Friday

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1. Good Friday in my Heart GOOD FRIDAY in my heart! Fear and affright! My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled, My words the words that priest and soldier said, My deed the spear to desecrate the dead. And day, Thy death therein, is changed to night. Then Easter in my heart sends up the sun. My thoughts are Mary, […]...
2. Hymn 106 Dead to sin by the cross of Christ. Rom. 6:1,2,6. Shall we go on to sin Because thy grace abounds; Or crucify the Lord again, And open all his wounds? Forbid it, mighty God! Nor let it e’er be said, That we whose sins are crucified Should raise them from the dead. We will be […]...
3. A Dream Of Death I dreamed that one had died in a strange place Near no accustomed hand, And they had nailed the boards above her face, The peasants of that land, Wondering to lay her in that solitude, And raised above her mound A cross they had made out of two bits of wood, And planted cypress round; […]...
4. A Friday Prayer Before the midnoon sermon was a starter He had sat quietly on the corner, His mien dripping with wudhu water His all seeing eyes observe in glister Standing on the altar was the preacher Who took a brush and painted in anger Onto the canvas of mosque-goers’ minds “His face, everybody!” so cruel and malignant […]...
5. Good Friday O my chief good, How shall I measure out thy blood? How shall I count what thee befell, And each grief tell? Shall I thy woes Number according to thy foes? Or, since one star show’d thy first breath, Shall all thy death? Or shall each leaf, Which falls in Autumn, score a grief? Or […]...
6. Stand-To: Good Friday Morning I’d been on duty from two till four. I went and stared at the dug-out door. Down in the frowst I heard them snore. ‘Stand to!’ Somebody grunted and swore. Dawn was misty; the skies were still; Larks were singing, discordant, shrill; They seemed happy; but I felt ill. Deep in water I splashed my […]...
7. Friday Night At The Royal Station Hotel Light spreads darkly downwards from the high Clusters of lights over empty chairs That face each other, coloured differently. Through open doors, the dining-room declares A larger loneliness of knives and glass And silence laid like carpet. A porter reads An unsold evening paper. Hours pass, And all the salesmen have gone back to Leeds, […]...
8. Good Friday 2001, Riding North Yellow makes a play for green among The rows of some poor farmer’s field outside The Memphis city limits’ northern edge. A D. J. plays The Day He Wore My Crown, Not knowing it entices into tears This woman never once disposed to travel The holiday before. My children squander Unleavened bread brought forth from […]...
9. The Evening Of The Mind Now comes the evening of the mind. Here are the fireflies twitching in the blood; Here is the shadow moving down the page Where you sit reading by the garden wall. Now the dwarf peach trees, nailed to their trellises, Shudder and droop. Your know their voices now, Faintly the martyred peaches crying out Your […]...
10. Francis II, King of Naples Written after reading Trevelyan’s “Garibaldi And the making of Italy” Poor foolish monarch, vacillating, vain, Decaying victim of a race of kings, Swift Destiny shook out her purple wings And caught him in their shadow; not again Could furtive plotting smear another stain Across his tarnished honour. Smoulderings Of sacrificial fires burst their rings And […]...
11. Dream Song 128: A hemorrhage of his left ear of Good Friday A hemorrhage of his left ear of Good Friday— So help me Jesus—then made funny too The other, further one. There must have been a bit. Sheets scrubbed away Soon all but three nails. Doctors in this city O Will not (his wife cried) come. Perhaps he’s for it. IF that Filipino doc Had diagnosed […]...
12. Peach-power peaches exude this thrall – Reminders of those luscious Whereabouts that lips Best find their precious sips To cry let this be all They lull so well endowed With dreams of wanting flesh Who can resist their touch Not they who wishing much Sigh o you do me proud And yield in fruitful dreams To […]...
13. New England Here where the wind is always north-north-east And children learn to walk on frozen toes, Wonder begets an envy of all those Who boil elsewhere with such a lyric yeast Of love that you will hear them at a feast Where demons would appeal for some repose, Still clamoring where the chalice overflows And crying […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. You Begin You begin this way: This is your hand, This is your eye, This is a fish, blue and flat On the paper, almost The shape of an eye This is your mouth, this is an O Or a moon, whichever You like. This is yellow. Outside the window Is the rain, green Because it is […]...
16. Quia Absurdum Guard yourself from the terrible empty light of space, the bottomless Pool of the stars. (Expose yourself to it: you might learn something.) Guard yourself from perceiving the inherent nastiness of man and woman. (Expose yourself to it: you might learn something.) Faith, as they now confess, is preposterous, an act of will. Choose the […]...
17. Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint Never let me lose the marvel Of your statue-like eyes, or the accent The solitary rose of your breath Places on my cheek at night. I am afraid of being, on this shore, A branchless trunk, and what I most regret Is having no flower, pulp, or clay For the worm of my despair. If […]...
18. The Dying Words Of Stonewall Jackson “Order A. P. Hill to prepare for battle.” “Tell Major Hawks to advance the Commissary train.” “Let us cross the river and rest in the shade.” The stars of Night contain the glittering Day And rain his glory down with sweeter grace Upon the dark World’s grand, enchanted face All loth to turn away. And […]...
19. Rainbird in the Annex I make my way to MacEwen’s salient red door To catch some remnants of her A faint scent lifting into old familiar skin Her unbendable pronounced lightness absorbed by sky Deliquescent words lost to the sun Her cordless poetry smothered by wind I float on Forgetting why I came and Become caught in Atwood’s wide-brimmed […]...
