the fathers shall be Visited upon the heads of the children, Even unto the third and fourth Generation of them that hate me.” Well, then I hate thee, unrighteous picture; Wicked image, I hate thee; So, strike with thy vengeance The heads of those little men Who come blindly. It will […]...
6. The New Ezekiel What, can these dead bones live, whose sap is dried By twenty scorching centuries of wrong? Is this the House of Israel, whose pride Is as a tale that’s told, an ancient song? Are these ignoble relics all that live Of psalmist, priest, and prophet? Can the breath Of very heaven bid these bones revive, […]...
7. Sanctuary This is the bricklayer; hear the thud Of his heavy load dumped down on stone. His lustrous bricks are brighter than blood, His smoking mortar whiter than bone. Set each sharp-edged, fire-bitten brick Straight by the plumb-line’s shivering length; Make my marvelous wall so thick Dead nor living may shake its strength. Full as a […]...
8. Property The red-roofed house of dream design Looks three ways on the sea; For fifty years I’ve made it mine, And held it part of me. The pines I planted in my youth Triumpantly are tall. . . Yet now I know with sorry sooth I have to leave it all. Hard-hewn from out the living […]...
9. Talking to Grief Ah, Grief, I should not treat you Like a homeless dog Who comes to the back door For a crust, for a meatless bone. I should trust you. I should coax you Into the house and give you Your own corner, A worn mat to lie on, Your own water dish. You think I don’t […]...
10. Troll Sat Alone on His Seat of Stone Troll sat alone on his seat of stone, And munched and mumbled a bare old bone; For many a year he had gnawed it near, For meat was hard to come by. Done by! Gum by! In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone, And meat was hard to come by. Up came Tom […]...
11. The Landing Of The Pilgrim Fathers The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods, against a stormy sky, Their giant branches tost; And the heavy night hung dark The hills and water o’er, When a band of exiles moored their bark On the wild New England shore. Not as the conqueror comes, They, the true-hearted, […]...
12. Refrain The air is dark, the night is sad, I lie sleepless and I groan. Nobody cares when a man goes mad: He is sorry, God is glad. Shadow changes into bone. Every shadow has a name; When I think of mine I moan, I hear rumors of such fame. Not for pride, but only shame, […]...
13. The Sentence And the stone word fell On my still-living breast. Never mind, I was ready. I will manage somehow. Today I have so much to do: I must kill memory once and for all, I must turn my soul to stone, I must learn to live again Unless. . . Summer’s ardent rustling Is like a […]...
14. What Were They Like? Did the people of Viet Nam Use lanterns of stone? Did they hold ceremonies To reverence the opening of buds? Were they inclined to quiet laughter? Did they use bone and ivory, Jade and silver, for ornament? Had they an epic poem? Did they distinguish between speech and singing? Sir, their light hearts turned to […]...
15. Shema You who live secure In your warm houses Who return at evening to find Hot food and friendly faces: Consider whether this is a man, Who labours in the mud Who knows no peace Who fights for a crust of bread Who dies at a yes or a no. Consider whether this is a woman, […]...
16. Remembrance has a Rear and Front Remembrance has a Rear and Front ‘Tis something like a House It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar That ever Mason laid Look to it by its Fathoms Ourselves be not pursued...
17. Malade The sick grapes on the chair by the bed lie prone; at the window The tassel of the blind swings gently, tapping the pane, As a little wind comes in. The room is the hollow rind of a fruit, a gourd Scooped out and dry, where a spider, Folded in its legs as in a […]...
18. The Moss Of His Skin “Young girls in old Arabia were often buried alive next To their fathers, apparently as sacrifice to the goddesses Of the tribes…” Harold Feldman, “Children of the Desert” Psychoanalysis And Psychoanalytic Review, Fall 1958 It was only important To smile and hold still, To lie down beside him And to rest awhile, To be folded […]...
19. Meditation on a Bone A piece of bone, found at Trondhjem in 1901, with the following runic inscription (about A. D. 1050) cut on it: I loved her as a maiden; I will not trouble Erlend’s detestable wife; better she should be a widow. Words scored upon a bone, Scratched in despair or rage Nine hundred years have gone; […]...
20. Nature Full of rebellion, I would die, Or fight, or travel, or deny That thou has aught to do with me. O tame my heart; It is thy highest art To captivate strong holds to thee. If thou shalt let this venom lurk, And in suggestions fume and work, My soul will turn to bubbles straight, […]...
21. Like Brooms of Steel Like Brooms of Steel The Snow and Wind Had swept the Winter Street The House was hooked The Sun sent out Faint Deputies of Heat Where rode the Bird The Silence tied His ample plodding Steed The Apple in the Cellar snug Was all the one that played....
22. Truly Great My walls outside must have some flowers, My walls within must have some books; A house that’s small; a garden large, And in it leafy nooks. A little gold that’s sure each week; That comes not from my living kind, But from a dead man in his grave, Who cannot change his mind. A lovely […]...
23. THE FREEBOOTER No door has my house, No house has my door; And in and out ever I carry my store. No grate has my kitchen, No kitchen my grate; Yet roasts it and boils it Both early and late. My bed has no trestles, My trestles no bed; Yet merrier moments No mortal e’er led. My […]...
