The Way I read a Letter's this

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1. My Father's Love Letters On Fridays he’d open a can of Jax After coming home from the mill, & ask me to write a letter to my mother Who sent postcards of desert flowers Taller than men. He would beg, Promising to never beat her Again. Somehow I was happy She had gone, & sometimes wanted To slip in […]...
2. When I read the Book WHEN I read the book, the biography famous, And is this, then, (said I,) what the author calls a man’s life? And so will some one, when I am dead and gone, write my life? (As if any man really knew aught of my life; Why, even I myself, I often think, know little or […]...
3. The Masked Face I found me in a great surging space, At either end a door, And I said: “What is this giddying place, With no firm-fixéd floor, That I knew not of before?” “It is Life,” said a mask-clad face. I asked: “But how do I come here, Who never wished to come; Can the light and […]...
4. Read Sweet how others strove Read Sweet how others strove Till we are stouter What they renounced Till we are less afraid How many times they bore the faithful witness Till we are helped As if a Kingdom cared! Read then of faith That shone above the fagot Clear strains of Hymn The River could not drown Brave names of […]...
5. All the letters I can write All the letters I can write Are not fair as this Syllables of Velvet Sentences of Plush, Depths of Ruby, undrained, Hid, Lip, for Thee Play it were a Humming Bird And just sipped me...
6. Sonnet XIII: Letters and Lines To the Shadow Letters and lines we see are soon defac’d, Metals do waste and fret with canker’s rust, The diamond shall once consume to dust, And freshest colors with foul stains disgrac’d; Paper and ink can paint but naked words, To write with blood of force offends the sight; And if with tears I […]...
7. Myself can read the Telegrams Myself can read the Telegrams A Letter chief to me The Stock’s advance and Retrograde And what the Markets say The Weather how the Rains In Counties have begun. ‘Tis News as null as nothing, But sweeter so than none....
8. He Came To Read He came to read. Two or three books Are open; historians and poets. But he only read for ten minutes, And gave them up. He is dozing On the sofa. He is fully devoted to books But he is twenty-three years old, and he’s very handsome; And this afternoon love passed Through his ideal flesh, […]...
9. WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse The holy incantation of a verse; But when that men have both well drunk, and fed, Let my enchantments then be sung or read. When laurel spirts i’ th’ fire, and when the hearth Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth; When up the Thyrse is […]...
10. I read my sentence steadily I read my sentence steadily Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause The Date, and manner, of the shame And then the Pious Form That “God have mercy” on the Soul The Jury voted Him I made my soul familiar with her extremity That at the […]...
11. Read Your Fate A world’s disappearing. Little street, You were too narrow, Too much in the shade already. You had only one dog, One lone child. You hid your biggest mirror, Your undressed lovers. Someone carted them off In an open truck. They were still naked, travelling On their sofa Over a darkening plain, Some unknown Kansas or […]...
12. Missing Has anybody seen my mouse? I opened his box for half a minute, Just to make sure he was really in it, And while I was looking, he jumped outside! I tried to catch him, I tried, I tried…. I think he’s somewhere about the house. Has anyone seen my mouse? Uncle John, have you […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. On The Eating Of Mice A woman prepared a mouse for her husband’s dinner, Roasting it with a blueberry in its mouth. At table he uses a dentist’s pick and a surgeon’s scalpel, Bending over the tiny roastling with a jeweler’s loupe. . . Twenty years of this: curried mouse, garlic and butter Mouse, mouse sauteed in its own fur, […]...
15. The Letters Still on the tower stood the vane, A black yew gloomed the stagnant air, I peered athwart the chancel pane And saw the altar cold and bare. A clog of lead was round my feet, A band of pain across my brow; “Cold altar, Heaven and earth shall meet Before you hear my marriage vow.” […]...
16. To read in the morning and at night Morgens und abends zu lesen Der, den ich liebe Hat mir gesagt DaЯ er mich braucht. Darum Gebe ich auf mich acht Sehe auf meinen Weg und Fürchte von jedem Regentropfen DaЯ er mich erschlagen könnte. [Translation] To read in the morning and at night My love Has told me That he needs me. That’s […]...
17. Lo! In Thine Honest Eyes I Read LO! in thine honest eyes I read The auspicious beacon that shall lead, After long sailing in deep seas, To quiet havens in June ease. Thy voice sings like an inland bird First by the seaworn sailor heard; And like road sheltered from life’s sea Thine honest heart is unto me....
18. Sonnet LIV: Yet Read at Last Yet read at last the story of my woe, The dreary abstracts of my endless cares, With my life’s sorrow interlined so, Smok’d with my sighs and blotted with my tears, The sad memorials of my miseries, Penn’d in the grief of mine afflicted ghost, My life’s complaint in doleful elegies, With so pure love […]...
19. Some Foreign Letters I knew you forever and you were always old, Soft white lady of my heart. Surely you would scold Me for sitting up late, reading your letters, As if these foreign postmarks were meant for me. You posted them first in London, wearing furs And a new dress in the winter of eighteen-ninety. I read […]...
20. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
21. We pray to Heaven We pray to Heaven We prate of Heaven Relate when Neighbors die At what o’clock to heaven they fled Who saw them Wherefore fly? Is Heaven a Place a Sky a Tree? Location’s narrow way is for Ourselves Unto the Dead There’s no Geography But State Endowal Focus Where Omnipresence fly?...
22. Lines Inscribed on The Wall of a Dungeon in The Southern P of I Though not a breath can enter here, I know the wind blows fresh and free; I know the sun is shining clear, Though not a gleam can visit me. They thought while I in darkness lay, ‘Twere pity that I should not know How all the earth is smiling gay; How fresh the vernal breezes […]...
23. LETTERS TO FRIENDS I Eddie Linden Dear Eddie we’ve not met Except upon the written page And at your age the wonder Is that you write at all When so many have gone under Or been split asunder by narcissistic humours Blunder following blunder Barker and Graham, godfathering my verse Bearing me cloud-handed to Haworth moor From my […]...
24. The Lockless Door It went many years, But at last came a knock, And I though of the door With no lock to lock. I blew out the light, I tip-toed the floor, And raised both hands In prayer to the door. But the knock came again. My window was wide; I climbed on the sill And descended […]...
25. Letters From A Man In Solitary 1 I carved your name on my watchband With my fingernail. Where I am, you know, I don’t have a pearl-handled jackknife (they won’t give me anything sharp) or a plane tree with its head in the clouds. Trees may grow in the yard, But I’m not allowed to see the sky overhead… How many […]...
26. Mary Ellen It’s mighty quiet in the house Since Mary Ellen quit me cold; I’ve swept the hearth and fed the mouse That’s getting fat and overbold. I’ve bought a pig’s foot for the pot And soon I’ll set the fire alight; Then I may eat or I may not, Depends upon my appetite. Since Mary Ellen […]...
27. My White Mouse At dusk I saw a craintive mouse That sneaked and stole around the house; At first I took it for a ghost, For it was snowy white – almost. I’ve seen them in captivity, But this white mouse was wild and free, And every eye with stealth it stole And foraged in the garbage hole. […]...
28. The Two Old Bachelors Two old Bachelors were living in one house; One caught a Muffin, the other caught a Mouse. Said he who caught the Muffin to him who caught the Mouse, – “This happens just in time! For we’ve nothing in the house, “Save a tiny slice of lemon and a teaspoonful of honey, “And what to […]...
29. Admire their style I’m reading fellow poets’ blogs today, A sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment Or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though It is to sigh about uneasy affirmation. I hope when they read me (if they ever do) They rest as easy on my lack of finished form, The hazy, […]...
30. Poetry it Takes A lot of Desperation Dissatisfaction And Disillusion To Write A Few Good Poems. It’s not For Everybody Either to Write It Or even to Read It....
31. My Mistress Commanding Me to Return Her Letters SO grieves th’ adventurous merchant, when he throws All the long toil’d-for treasure his ship stows Into the angry main, to save from wrack Himself and men, as I grieve to give back These letters : yet so powerful is your sway As if you bid me die, I must obey. Go then, blest papers, […]...
32. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
33. A Ritual To Read To Each Other If you don’t know the kind of person I am And I don’t know the kind of person you are A pattern that others made may prevail in the world And following the wrong god home we may miss our star. For there is many a small betrayal in the mind, A shrug that lets […]...
34. Room 4: The Painter Chap He gives me such a bold and curious look, That young American across the way, As if he’d like to put me in a book (Fancies himself a poet, so they say.) Ah well! He’ll make no “document” of me. I lock my door. Ha! ha! Now none shall see. . . . Pictures, just […]...
35. Letters I was thinking of letters, We all have a lot in our life A few good – a few sad But mostly run of the mill- I suppose that’s my fault For writing to run of the mill people. I’ve never had a letter I really wanted It might come one day But then, it […]...
36. The Letters I wonder if You keep the letters still, Spidery and blotted Now, like old days Just withered away. I remember sunlight bursts That inspired Those winged words, The spirit of spaces Flying paper aeroplanes of love. I picture us then- A perfect summer’s night Calligraphy of stars Burning Indian fire And I wonder if You […]...
37. I felt my life with both my hands I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler I turned my Being round and round And paused at every pound To ask the Owner’s name For doubt, that I should know the Sound I judged my features jarred […]...
38. To Be Read In The Morning And At Night My love Has told me That he needs me. That’s why I take good care of myself Watch out where I’m going and Fear that any drop of rain Might kill me....
39. Silent Letters Treacherous as trap door spiders, They ambush children’s innocence. “Why is there g h in light? It isn’t fair!” Buddha declared the world illusory As the p sound in psyche. Sartre Said the same of God from France, Olympus of silent letters, n’est – ce pas? Polite conceals an e in the same way “How […]...
40. Who shall deliver me? God strengthen me to bear myself; That heaviest weight of all to bear, Inalienable weight of care. All others are outside myself; I lock my door and bar them out The turmoil, tedium, gad-about. I lock my door upon myself, And bar them out; but who shall wall Self from myself, most loathed of all? […]...