At Half past Three, a single Bird

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1. A single Clover Plank A single Clover Plank Was all that saved a Bee A Bee I personally knew From sinking in the sky ‘Twixt Firmament above And Firmament below The Billows of Circumference Were sweeping him away The idly swaying Plank Responsible to nought A sudden Freight of Wind assumed And Bumble Bee was not This harrowing event […]...
2. It bloomed and dropt, a Single Noon It bloomed and dropt, a Single Noon The Flower distinct and Red I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead Will equal glow, and thought no More But came another Day To find the Species disappeared The Same Locality The Sun in place no other fraud On Nature’s perfect Sum Had I but lingered […]...
3. A single Screw of Flesh A single Screw of Flesh Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil Once witnessed of the Gauze Its name is put away As far from mine, as if no plight Had printed yesterday, In tender solemn Alphabet, My eyes just turned to see, When it […]...
4. Prayer is the little implement Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence is denied them. They fling their Speech By means of it in God’s Ear If then He hear This sums the Apparatus Comprised in Prayer...
5. Time Long Past Like the ghost of a dear friend dead Is Time long past. A tone which is now forever fled, A hope which is now forever past, A love so sweet it could not last, Was Time long past. There were sweet dreams in the night Of Time long past: And, was it sadness or delight, […]...
6. Past Carin&#039 Now up and down the siding brown The great black crows are flyin’, And down below the spur, I know, Another ‘milker’s’ dyin’; The crops have withered from the ground, The tank’s clay bed is glarin’, But from my heart no tear nor sound, For I have gone past carin’ Past worryin’ or carin’, Past […]...
7. Half The People In The World Half the people in the world love the other half, half the people hate the other half. Must I because of this half and that half go wandering and changing ceaselessly like rain in its cycle, must I sleep among rocks, and grow rugged like the trunks of olive trees, And hear the moon barking […]...
8. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 5. Sometimes I Hold it half a Sin I sometimes hold it half a sin To put in words the grief I feel; For words, like Nature, half reveal And half conceal the Soul within. But, for the unquiet heart and brain, A use in measured language lies; The sad mechanic exercise, Like dull narcotics, numbing pain. In words, like weeds, I’ll wrap […]...
9. Half-And-Half You can’t be, says a Palestinian Christian On the first feast day after Ramadan. So, half-and-half and half-and-half. He sells glass. He knows about broken bits, Chips. If you love Jesus you can’t love Anyone else. Says he. At his stall of blue pitchers on the Via Dolorosa, He’s sweeping. The rubbed stones Feel holy. […]...
10. She could not live upon the Past She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at last And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell For either Duke or Robin...
11. The Past is such a curious Creature The Past is such a curious Creature To look her in the Face A Transport may receipt us Or a Disgrace Unarmed if any meet her I charge him fly Her faded Ammunition Might yet reply....
12. Half Moon in a High Wind MONEY is nothing now, even if I had it, O mooney moon, yellow half moon, Up over the green pines and gray elms, Up in the new blue. Streel, streel, White lacey mist sheets of cloud, Streel in the blowing of the wind, Streel over the blue-and-moon sky, Yellow gold half moon. It is light […]...
13. Sonnet 42 – 'My future will not copy fair my past&#039 ‘My future will not copy fair my past’- I wrote that once; and thinking at my side My ministering life-angel justified The word by his appealing look upcast To the white throne of God, I turned at last, And there, instead, saw thee, not unallied To angels in thy soul! Then I, long tried By […]...
14. The Ghost Of The Past We two kept house, the Past and I, The Past and I; I tended while it hovered nigh, Leaving me never alone. It was a spectral housekeeping Where fell no jarring tone, As strange, as still a housekeeping As ever has been known. As daily I went up the stair, And down the stair, I […]...
15. A Song: When June is Past, the Fading Rose Ask me no more where Jove bestows, When June is past, the fading rose; For in your beauty’s orient deep These flowers as in their causes, sleep. Ask me no more whither doth stray The golden atoms of the day; For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to enrich your hair. Ask me […]...
16. Within my Garden, rides a Bird Within my Garden, rides a Bird Upon a single Wheel Whose spokes a dizzy Music make As ’twere a travelling Mill He never stops, but slackens Above the Ripest Rose Partakes without alighting And praises as he goes, Till every spice is tasted And then his Fairy Gig Reels in remoter atmospheres And I rejoin […]...
17. Half An Hour I never had you, nor will I ever have you I suppose. A few words, an approach As in the bar yesterday, and nothing more. It is, undeniably, a pity. But we who serve Art Sometimes with intensity of mind, and of course only For a short while, we create pleasure Which almost seems real. […]...
18. Pain expands the Time Pain expands the Time Ages coil within The minute Circumference Of a single Brain Pain contracts the Time Occupied with Shot Gamuts of Eternities Are as they were not...
19. A Coffin is a small Domain A Coffin is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave is a restricted Breadth Yet ampler than the Sun And all the Seas He populates And Lands He looks upon To Him who on its small Repose Bestows a single Friend Circumference without Relief Or […]...
20. 220. Song-The Winter it is Past THE WINTER it is past, and the summer comes at last And the small birds, they sing on ev’ry tree; Now ev’ry thing is glad, while I am very sad, Since my true love is parted from me. The rose upon the breer, by the waters running clear, May have charms for the linnet or […]...
