He put the Belt around my life

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1. Beyond the Snow Belt Over the local stations, one by one, Announcers list disasters like dark poems That always happen in the skull of winter. But once again the storm has passed us by: Lovely and moderate, the snow lies down While shouting children hurry back to play, And scarved and smiling citizens once more Sweep down their easy […]...
2. Did life's penurious length Did life’s penurious length Italicize its sweetness, The men that daily live Would stand so deep in joy That it would clog the cogs Of that revolving reason Whose esoteric belt Protects our sanity....
3. The Buried Life Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless sadness o’er me roll. Yes, yes, we know that we can jest, We know, we know that we can smile! But there’s a something in this breast, To which thy light words bring no rest, […]...
4. In the Morning of Life In the morning of life, when its cares are unknown, And its pleasures in all their new lustre begin, When we live in a bright-beaming world of our own, And the light that surrounds us is all from within; Oh ’tis not, believe me, in that happy time We can love, as in hours of […]...
5. Life's Scars They say the world is round, and yet I often think it square, So many little hurts we get From corners here and there. But one great truth in life I’ve found, While journeying to the West- The only folks who really wound Are those we love the best. The man you thoroughly despise Can […]...
6. Pickle Belt The fruit rolled by all day. They prayed the cogs would creep; They thought about Saturday pay, And Sunday sleep. Whatever he smelled was good: The fruit and flesh smells mixed. There beside him she stood, And he, perplexed; He, in his shrunken britches, Eyes rimmed with pickle dust, Prickling with all the itches Of […]...
7. I know where Wells grow Droughtless Wells I know where Wells grow Droughtless Wells Deep dug for Summer days Where Mosses go no more away And Pebble safely plays It’s made of Fathoms and a Belt A Belt of jagged Stone Inlaid with Emerald half way down And Diamonds jumbled on It has no Bucket Were I rich A Bucket I would […]...
8. My Last Duchess That’s my last duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf’s hands Worked busily a day, and there she stands. Will’t please you sit and look at her? I said “Frà Pandolf” by design, for never read Strangers like you that pictured countenance, […]...
9. When One has given up One's life When One has given up One’s life The parting with the rest Feels easy, as when Day lets go Entirely the West The Peaks, that lingered last Remain in Her regret As scarcely as the Iodine Upon the Cataract....
10. To Beachey, 1912 RIDING against the east, A veering, steady shadow Purrs the motor-call Of the man-bird Ready with the death-laughter In his throat And in his heart always The love of the big blue beyond. Only a man, A far fleck of shadow on the east Sitting at ease With his hands on a wheel And around […]...
11. Within the Circuit of This Plodding Life Within the circuit of this plodding life There enter moments of an azure hue, Untarnished fair as is the violet Or anemone, when the spring strews them By some meandering rivulet, which make The best philosophy untrue that aims But to console man for his grievances I have remembered when the winter came, High in […]...
12. 488. Song-The Winter of Life BUT lately seen in gladsome green, The woods rejoic’d the day, Thro’ gentle showers, the laughing flowers In double pride were gay: But now our joys are fled On winter blasts awa; Yet maiden May, in rich array, Again shall bring them a’. But my white pow, nae kindly thowe Shall melt the snaws of […]...
13. 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, […]...
14. Love and Life All my past life is mine no more, The flying hours are gone, Like transitory dreams giv’n o’er, Whose images are kept in store By memory alone. The time that 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, […]...
15. The Guardian Angel Of The Private Life All this was written on the next day’s list. On which the busyness unfurled its cursive roots, Pale but effective, And the long stem of the necessary, the sum of events, Built-up its tiniest cathedral… (Or is it the sum of what takes place? ) If I lean down, to whisper, to them, Down into […]...
16. A Prison gets to be a friend A Prison gets to be a friend Between its Ponderous face And Ours a Kinsmanship express And in its narrow Eyes We come to look with gratitude For the appointed Beam It deal us stated as our food And hungered for the same We learn to know the Planks That answer to Our feet So […]...
17. Life's Progress How gayly is at first begun Our Life’s uncertain Race! Whilst yet that sprightly Morning Sun, With which we just set out to run Enlightens all the Place. How smiling the World’s Prospect lies How tempting to go through! Not Canaan to the Prophet’s Eyes, From Pisgah with a sweet Surprize, Did more inviting shew. […]...
18. Sardis (Revelations, iii. 1-6) “Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord, “And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search, Find thy zeal and love decay’d; Thou art call’d a living church, But thou art cold and dead. “Watch, remember, seek, and strive, Exert […]...
19. Notice What This Poem Is Not Doing The light along the hills in the morning Comes down slowly, naming the trees White, then coasting the ground for stones to nominate. Notice what this poem is not doing. A house, a house, a barn, the old Quarry, where the river shrugs How much of this place is yours? Notice what this poem is […]...
20. I cautious, scanned my little life I cautious, scanned my little life I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads like mine Should be a-dreaming laid. I put the latter in a Barn The former, blew away. I went one winter morning And lo – my priceless Hay Was not upon the “Scaffold” Was not upon the “Beam” […]...
