Ed

Related poetry:

1. Sunday Afternoons I sit at home At my desk alone As I used to do On many sunday afternoons When you came back to me, Your arms ached for me, And your arms would close me in Though they smelled of other women. I think of you On Sunday afternoons. Your sweet head would bow, Like a […]...
2. Invention Tonight the moon is a cracker, With a bite out of it Floating in the night, And in a week or so According to the calendar It will probably look Like a silver football, And nine, maybe ten days ago It reminded me of a thin bright claw. But eventually By the end of the […]...
3. How The Favourite Beat Us “Aye,” said the boozer, “I tell you it’s true, sir, I once was a punter with plenty of pelf, But gone is my glory, I’ll tell you the story How I stiffened my horse and got stiffened myself. “‘Twas a mare called the Cracker, I came down to back her, But found she was favourite […]...
4. Mary's Son If you stop to find out what your wages will be And how they will clothe and feed you, Willie, my son, don’t you go on the Sea. For the Sea will never need you. If you ask for the reason of every command, And argue with people about you, Willie, my son, don’t you […]...
5. Still Here I been scared and battered. My hopes the wind done scattered. Snow has friz me, Sun has baked me, Looks like between ’em they done Tried to make me Stop laughin’, stop lovin’, stop livin’ But I don’t care! I’m still here!...
6. Ape And Coffee Some coffee had gotten on a man’s ape. The man said, Animal did you get on my coffee? No no, whistled the ape, the coffee got on me. You’re sure you didn’t spill on my coffee? said the man. Do I look like a liquid? peeped the ape. Well you sure don’t look human, said […]...
7. Screw-Guns Smokin’ my pipe on the mountings, sniffin’ the mornin’ cool, I walks in my old brown gaiters along o’ my old brown mule, With seventy gunners be’ind me, an’ never a beggar forgets It’s only the pick of the Army that handles the dear little pets ‘Tss! ‘Tss! For you all love the screw-guns the […]...
8. The Night Cometh Work! for the night is coming; Work! through the morning hours; Work! while the dew is sparkling; Work! ‘mid the springing flowers; Work! while the day grows brighter, Under the glowing sun; Work! for the night is coming, Night, when man’s work is done. Work! for the night is coming; Work! through the sunny noon; […]...
9. A Gardener-Sage Here in the garden-bed, Hoeing the celery, Wonders the Lord has made Pass ever before me. I see the young birds build, And swallows come and go, And summer grow and gild, And winter die in snow. Many a thing I note, And store it in my mind, For all my ragged coat That scarce […]...
10. I Live In The Twentieth Century I live in the Twentieth Century And you lie here beside me. You Were unhappy when you fell asleep. There was nothing I could do about It. I felt hopeless. Your face Is so beautiful that I cannot stop To describe it, and there’s nothing I can do to make you happy while You sleep....
11. Happiness I ASKED the professors who teach the meaning of life to tell Me what is happiness. And I went to famous executives who boss the work of Thousands of men. They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though I was trying to fool with them And then one Sunday afternoon I […]...
12. The house where I was born (07) I remember, it was a morning, in summer, The window was half-open, I drew near, I could see my father at the end of the garden. He was motionless, looking for something, I could not tell what, or where, beyond the world, His body was already bent over, but his gaze Was lifted toward the […]...
13. The Lost Drink I had spent the night in the watch-house My head was the size of three So I went and asked the chemist To fix up a drink for me; And he brewed it from various bottles With soda and plenty of ice, With something that smelt like lemon, And something that seemed like spice. It […]...
14. Have You Seen But A Bright Lily Grow Have you seen but a bright lily grow Before rude hands have touched it? Have you marked but the fall of snow Before the soil hath smutched it? Have you felt the wool of beaver, Or swan’s down ever? Or have smelt o’ the bud o’ the brier, Or the nard in the fire? Or […]...
15. After The Storm There are so many islands! As many islands as the stars at night On that branched tree from which meteors are shaken Like falling fruit around the schooner Flight. But things must fall, and so it always was, On one hand Venus, on the other Mars; Fall, and are one, just as this earth is […]...
16. The Promise of Sleep Put the sweet thoughts from out thy mind, The dreams from out thy breast; No joy for thee but thou shalt find Thy rest All day I could not work for woe, I could not work nor rest; The trouble drove me to and fro, Like a leaf on the storm’s breast. Night came and […]...
17. More About People When people aren’t asking questions They’re making suggestions And when they’re not doing one of those They’re either looking over your shoulder or stepping on your toes And then as if that weren’t enough to annoy you They employ you. Anybody at leisure Incurs everybody’s displeasure. It seems to be very irking To people at […]...
18. Chords IN the morning, a Sunday morning, shadows of sea and adumbrants of rock in her eyes… horseback in leather boots and leather gauntlets by the sea. In the evening, a Sunday evening, a rope of pearls on her white shoulders… and a speaking, brooding black velvet, relapsing to the voiceless… battering Russian marches on a […]...
19. The Song of the Shirt With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch She sang the “Song of the Shirt.” “Work! work! work! While the cock is crowing aloof! And work […]...
20. Ninth Inning He woke up in New York City on Valentine’s Day, Speeding. The body in the booth next to his was still warm, Was gone. He had bought her a sweater, a box of chocolate Said her life wasn’t working he looked stricken she said You’re all bent out of shape, accusingly, and when he She […]...
21. A Solemn thing within the Soul A Solemn thing within the Soul To feel itself get ripe And golden hang while farther up The Maker’s Ladders stop And in the Orchard far below You hear a Being drop A Wonderful to feel the Sun Still toiling at the Cheek You thought was finished Cool of eye, and critical of Work He […]...
