The Shame of Going Back

Related poetry:

1. Shame is the shawl of Pink Shame is the shawl of Pink In which we wrap the Soul To keep it from infesting Eyes The elemental Veil Which helpless Nature drops When pushed upon a scene Repugnant to her probity Shame is the tint divine....
2. There is a Shame of Nobleness There is a Shame of Nobleness Confronting Sudden Pelf A finer Shame of Ecstasy Convicted of Itself A best Disgrace a Brave Man feels Acknowledged of the Brave One More “Ye Blessed” to be told But that’s Behind the Grave...
3. Die in shame! You hide your face in shame, But I can see your private parts, Have you no contrition, To expose yourself, shamelessly, thus? Tell me what does it feel, To be watched while you strain? Is that why you hang your head in shame; Has all embarrassment left you? I know it’s hard; you need your […]...
4. It feels a shame to be Alive It feels a shame to be Alive When Men so brave are dead One envies the Distinguished Dust Permitted such a Head The Stone that tells defending Whom This Spartan put away What little of Him we possessed In Pawn for Liberty The price is great Sublimely paid Do we deserve a Thing That lives […]...
5. Sonnet 129: Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and, till action, lust Is perjured, murderous, bloody full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust, Enjoyed no sooner but despisèd straight, Past reason hunted, and no sooner had Past reason hated as a swallowed bait On purpose laid to […]...
6. Sonnets CXXIX: Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame Is lust in action; and till action, lust Is perjur’d, murd’rous, bloody, full of blame, Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust; Enjoy’d no sooner but despised straight; Past reason hunted; and, no sooner had, Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait, On purpose laid to […]...
7. Sonnet 10: For shame, deny that thou bear'st love to any For shame, deny that thou bear’st love to any Who for thy self art so unprovident. Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, But that thou none lov’st is most evident; For thou art so possessed with murd’rous hate, That ‘gainst thy self thou stick’st not to conspire, Seeking that beauteous roof to […]...
8. Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame Which, like a canker in the fragrant rose, Doth spot the beauty of thy budding name! O, in what sweets dost thou thy sins enclose! That tongue that tells the story of thy days, Making lascivious comments on thy sport, Cannot dispraise, but in a kind […]...
9. The Remains I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets. I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. At night I turn back the clocks; I open the family album and look at myself as a boy. What good does it do? The hours have done their job. I say my […]...
10. Munition Maker I am the Cannon King, behold! I perish on a throne of gold. With forest far and turret high, Renowned and rajah-rich am I. My father was, and his before, With wealth we owe to war on war; But let no potentate be proud. . . There are no pockets in a shroud. By nature […]...
11. The Waning Moon And like a dying lady, lean and pale, Who totters forth, wrapped in a gauzy veil, Out of her chamber, led by the insane And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, The moon arose up in the murky east, A white and shapeless mass....
12. And like a Dying Lady, Lean and Pale And like a dying lady, lean and pale, Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a gauzy veil, Out of her chamber, led by the insane And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, The moon arose up in the murky East, A white and shapeless mass...
13. Shame You often look at her at some nights, when she is asleep so sound so tight. You wonder how come a child innocent can drive a grown up mad and impatient. Everything comes with a price, and what a tag for this one. Like last night when sleep crawled like a snail, a new day […]...
14. Shame It is a cramped little state with no foreign policy, Save to be thought inoffensive. The grammar of the language Has never been fathomed, owing to the national habit Of allowing each sentence to trail off in confusion. Those who have visited Scusi, the capital city, Report that the railway-route from Schuldig passes Through country […]...
15. Dancing Tango Oh, Orlando! Remember the night we danced Quietly on the sands where music Was played? Your words were Wonderers, said quietly In the pockets of my ears. Oh, Esphahan! With your turquoise blue mosques And lovers hiding under the sands By the Zayandehrood and its haunting Blue skies. Still the words did Wonders when they […]...
16. Ripening The longer we are together The larger death grows around us. How many we know by now Who are dead! We, who were young, Now count the cost of having been. And yet as we know the dead We grow familiar with the world. We, who were young and loved each other Ignorantly, now come […]...
17. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say […]...
18. The Identification So you think its Stephen? Then I’d best make sure Be on the safe side as it were. Ah, theres been a mistake. The hair You see, its black, now Stephens fair… Whats that? The explosion? Of course, burnt black. Silly of me. I should have known. Then lets get on. The face, is that […]...
19. Absence My cup is empty to-night, Cold and dry are its sides, Chilled by the wind from the open window. Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight. The room is filled with the strange scent Of wistaria blossoms. They sway in the moon’s radiance And tap against the wall. But the cup of my […]...
20. Forever at His side to walk Forever at His side to walk The smaller of the two! Brain of His Brain Blood of His Blood Two lives One Being now Forever of His fate to taste If grief the largest part If joy to put my piece away For that beloved Heart All life to know each other Whom we can […]...
21. Rhyme-Smith Oh, I was born a lyric babe (That last word is a bore – It’s only rhyme is astrolabe,” Whose meaning I ignore.) From cradlehood I lisped in numbers, Made jingles even in my slumbers. Said Ma: “He’ll be a bard, I know it.” Said Pa: “let’s hoe he will outgrow it.” Alas! I never […]...