21. Bound a trouble Bound a trouble And lives can bear it! Limit how deep a bleeding go! So many drops of vital scarlet Deal with the soul As with Algebra! Tell it the Ages to a cypher And it will ache contented on Sing at its pain as any Workman Notching the fall of the Even Sun!...
22. A Psalm of Life WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN SAID TO THE PSALMIST. Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust […]...
23. The best days of my life What is it about Bryan Adams and his song ‘Summer of 69’? Why do the lyrics linger? Was it 90° in the shade and the harbinger of the end Of the golden weather, or the impending closure Of a glorious decade? He should have called it ‘The best days of my life’, it would have […]...
24. Promise This When You be Dying Promise This When You be Dying Some shall summon Me Mine belong Your latest Sighing Mine to Belt Your Eye Not with Coins though they be Minted From an Emperor’s Hand Be my lips the only Buckle Your low Eyes demand Mine to stay when all have wandered To devise once more If the Life […]...
25. O Me! O Life! O ME! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; Of the endless trains of the faithless-of cities fill’d with the foolish; Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?) Of eyes that vainly crave the light-of the objects mean-of the struggle ever renew’d; Of the poor results […]...
26. The Thread of Life I The irresponsive silence of the land, The irresponsive sounding of the sea, Speak both one message of one sense to me: Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band Of inner solitude; we bind not thee; But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free? What heart […]...
27. Sursum Corda Seek not the Spirit, if it hide, Inexorable to thy zeal: Baby, do not whine and chide; Art thou not also real? Why should’st thou stoop to poor excuse? Turn on the Accuser roundly; say, “Here am I, here will I remain Forever to myself soothfast, Go thou, sweet Heaven, or, at thy pleasure stay.”- […]...
28. A Parody on "A Psalm of Life&quot Life is real, life is earnest, And the shell is not its pen – “Egg thou art, and egg remainest” Was not spoken of the hen. Art is long and Time is fleeting, Be our bills then sharpened well, And not like muffled drums be beating On the inside of the shell. In the world’s […]...
29. Time And Life I. Time, thy name is sorrow, says the stricken Heart of life, laid waste with wasting flame Ere the change of things and thoughts requicken, Time, thy name. Girt about with shadow, blind and lame, Ghosts of things that smite and thoughts that sicken Hunt and hound thee down to death and shame. Eyes of […]...
30. Although I put away his life Although I put away his life An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear, This might have been the Hand That sowed the flower, he preferred Or smoothed a homely pain, Or pushed the pebble from his path Or played his chosen tune On Lute the least the latest But just his […]...
31. Veronica's Napkin The Heavenly Circuit; Berenice’s Hair; Tent-pole of Eden; the tent’s drapery; Symbolical glory of thc earth and air! The Father and His angelic hierarchy That made the magnitude and glory there Stood in the circuit of a needle’s eye. Some found a different pole, and where it stood A pattern on a napkin dipped in […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. Between the form of Life and Life Between the form of Life and Life The difference is as big As Liquor at the Lip between And Liquor in the Jug The latter excellent to keep But for ecstatic need The corkless is superior I know for I have tried...
34. Ebony Life A frightening stillness will mark that day And the shadow of streetlights and fire-alarms will exhaust the light All things, the quietest and the loudest, will be silent The suckling brats will die The tugboats the locomotives the wind will glide by in silence We will hear the great voice which coming from far away […]...
35. When the Children Come Home On a lonely selection far out in the West An old woman works all the day without rest, And she croons, as she toils ‘neath the sky’s glassy dome, ‘Sure I’ll keep the ould place till the childer come home.’ She mends all the fences, she grubs, and she ploughs, She drives the old horse […]...
36. Vickery's Mountain Blue in the west the mountain stands, And through the long twilight Vickery sits with folded hands, And Vickery’s eyes are bright. Bright, for he knows what no man else On earth as yet may know: There’s a golden word that he never tells, And a gift that he will not show. He dreams of […]...
37. An Adventure in the Life of King James V of Scotland On one occasion King James the Fifth of Scotland, when alone, in disguise, Near by the Bridge of Cramond met with rather a disagreeable surprise. He was attacked by five gipsy men without uttering a word, But he manfully defended himself with his sword. There chanced to be a poor man threshing corn in a […]...
38. A spring poem from bion One asketh: “Tell me, Myrson, tell me true: What’s the season pleaseth you? Is it summer suits you best, When from harvest toil we rest? Is it autumn with its glory Of all surfeited desires? Is it winter, when with story And with song we hug our fires? Or is spring most fair to you […]...
39. The Witch's Life When I was a child There was an old woman in our neighborhood whom we called The Witch. All day she peered from her second story Window From behind the wrinkled curtains And sometimes she would open the window And yell: Get out of my life! She had hair like kelp And a voice like […]...
40. I keep my pledge I keep my pledge. I was not called Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose. I plight again, By every sainted Bee By Daisy called from hillside By Bobolink from lane. Blossom and I Her oath, and mine Will surely come again....