22. Pencils PENCILS Telling where the wind comes from open a story. Pencils Telling where the wind goes end a story. These eager pencils Come to a stop .. only.. when the stars high over Come to a stop. Out of cabalistic to-morrows Come cryptic babies calling life A strong and a lovely thing. I have seen […]...
23. Next Time Next time what I’d do is look at The earth before saying anything. I’d stop Just before going into a house And be an emperor for a minute And listen better to the wind or to the air being still. When anyone talked to me, whether Blame or praise or just passing time, I’d watch […]...
24. I like to see it lap the Miles I like to see it lap the Miles And lick the Valleys up And stop to feed itself at Tanks And then prodigious step Around a Pile of Mountains And supercilious peer In Shanties by the sides of Roads And then a Quarry pare To fit its Ribs And crawl between Complaining all the while […]...
25. THE FUNERAL RITES OF THE ROSE The Rose was sick, and smiling died; And, being to be sanctified, About the bed, there sighing stood The sweet and flowery sisterhood. Some hung the head, while some did bring, To wash her, water from the spring; Some laid her forth, while others wept, But all a solemn fast there kept. The holy sisters […]...
26. Epitaph Stop, Christian passer-by : Stop, child of God, And read, with gentle breast. Beneath this sod A poet lies, or that which once seem’d he O, lift one thought in prayer for S. T. C. That he who many a year with toil of breath Found death in life, may here find life in death […]...
27. Work Let me but do my work from day to day, In field or forest, at the desk or loom, In roaring market-place or tranquil room; Let me but find it in my heart to say, When vagrant wishes beckon me astray, “This is my work; my blessing, not my doom; “Of all who live, I […]...
28. Jaloppy Joy Past ash cans and alley cats, Fetid. overflowing gutters, Leprous lines of rancid flats Where the frowsy linen flutters; With a rattle and a jar, Hark! I sing a happy ditty, As I speed my Master far From the poison of the City. Speed him to the sportive sea, Watch him walloping the briny, Light […]...
29. Day Dream One day people will touch and talk perhaps Easily, And loving be natural as breathing and warm as Sunlight, And people will untie themselves, as string is unknotted, Unfold and yawn and stretch and spread their fingers, Unfurl, uncurl like seaweed returned to the sea, And work will be simple and swift As a seagull […]...
30. Our Hired Girl Our hired girl, she’s ‘Lizabuth Ann; An’ she can cook best things to eat! She ist puts dough in our pie-pan, An’ pours in somepin’ ‘at’s good an’ sweet; An’ nen she salts it all on top With cinnamon; an’ nen she’ll stop An’ stoop an’ slide it, ist as slow, In th’ old cook-stove, […]...
31. Corny Bill His old clay pipe stuck in his mouth, His hat pushed from his brow, His dress best fitted for the South I think I see him now; And when the city streets are still, And sleep upon me comes, I often dream that me an’ Bill Are humpin’ of our drums. I mind the time […]...
32. No Beer, No Work The shades of night was fallin’ slow As through New York a guy did go And nail on ev’ry barroom door A card that this here motter bore: “No beer, no work.” His brow was sad, his mouth was dry; It was the first day of July, And where, all parched and scorched it hung, […]...
33. TO THE MEMORY OF MY MOTHER This is one spring you will not see. The fifty roses of your spray Smelt soft across that February day Where trees, heavy as only crematoria Can bear, sloped down the fallen banks To where we waited in the chapel, me Clutching Father Kevin’s hand, remembering My given grace and faith renewed In answer to […]...
34. Pine-Trees and the Sky: Evening I’d watched the sorrow of the evening sky, And smelt the sea, and earth, and the warm clover, And heard the waves, and the seagull’s mocking cry. And in them all was only the old cry, That song they always sing “The best is over! You may remember now, and think, and sigh, O silly […]...
35. Villanelle of Change Since Persia fell at Marathon, The yellow years have gathered fast: Long centuries have come and gone. And yet (they say) the place will don A phantom fury of the past, Since Persia fell at Marathon; And as of old, when Helicon Trembled and swayed with rapture vast (Long centuries have come and gone), This […]...
36. Fuck Me FUCK ME I’m all screwed up so FUCK ME. FUCK ME And take out the garbage Feed the cat and FUCK ME You can do it, I know you can. FUCK ME And theorize about Sado Masochism’s relationship To classical philosophy Tell me how this stimulates The fabric of most human relationships, I love that […]...
37. Work Gangs BOX cars run by a mile long. And I wonder what they say to each other When they stop a mile long on a sidetrack. Maybe their chatter goes: I came from Fargo with a load of wheat up to the danger line. I came from Omaha with a load of shorthorns and they splintered […]...
38. Harry Wilmans I was just turned twenty-one, And Henry Phipps, the Sunday-school superintendent, Made a speech in Bindle’s Opera House. “The honor of the flag must be upheld,” he said, “Whether it be assailed by a barbarous tribe of Tagalogs Or the greatest power in Europe.” And we cheered and cheered the speech and the flag he […]...
39. Work And Joy Each day I live I thank the Lord I do the work I love; And in it find a rich reward, All price and praise above. For few may do the work they love, The fond unique employ, That fits them as a hand a glove, And gives them joy. Oh gentlefolk, do you and […]...
40. Hoppity Christopher Robin goes Hoppity, hoppity, Hoppity, hoppity, hop. Whenever I tell him Politely to stop it, he Says he can’t possibly stop. If he stopped hopping, He couldn’t go anywhere, Poor little Christopher Couldn’t go anywhere… That’s why he always goes Hoppity, hoppity, Hoppity, Hoppity, Hop....