24. Dream Barker We met for supper in your flat-bottomed boat. I got there first: in a white dress: I remember Wondering if you’d come. Then you shot over the bank, A Virgilian Nigger Jim, and poled us off To a little sea-food barker’s cave you knew. What’ll you have? you said. Eels hung down, Bamboozled claws hung […]...
25. I Fellowed Sleep I fellowed sleep who kissed me in the brain, Let fall the tear of time; the sleeper’s eye, Shifting to light, turned on me like a moon. So, planning-heeled, I flew along my man And dropped on dreaming and the upward sky. I fled the earth and, naked, climbed the weather, Reaching a second ground […]...
26. Cold-Blooded Creatures Man, the egregious egoist (In mystery the twig is bent) Imagines, by some mental twist, That he alone is sentient Of the intolerable load That on all living creatures lies, Nor stoops to pity in the toad The speechless sorrow of his eyes. He asks no questions of the snake, Nor plumbs the phosphorescent gloom […]...
27. Vergissmeinnicht Three weeks gone and the combatants gone Returning over the nightmare ground We found the place again, and found The soldier sprawling in the sun. The frowning barrel of his gun Overshadowing. As we came on That day, he hit my tank with one Like the entry of a demon. Look. Here in the gunpit […]...
28. Irony An arid daylight shines along the beach Dried to a grey monotony of tone, And stranded jelly-fish melt soft upon The sun-baked pebbles, far beyond their reach Sparkles a wet, reviving sea. Here bleach The skeletons of fishes, every bone Polished and stark, like traceries of stone, The joints and knuckles hardened each to each. […]...
29. The Old Prison The rows of cells are unroofed, A flute for the wind’s mouth, Who comes with a breath of ice From the blue caves of the south. O dark and fierce day: The wind like an angry bee Hunts for the black honey In the pits of the hollow sea. Waves of shadow wash The empty […]...
30. The Opal Dream Cave In an opal dream cave I found a fairy: Her wings were frailer than flower petals, Frailer far than snowflakes. She was not frightened, but poised on my finger, Then delicately walked into my hand. I shut the two palms of my hands together And held her prisoner. I carried her out of the opal […]...
31. Ghost House I DWELL in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago, And left no trace but the cellar walls, And a cellar in which the daylight falls, And the purple-stemmed wild raspberries grow. O’er ruined fences the grape-vines shield The woods come back to the mowing field; The orchard tree has grown […]...
32. The Houses ‘Twixt my house and thy house the pathway is broad, In thy house or my house is half the world’s hoard; By my house and thy house hangs all the world’s fate, On thy house and my house lies half the world’s hate. For my house and thy house no help shall we find Save […]...
33. It Is A Spring Afternoon Everything here is yellow and green. Listen to its throat, its earthskin, The bone dry voices of the peepers As they throb like advertisements. The small animals of the woods Are carrying their deathmasks Into a narrow winter cave. The scarecrow has plucked out His two eyes like diamonds And walked into the village. The […]...
34. Flies I never kill a fly because I think that what we have of laws To regulate and civilize Our daily life – we owe to flies. Apropos, I’ll tell you of Choo, the spouse Of the head of the hunters, Wung; Such a beautiful cave they had for a house, And a brood of a […]...
35. The Fury Of Beautiful Bones Sing me a thrush, bone. Sing me a nest of cup and pestle. Sing me a sweetbread fr an old grandfather. Sing me a foot and a doorknob, for you are my love. Oh sing, bone bag man, sing. Your head is what I remember that Augusty You were in love with another woman but […]...
36. Crazy Jane On The Mountain I am tired of cursing the Bishop, (Said Crazy Jane) Nine books or nine hats Would not make him a man. I have found something worse To meditate on. A King had some beautiful cousins. But where are they gone? Battered to death in a cellar, And he stuck to his throne. Last night I […]...
37. Loitering with a Vacant Eye Loitering with a vacant eye Along the Grecian gallery, And brooding on my heavy ill, I met a statue standing still. Still in marble stone stood he, And stedfastly he looked at me. “Well met,” I thought the look would say, “We both were fashioned far away; We neither knew, when we were young, These […]...
38. WITHOUT THE WHEREWITHALL To Thushari Williams Dear Thushie, the six months you spent with us Will never be forgotten, the long days you laboured In the care home, your care-worn comings home To sit with Brenda Williams, poиte maudit sang pur, Labouring together to bring to light poems buried alive And turn them into a book, the living […]...
39. Bone-fable one morning the bone was there Set in the centre of waste ground Against the early morning sun The frost along its concave rim Sparkled – raised a hundredfold The price a passing dog Would place on it but the dogs Who came (barking amongst themselves About the food shining at them Across the rubbled […]...
40. My Child Wafts Peace My child wafts peace. When I lean over him, It is not just the smell of soap. All the people were children wafting peace. (And in the whole land, not even one Millstone remained that still turned). Oh, the land torn like clothes That can’t be mended. Hard, lonely fathers even in the cave of […]...