20. An Absolutely Ordinary Rainbow The word goes round Repins, The murmur goes round Lorenzinis, At Tattersalls, men look up from sheets of numbers, The Stock Exchange scribblers forget the chalk in their hands And men with bread in their pockets leave the Greek Club: There’s a fellow crying in Martin Place. They can’t stop him. The traffic in George […]...
21. The Trusting Heart Oh, I’d been better dying, Oh, I was slow and sad; A fool I was, a-crying About a cruel lad! But there was one that found me, That wept to see me weep, And had his arm around me, And gave me words to keep. And I’d be better dying, And I am slow and […]...
22. Bringers COVER me over In dusk and dust and dreams. Cover me over And leave me alone. Cover me over, You tireless, great. Hear me and cover me, Bringers of dusk and dust and dreams....
23. A City's Death By Fire After that hot gospeller has levelled all but the churched sky, I wrote the tale by tallow of a city’s death by fire; Under a candle’s eye, that smoked in tears, I Wanted to tell, in more than wax, of faiths that were snapped like wire. All day I walked abroad among the rubbled tales, […]...
24. The Villain While joy gave clouds the light of stars, That beamed wher’er they looked; And calves and lambs had tottering knees, Excited, while they sucked; While every bird enjoyed his song, Without one thought of harm or wrong I turned my head and saw the wind, Not far from where I stood, Dragging the corn by […]...
25. Vision X There in the middle of the field, by the side of a crystalline stream, I saw a bird-cage whose rods and hinges were fashioned by an expert’s hands. In one corner lay a dead bird, and in another were two basins one empty of water and the other of seeds. I stood there reverently, as […]...
26. The Space Heater On the then-below-zero day, it was on, Near the patients’ chair, the old heater Kept by the analyst’s couch, at the end, Like the infant’s headstone that was added near the foot Of my father’s grave. And it was hot, with the almost Laughing satire of a fire’s heat, The little coils like hairs in […]...
27. Her Vision In The Wood Dry timber under that rich foliage, At wine-dark midnight in the sacred wood, Too old for a man’s love I stood in rage Imagining men. Imagining that I could A greater with a lesser pang assuage Or but to find if withered vein ran blood, I tore my body that its wine might cover Whatever […]...
28. Reminiscence I am reminiscing you; and the little boy who often stole some change from the left pocket of your pants that would hang behind the door in the front room; his pride in bringing home for Mom, his three brothers and as many sisters, a plastic bagful of bananas or oranges from the money he’d […]...
29. Words, Wide Night Somewhere on the other side of this wide night And the distance between us, I am thinking of you. The room is turning slowly away from the moon. This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and say It is sad? In one of the tenses I singing An impossible song of desire that […]...
30. Courtship There is a girl you like so you tell her Your penis is big, but that you cannot get yourself To use it. Its demands are ridiculous, you say, Even self-defeating, but to be honored, somehow, Briefly, inconspicuously in the dark. When she closes her eyes in horror, You take it all back. You tell […]...
31. The Song Of The Beggar I am always going from door to door, Whether in rain or heat, And sometimes I will lay my right ear in The palm of my right hand. And as I speak my voice seems strange as if It were alien to me, For I’m not certain whose voice is crying: Mine or someone else’s. […]...
32. 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! […]...
33. The Evil Seekers We are born with luck Which is to say with gold in our mouth. As new and smooth as a grape, As pure as a pond in Alaska, As good as the stem of a green bean We are born and that ought to be enough, We ought to be able to carry on from […]...
34. Nepenthe Yes, it was like you to forget, And cancel in the welcome of your smile My deep arrears of debt, And with the putting forth of both your hands To sweep away the bars my folly set Between us bitter thoughts, and harsh demands, And reckless deeds that seemed untrue To love, when all the […]...
35. The Comforters Until thy feet have trod the Road Advise not wayside folk, Nor till thy back has borne the Load Break in upon the broke. Chase not with undesired largesse Of sympathy the heart Which, knowing her own bitterness, Presumes to dwell apart. Employ not that glad hand to raise The God-forgotten head To Heaven and […]...
36. My young son asks me My young son asks me: Must I learn mathematics? What is the use, I feel like saying. That two pieces Of bread are more than one’s about all you’ll end up with. My young son asks me: Must I learn French? What is the use, I feel like saying. This State’s collapsing. And if you […]...
37. Silver Nails A MAN was crucified. He came to the city a stranger, Was accused, and nailed to a cross. He lingered hanging. Laughed at the crowd. “The nails are iron,” he Said, “You are cheap. In my country when we crucify We use silver nails. . .” So he went jeering. They Did not understand him […]...
38. Sonnet VIII As Daniel, bird-alone, in that far land, Kneeling in fervent prayer, with heart-sick eyes Turned thro’ the casement toward the westering skies; Or as untamed Elijah, that red brand Among the starry prophets; or that band And company of Faithful sanctities Who in all times, when persecutions rise, Cherish forgotten creeds with fostering hand: Such […]...
39. Against Writing about Children When I think of the many people Who privately despise children, I can’t say I’m completely shocked, Having been one. I was not Exceptional, uncomfortable as that is To admit, and most children are not Exceptional. The particulars of Cruelty, sizes Large and X-Large, Memory gnawing it like A fat dog, are ordinary: Mean Miss […]...
40. I cannot let the moment pass I cannot let the moment pass without a weary greeting, Or retard the recent past where shadows still are fleeting, I’d sabotage the future by just staring in a mirror And never let the glimmer pass and try to hold my image fast In healing my dilemma. Time is gliding in array, I sense it […]...