22. Dream Song 131: Come touch me baby in his waking dream Come touch me baby in his waking dream Disordered Henry murmured. I’ll read you Hegel And that will hurt your mind I can’t remember when you were unkind But I will clear that block, I’ll set you on fire Along with our babies To save them up the high & ruined stairs, My growing daughters. […]...
23. The Quitter When you’re lost in the Wild, and you’re scared as a child, And Death looks you bang in the eye, And you’re sore as a boil, it’s according to Hoyle To cock your revolver and. . . die. But the Code of a Man says: “Fight all you can,” And self-dissolution is barred. In hunger […]...
24. Wendell P. Bloyd They first charged me with disorderly conduct, There being no statute on blasphemy. Later they locked me up as insane Where I was beaten to death by a Catholic guard. My offense was this: I said God lied to Adam, and destined him To lead the life of a fool, Ignorant that there is evil […]...
25. The Lady's First Song I turn round Like a dumb beast in a show. Neither know what I am Nor where I go, My language beaten Into one name; I am in love And that is my shame. What hurts the soul My soul adores, No better than a beast Upon all fours....
26. Suicide In The Trenches I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum, With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. You smug-faced crowds […]...
27. Bless 'em beggars, buskers, street vendors bless ’em beggars, buskers, street vendors Breastfeeding mothers, fathers weather- Beaten, misplaced babies, outofschoolboys&girls Enduring with furious fidelity Everyday musk of japanese/german carfumery Bless ’em by-products of national antigress Fretful souls on the brims of sanity&civility However they might have depreciated thin Our soles of mercy Each with a pair of nike shoes, before we […]...
28. Quia Absurdum Guard yourself from the terrible empty light of space, the bottomless Pool of the stars. (Expose yourself to it: you might learn something.) Guard yourself from perceiving the inherent nastiness of man and woman. (Expose yourself to it: you might learn something.) Faith, as they now confess, is preposterous, an act of will. Choose the […]...
29. Love Letter Written In A Burning Building I am in a crate, the crate that was ours, Full of white shirts and salad greens, The icebox knocking at our delectable knocks, And I wore movies in my eyes, And you wore eggs in your tunnel, And we played sheets, sheets, sheets All day, even in the bathtub like lunatics. But today I […]...
30. Jigsaw Puzzles and You There were long hyphens in our day- When no one spoke; no one exhaled As we contemplated the broken puzzles- The broken tiles all over the floor Some might have called us mad- Insane – in this ceramic nightmare Of yoga knees and bloody feet- Empty bottles scattered on a garden mat And still we […]...
31. My young son asks me My young son asks me: Must I learn mathematics? What is the use, I feel like saying. That two pieces Of bread are more than one’s about all you’ll end up with. My young son asks me: Must I learn French? What is the use, I feel like saying. This State’s collapsing. And if you […]...
32. The Bombay Train Song He hangs on dangling handholds As the train sways and careens Endless nondescript buildings unfold Their secrets as the tired warrior returns. The day is over the night falls Thickly through the barricaded windows The man’s sleepy head lolls On his shoulder in a dream disturbed. The days are a hard white collar brawl The […]...
33. Vain Venture To have a business of my own With toil and tears, I wore my fingers to the bone For weary years. With stoic heart, for sordid gold In patient pain My life and liberty I sold For others gain. I scrimped and scraped, as cent by cent My savings grew; I found a faded shop […]...
34. Bitter sweet The events Of September 11th 2001 remain bitter sweet; As well as 2973 innocents Confirmed dead (with their 19 Terrorist murderers) there Are still 24 persons To be accounted for. It was an insane act Of calculated violence, Deplorable in that it defeated Lucid belief, horrific in every Rational sense except Its immediate impact. You […]...
35. The Dead Drummer I They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest Uncoffined just as found: His landmark is a kopje-crest That breaks the veldt around; And foreign constellations west Each night above his mound. II Young Hodge the Drummer never knew – Fresh from his Wessex home – The meaning of the broad Karoo, The Bush, the dusty […]...
36. Drummer Hodge They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest Uncoffined just as found: His landmark is a kopje-crest That breaks the veldt around: And foreign constellations west Each night above his mound. Young Hodge the drummer never knew Fresh from his Wessex home The meaning of the broad Karoo, The Bush, the dusty loam, And why uprose […]...
37. Shells (Morecombe Bay February 2004) Grey skies, cold and bitter wind A share of a damp mattress In an unheated room. You follow orders from the brother To the man who let your cousin die In a truck approaching Dover. Your parents wait back home With nothing but pain and a photo of you Smiling through […]...
38. Gangrene Vous êtes sorti sain et sauf des basses Calomnies, vous avey conquis les coeurs. Zola, J’accuse One was kicked in the stomach Until he vomited, then made to put back Into his mouth what they had Brought forth; when he tried to drown in his own stew He was recovered. “You are Worse than a […]...
39. Without You My Pillow gazes upon me at night Empty as a gravestone; I never thought it would be so bitter To be alone, Not to lie down asleep in your hair. I lie alone in a silent house, The hanging lamp darkened, And gently stretch out my hands To gather in yours, And softly press my […]...
40. The Choice Life, come to me in no pale guise and ashen, I care not for thee in such placid fashion! I would share widely, Life, In all thy joy and strife, Would sound thy deeps and reach thy highest passion, With thy delight and with thy suffering rife. Whether I bide with thee in cot or […]...