The Test of Love is Death

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1. Love is that later Thing than Death Love is that later Thing than Death More previous than Life Confirms it at its entrance And Usurps it of itself Tastes Death the first to hand the sting The Second to its friend Disarms the little interval Deposits Him with God Then hovers an inferior Guard Lest this Beloved Charge Need once in an […]...
2. If your Nerve, deny you If your Nerve, deny you Go above your Nerve He can lean against the Grave, If he fear to swerve That’s a steady posture Never any bend Held of those Brass arms Best Giant made If your Soul seesaw Lift the Flesh door The Poltroon wants Oxygen Nothing more...
3. Song From An Evening's Love After the pangs of a desperate lover, When day and night I have sighed all in vain, Ah, what a pleasure it is to discover In her eyes pity, who causes my pain! When with unkindness our love at a stand is, And both have punished ourselves with the pain, Ah, what a pleasure the […]...
4. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
5. Out Of The Arm Of One Love out of the arm of one love And into the arms of another I have been saved from dying on the cross By a lady who smokes pot Writes songs and stories And is much kinder than the last, Much much kinder, And the sex is just as good or better. It isn’t pleasant to […]...
6. If I Were Tickled By the Rub of Love If I were tickled by the rub of love, A rooking girl who stole me for her side, Broke through her straws, breaking my bandaged string, If the red tickle as the cattle calve Still set to scratch a laughter from my lung, I would not fear the apple nor the flood Nor the bad […]...
7. Love (I) Immortal love, authour of this great frame, Sprung from that beautie which can never fade; How hath man parcel’d out thy glorious name, And thrown it on that dust which thou hast made, While mortall love doth all the title gain! Which siding with invention, they together Bear all the sway, possessing heart and brain, […]...
8. You love the Lord you cannot see You love the Lord you cannot see You write Him every day A little note when you awake And further in the Day. An Ample Letter How you miss And would delight to see But then His House is but a Step And Mine’s in Heaven You see....
9. Patience has a quiet Outer Patience has a quiet Outer Patience Look within Is an Insect’s futile forces Infinites between ‘Scaping one against the other Fruitlesser to fling Patience is the Smile’s exertion Through the quivering...
10. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...
11. Love thou art high Love thou art high I cannot climb thee But, were it Two Who know but we Taking turns at the Chimborazo Ducal at last stand up by thee Love thou are deep I cannot cross thee But, were there Two Instead of One Rower, and Yacht some sovereign Summer Who knows but we’d reach the […]...
12. Love And Death Shall we, too, rise forgetful from our sleep, And shall my soul that lies within your hand Remember nothing, as the blowing sand Forgets the palm where long blue shadows creep When winds along the darkened desert sweep? Or would it still remember, tho’ it spanned A thousand heavens, while the planets fanned The vacant […]...
13. Sex Without Love How do they do it, the ones who make love Without love? Beautiful as dancers, Gliding over each other like ice-skaters Over the ice, fingers hooked Inside each other’s bodies, faces Red as steak, wine, wet as the Children at birth whose mothers are going to Give them away. How do they come to the […]...
14. Love and Law TRUE Love is founded in rocks of Remembrance In stones of Forbearance and mortar of pain. The workman lays wearily granite on granite, And bleeds for his castle, ‘mid sunshine and rain. Love is not velvet, not all of it velvet, Not all of it banners, not gold-leaf alone. ‘Tis stern as the ages and […]...
15. Love & Fame & Death it sits outside my window now Like and old woman going to market; It sits and watches me, It sweats nevously Through wire and fog and dog-bark Until suddenly I slam the screen with a newspaper Like slapping at a fly And you could hear the scream Over this plain city, And then it left. […]...
16. To the stanch Dust To the stanch Dust We safe commit thee Tongue if it hath, Inviolate to thee Silence denote And Sanctity enforce thee Passenger of Infinity...
17. The Loss of Love All through an empty place I go, And find her not in any room; The candles and the lamps I light Go down before a wind of gloom. Thick-spraddled lies the dust about, A fit, sad place to write her name Or draw her face the way she looked That legendary night she came. The […]...
18. Patience, Hard Thing! The Hard Thing But To Pray Patience, hard thing! the hard thing but to pray, But bid for, Patience is! Patience who asks Wants war, wants wounds; weary his times, his tasks; To do without, take tosses, and obey. Rare patience roots in these, and, these away, Nowhere. Natural heart’s ivy, Patience masks Our ruins of wrecked past purpose. There she […]...
19. 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; […]...
20. Last Love The first flower of the spring is not so fair Or bright, as one the ripe midsummer brings. The first faint note the forest warbler sings Is not as rich with feeling, or so rare As when, full master of his art, the air Drowns in the liquid sea of song he flings Like silver […]...
21. Death is a Dialogue between Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death The Spirit “Sir I have another Trust” Death doubts it Argues from the Ground The Spirit turns away Just laying off for evidence An Overcoat of Clay....