21. All My Past Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams given o’er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. What ever is to come is not, How can it then be mine? The present moment’s all my lot, And that as fast as it is got, Phyllis, […]...
22. Past and Future The new hath come and now the old retires: And so the past becomes a mountain-cell, Where lone, apart, old hermit-memories dwell In consecrated calm, forgotten yet Of the keen heart that hastens to forget Old longings in fulfilling new desires. And now the Soul stands in a vague, intense Expectancy and anguish of suspense, […]...
23. Past One O'Clock Past one o’clock. You must have gone to bed. The Milky Way streams silver through the night. I’m in no hurry; with lightning telegrams I have no cause to wake or trouble you. And, as they say, the incident is closed. Love’s boat has smashed against the daily grind. Now you and I are quits. […]...
24. Past And Future MY future will not copy fair my past On any leaf but Heaven’s. Be fully done Supernal Will! I would not fain be one Who, satisfying thirst and breaking fast, Upon the fulness of the heart at last Says no grace after meat. My wine has run Indeed out of my cup, and there is […]...
25. A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices A newspaper is a collection of half-injustices Which, bawled by boys from mile to mile, Spreads its curious opinion To a million merciful and sneering men, While families cuddle the joys of the fireside When spurred by tale of dire lone agony. A newspaper is a court Where every one is kindly and unfairly tried […]...
26. Single Vision Before I am completely shriven I shall reject my inch of heaven. Cancel my eyes, and, standing, sink Into my deepest self; there drink Memory down. The banner of My blood, unfurled, will not be love, Only the pity and the pride Of it, pinned to my open side. When I have utterly refined The […]...
27. Reverse cannot befall Reverse cannot befall That fine Prosperity Whose Sources are interior As soon Adversity A Diamond overtake In far Bolivian Ground Misfortune hath no implement Could mar it if it found...
28. In Me, Past, Present, Future meet In me, past, present, future meet To hold long chiding conference. My lusts usurp the present tense And strangle Reason in his seat. My loves leap through the future’s fence To dance with dream-enfranchised feet. In me the cave-man clasps the seer, And garlanded Apollo goes Chanting to Abraham’s deaf ear. In me the tiger […]...
29. Dream Song 119: Fresh-shaven, past months & a picture in New York Fresh-shaven, past months & a picture in New York Of Beard Two, I did have Three took off. Well. . Shadow & act, shadow & act, Better get white or you’ get whacked, Or keep so-called black & raise new hell. I’ve had enough of this dying. You’ve done me a dozen goodnesses; get well. […]...
30. The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury ‘twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me In whatsoever Presence makes Till for a further Food I scarcely recollect to starve So first am I supplied The Luxury to meditate The Luxury it was To banguet on thy Countenance A Sumptuousness bestows On […]...
31. The Half-breed Girl She is free of the trap and the paddle, The portage and the trail, But something behind her savage life Shines like a fragile veil. Her dreams are undiscovered, Shadows trouble her breast, When the time for resting cometh Then least is she at rest. Oft in the morns of winter, When she visits the […]...
32. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 13: The half-shut doors through which we heard that music The half-shut doors through which we heard that music Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence. The stars whirl out, the night grows deep. Darkness settles upon us. A vague refrain Drowsily teases at the drowsy brain. In numberless rooms we stretch ourselves and sleep. Where have we been? What savage chaos of music […]...
33. No Worst, There Is None. Pitched Past Pitch Of Grief No worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief, More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring. Comforter, where, where is your comforting? Mary, mother of us, where is your relief? My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief Woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing- Then lull, then leave […]...
34. Looking For a Sunset Bird in Winter The west was getting out of gold, The breath of air had died of cold, When shoeing home across the white, I thought I saw a bird alight. In summer when I passed the place I had to stop and lift my face; A bird with an angelic gift Was singing in it sweet and […]...
35. An Image From A Past Life He. Never until this night have I been stirred. The elaborate starlight throws a reflection On the dark stream, Till all the eddies gleam; And thereupon there comes that scream From terrified, invisible beast or bird: Image of poignant recollection. She. An image of my heart that is smitten through Out of all likelihood, or […]...
36. Pain has an Element of Blank Pain has an Element of Blank It cannot recollect When it begun or if there were A time when it was not It has no Future but itself Its Infinite contain Its Past enlightened to perceive New Periods of Pain....
37. The Oven Bird There is a singer everyone has heard, Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird, Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again. He says that leaves are old and that for flowers Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten. He says the early petal-fall is past When pear and cherry bloom went down in […]...
38. Crisis is a Hair Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep To suspend the Breath Is the most we can Ignorant is it Life or Death Nicely balancing. Let an instant push Or an Atom press Or a Circle hesitate In Circumference It may jolt the Hand That […]...
39. Let me be to Thee as the circling bird Let me be to Thee as the circling bird, Or bat with tender and air-crisping wings That shapes in half-light his departing rings, From both of whom a changeless note is heard. I have found my music in a common word, Trying each pleasurable throat that sings And every praised sequence of sweet strings, And […]...
40. Death of the Bird For every bird there is this last migration; Once more the cooling year kindles her heart; With a warm passage to the summer station Love pricks the course in lights across the chart. Year after year a speck on the map, divided By a whole hemisphere, summons her to come; Season after season, sure and […]...