The Ventriloquists

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1. The trees in the garden rained flowers The trees in the garden rained flowers. Children ran there joyously. They gathered the flowers Each to himself. Now there were some Who gathered great heaps Having opportunity and skill Until, behold, only chance blossoms Remained for the feeble. Then a little spindling tutor Ran importantly to the father, crying: “Pray, come hither! See this […]...
2. The Yak As a friend to the children Commend me the Yak. You will find it exactly the thing: It will carry and fetch, you can ride on its back, Or lead it about with a string. The Tartar who dwells on the plains of Thibet (A desolate region of snow) Has for centuries made it a […]...
3. Stalk Me Liner Notes – (from Love Is A Dog From Hell) My friend Jenny is really Worried that people are going to follow me around and send me dead animal Parts and doll heads as a result of this song but please, if you feel inclined To send me dead animal parts, think it through. Thanks. […]...
4. The Conspiracy You send me your poems, I’ll send you mine. Things tend to awaken Even through random communication Let us suddenly Proclaim spring. And jeer At the others, All the others. I will send a picture too If you will send me one of you....
5. Those cattle smaller than a Bee Those cattle smaller than a Bee That herd upon the eye Whose tillage is the passing Crumb Those Cattle are the Fly Of Barns for Winter blameless Extemporaneous stalls They found to our objection On eligible walls Reserving the presumption To suddenly descend And gallop on the Furniture Or odiouser offend Of their peculiar calling […]...
6. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
7. Spenser's Ireland has not altered; A place as kind as it is green, The greenest place I’ve never seen. Every name is a tune. Denunciations do not affect The culprit; nor blows, but it Is torture to him to not be spoken to. They’re natural, The coat, like Venus’ Mantle lined with stars, Buttoned close at the […]...
8. The bouncing spider schnyder schnyder The bouncing spider Had a song Wound up inside her She’d had it taped On a silken spool This was the song She sang as a rule O little fly Come be my friend I have fly’s gold For you to spend I’ll wrap you in silks To make you pretty If you […]...
9. The Rum Tum Tugger The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat: If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse. If you put him in a house he would much prefer a flat, If you put him in a flat then he’d rather have a house. If you set him on a mouse then he only wants […]...
10. 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 […]...
11. Hymn 60 The Virgin Mary’s song. Luke 1:46ff. Our souls shall magnify the Lord, In God the Savior we rejoice: While we repeat the Virgin’s song, May the same Spirit tune our voice! [The Highest saw her low estate, And mighty things his hand hath done: His overshadowing power and grace Makes her the mother of his […]...
12. The Shadowy Waters: Introductory Lines I walked among the seven woods of Coole: Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn; Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no, Where many hundred squirrels are as happy As though they had been hidden hy green houghs Where old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee, Where hazel and ash and privet hlind […]...
13. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
14. Meditatio When I carefully consider the curious habits of dogs I am compelled to conclude That man is the superior animal. When I consider the curious habits of man I confess, my friend, I am puzzled....
15. Bilbea BILBEA, I was in Babylon on Saturday night. I saw nothing of you anywhere. I was at the old place and the other girls were there, but no Bilbea. Have you gone to another house? or city? Why don’t you write? I was sorry. I walked home half-sick. Tell me how it goes. Send me […]...
16. Hymn To Life The hair falling on your forehead suddenly lifted. Suddenly something stirred on the ground. The trees are whispering in the dark. Your bare arms will be cold. Far off where we can’t see, the moon must be rising. It hasn’t reached us yet, slipping through the leaves to light up your shoulder. But I know […]...
17. Under the Moon Under the crescent moon’s faint glow The washerman’s bat resounds afar, And the autumn breeze sighs tenderly. But my heart has gone to the Tartar war, To bleak Kansuh and the steppes of snow, Calling my husband back to me....
18. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
19. Lament (Whom will you cry to, heart?) Whom will you cry to, heart? More and more lonely, Your path struggles on through incomprehensible Mankind. All the more futile perhaps For keeping to its direction, Keeping on toward the future, Toward what has been lost. Once. You lamented? What was it? A fallen berry Of jubilation, unripe. But now the whole tree of […]...
20. The Seed I was a seed that fell In silver dew; And nobody could tell, For no one knew; No one could tell my fate, As I grew tall; None visioned me with hate, No, none at all. A sapling I became, Blest by the sun; No rumour of my shame Had any one. Oh I was […]...