22. Sonnet XXXVIII: Sitting Alone, Love Sitting alone, Love bids me go and write; Reason plucks back, commanding me to stay, Boasting that she doth still direct the way, Or else Love were unable to endite. Love, growing angry, vexed at the spleen And scorning Reason’s maimed argument, Straight taxeth Reason, wanting to invent, Where she with Love conversing hath not […]...
23. Love's Deity I long to talk with some old lover’s ghost, Who died before the God of Love was born: I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be, I must love her […]...
24. Immortal love, forever full Immortal love, forever full, Forever flowing free, Forever shared, forever whole, A never ebbing sea! Our outward lips confess the name All other names above; Love only knoweth whence it came, And comprehendeth love. Blow, winds of God, awake and blow The mists of earth away: Shine out, O Light divine, and show How wide […]...
25. Love (III) Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack, From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning, If I lack’d anything. A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here: Love said, You shall be he. I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah […]...
26. Love Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back, Guilty of dust and sin. But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack From my first entrance in, Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning If I lacked anything. “A guest,” I answered “worthy to be here”; Love said “You shall be he.” “I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, […]...
27. Typographical The Editor wrote his political screed In ink that was fainter and fainter; He rose to the call of his country’s need, And in spiderish characters wrote with speed, A column on “Cutting the Painter”. The “reader” sat in his high-backed chair, For literals he was a hunter; But he stared aghast at the column […]...
28. Recovery All afternoon The tree shadows, accelerating, Lengthened Till Sunset Shot them black into infinity: Next morning Darkness Returned from the other Infinity and the Shadows caught ground And through the morning, slowing, Hardened into noon....
29. Death sets a Thing significant Death sets a Thing significant The Eye had hurried by Except a perished Creature Entreat us tenderly To ponder little Workmanships In Crayon, or in Wool, With “This was last Her fingers did” Industrious until The Thimble weighed too heavy The stitches stopped by themselves And then ’twas put among the Dust Upon the Closet […]...
30. An Irish Airman Forsees His Death I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My county is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan’s poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty […]...
31. THE DEATH OF ART “Reading well is one of the great pleasures that solitude can afford you.” -critic Harold Bloom, who first called slam poetry “the death of art.” I am not a poet. I want to be rich and buy things for my family. Besides, I am sort of popular and can honestly say I’ve had a great […]...
32. Sonnet 10 – Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright, Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed: And love is fire. And when I say at need I love thee. . . mark! . . . I love thee-in thy sight I […]...
33. The End of Love Now he is dead How should I know My true love’s arms From wind and snow? No man I meet In field or house Though in the street A hundred pass. The hurrying dust Has never a face, No longer human In man or woman. Now he is gone Why should I mourn My true […]...
34. On The Death Of Mr. James Van Otton The first day of this month the last hath bin To that deare soule. March never did come in So lyonlike as now: our lives are made As fickle as the weather or the shade. March dust growes plenty now, while wasting fate Strike heare to dust, well worth the proverbs rate. I could be […]...
35. Dead Love Dead love, by treason slain, lies stark, White as a dead stark-stricken dove: None that pass by him pause to mark Dead love. His heart, that strained and yearned and strove As toward the sundawn strives the lark, Is cold as all the old joy thereof. Dead men, re-risen from dust, may hark When rings […]...
36. The Call Out of the nothingness of sleep, The slow dreams of Eternity, There was a thunder on the deep: I came, because you called to me. I broke the Night’s primeval bars, I dared the old abysmal curse, And flashed through ranks of frightened stars Suddenly on the universe! The eternal silences were broken; Hell became […]...
37. Love is Enough Love is enough. Let us not ask for gold. Wealth breeds false aims, and pride and selfishness; In those serene, Arcadian days of old Men gave no thought to princely homes and dress. The gods who dwelt on fair Olympia’s height Lived only for dear love and love’s delight. Love is enough. Love is enough. […]...
38. 379. Song-Fragment-Love for love ITHERS seek they ken na what, Features, carriage, and a’ that; Gie me love in her I court, Love to love maks a’ the sport. Let love sparkle in her e’e; Let her lo’e nae man but me; That’s the tocher-gude I prize, There the luver’s treasure lies....
39. Talk to me of love Talk to me of love with wonder in your eyes, Of limber magic flying through the veiling air And soft-edged silks trailing in a vintage plume, The bloom of fragrant lavender intimate in your hair – and I will recline there in the sweetest ease. Talk to me of love in honeyed tones, in whispered […]...
40. To die takes just a little while To die takes just a little while They say it doesn’t hurt It’s only fainter by degrees And then it’s out of sight A darker Ribbon for a Day A Crape upon the Hat And then the pretty sunshine comes And helps us to forget The absent mystic creature That but for love of us […]...