21. Mid-ocean in War-time (For My Mother) The fragile splendour of the level sea, The moon’s serene and silver-veiled face, Make of this vessel an enchanted place Full of white mirth and golden sorcery. Now, for a time, shall careless laughter be Blended with song, to lend song sweeter grace, And the old stars, in their unending race, Shall […]...
22. Advice to the Grub Street Verse-writers Ye poets ragged and forlorn, Down from your garrets haste; Ye rhymers, dead as soon as born, Not yet consign’d to paste; I know a trick to make you thrive; O, ’tis a quaint device: Your still-born poems shall revive, And scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, Then let them […]...
23. The Blue Swallows Across the millstream below the bridge Seven blue swallows divide the air In shapes invisible and evanescent, Kaleidoscopic beyond the mind’s Or memory’s power to keep them there. “History is where tensions were,” “Form is the diagram of forces.” Thus, helplessly, there on the bridge, While gazing down upon those birds – How strange, to […]...
24. Walking To Oak-Head Pond, And Thinking Of The Ponds I Will Visit In The Next Days And Weeks What is so utterly invisible As tomorrow? Not love, Not the wind, Not the inside of a stone. Not anything. And yet, how often I’m fooled I’m wading along In the sunlight And I’m sure I can see the fields and the ponds shining Days ahead I can see the light spilling Like a shower […]...
25. Sonnet LXIII Against my love shall be, as I am now, With Time’s injurious hand crush’d and o’er-worn; When hours have drain’d his blood and fill’d his brow With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn Hath travell’d on to age’s steepy night, And all those beauties whereof now he’s king Are vanishing or vanish’d out of […]...
26. Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now Against my love shall be, as I am now, With Time’s injurious hand crushed and o’erworn; When hours have drained his blood and filled his brow With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn Hath travelled on to age’s steepy night, And all those beauties whereof now he’s king Are vanishing, or vanished out of […]...
27. The Flower Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed. To and fro they went Thro’ my garden bower, And muttering discontent Cursed me and my flower. Then it grew so tall It wore a crown of light, But thieves from o’er the wall […]...
28. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
29. 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 […]...
30. Dumb Gabriel whispered in mine ear His archangelic poesie. How can I write? I only hear The sobbing murmur of the sea. Raphael breathed and bade me pass His rapt evangel to mankind; I cannot even match, alas! The ululation of the wind. The gross grey gods like gargoyles spit On every poet’s holy head; No […]...
31. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
32. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
33. 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....
34. Wishes, For Alix Always searching, may you find; If you run-down, May you wind; Every year May you grow Reaping only What you sow Sowing only in the seed What will ripen into need What will sweeten to the touch Seeming little, being much. May your playmates be a song, May your friends just skip along Laughing you […]...
35. Paradise Seed Where is the seed Of the tree felled, Of the forest burned, Or living root Under ash and cinders? From woven bud What last leaf strives Into life, last Shrivelled flower? Is fruit of our harvest, Our long labour Dust to the core? To what far, fair land Borne on the wind What winged seed […]...
36. The Scribe What lovely things Thy hand hath made: The smooth-plumed bird In its emerald shade, The seed of the grass, The speck of the stone Which the wayfaring ant Stirs and hastes on! Though I should sit By some tarn in thy hills, Using its ink As the spirit wills To write of Earth’s wonders, Its […]...
37. 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 […]...
38. The Seed-At-Zero The seed-at-zero shall not storm That town of ghosts, the trodden womb, With her rampart to his tapping, No god-in-hero tumble down Like a tower on the town Dumbly and divinely stumbling Over the manwaging line. The seed-at-zero shall not storm That town of ghosts, the manwaged tomb With her rampart to his tapping, No […]...
39. The Song Of The Old Mother I rise in the dawn, and I kneel and blow Till the seed of the fire flicker and glow; And then I must scrub and bake and sweep Till stars are beginning to blink and peep; And the young lie long and dream in their bed Of the matching of ribbons for bosom and head, […]...
40. Mrs. Sibley The secret of the stars, gravitation. The secret of the earth, layers of rock. The secret of the soil, to receive seed. The secret of the seed, the germ. The secret of man, the sower. The secret of woman, the soil. My secret: Under a mound that you shall never find....