The Immortals

Related poetry:

1. The Immortals If you should sail for Trebizond, or die, Or cry another name in your first sleep, Or see me board a train, and fail to sigh, Appropriately, I’d clutch my breast and weep. And you, if I should wander through the door, Or sin, or seek a nunnery, or save My lips and give my […]...
2. The Evenlode Torture will give a dozen pence or more To keep a drab from bawling at his door. The public taste is quite a different thing – Torture is positively paid to sing....
3. Many red devils ran from my heart Many red devils ran from my heart And out upon the page, They were so tiny The pen could mash them. And many struggled in the ink. It was strange To write in this red muck Of things from my heart....
4. 279. Epigram on Francis Grose the Antiquary THE DEVIL got notice that Grose was a-dying So whip! at the summons, old Satan came flying; But when he approached where poor Francis lay moaning, And saw each bed-post with its burthen a-groaning, Astonish’d, confounded, cries Satan-“By G-, I’ll want him, ere I take such a damnable load!”...
5. Jealousy When I see you, who were so wise and cool, Gazing with silly sickness on that fool You’ve given your love to, your adoring hands Touch his so intimately that each understands, I know, most hidden things; and when I know Your holiest dreams yield to the stupid bow Of his red lips, and that […]...
6. Psalm 18 part 1 v.1-6,15-18 L. M. Deliverance from despair. Thee will I love, O Lord, my strength, My rock, my tower, my high defence: Thy mighty arm shall be my trust, For I have found salvation thence. Death, and the terrors of the grave, Stood round me with their dismal shade; While floods of high temptations rose, And […]...
7. Ghosts Some ghosts are women, Neither abstract nor pale, Their breasts as limp as killed fish. Not witches, but ghosts Who come, moving their useless arms Like forsaken servants. Not all ghosts are women, I have seen others; Fat, white-bellied men, Wearing their genitals like old rags. Not devils, but ghosts. This one thumps barefoot, lurching […]...
8. When I'm Killed When I’m killed, don’t think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there’s one thing that I know well, I’m damned if I’ll be damned to Hell! So when I’m killed, don’t wait for me, Walking the dim corridor; In Heaven or Hell, […]...
9. Hymn 38 Love to God. Happy the heart where graces reign, Where love inspires the breast; Love is the brightest of the train, And strengthens all the rest. Knowledge, alas! ’tis all in vain, And all in vain our fear; Our stubborn sins will fight and reign, If love be absent there. ‘Tis love that makes our […]...
10. 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 […]...
11. Modern Love XXXVIII: Give to Imagination Give to imagination some pure light In human form to fix it, or you shame The devils with that hideous human game: Imagination urging appetite! Thus fallen have earth’s greatest Gogmagogs, Who dazzle us, whom we can not revere: Imagination is the charioteer That, in default of better, drives the hogs. So, therefore, my dear […]...
12. Filling Station Oh, but it is dirty! this little filling station, Oil-soaked, oil-permeated To a disturbing, over-all Black translucency. Be careful with that match! Father wears a dirty, Oil-soaked monkey suit That cuts him under the arms, And several quick and saucy And greasy sons assist him (it’s a family filling station), All quite thoroughly dirty. Do […]...
13. It Is March It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices When you look back there is always the past Even when it has vanished But when you look forward With […]...
14. Psalm 89 part 3 v.15ff C. M. A blessed gospel. Blest are the souls that hear and know The gospel’s joyful sound; Peace shall attend the path they go, And light their steps surround. Their joy shall bear their spirits up Through their Redeemer’s name; His righteousness exalts their hope, Nor Satan dares condemn. The Lord, our glory and […]...
15. 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 […]...
16. Hymn 157 Satan’s devices. Now Satan comes with dreadful roar And threatens to destroy; He worries whom he can’t devour With a malicious joy. Ye sons of God, oppose his rage, Resist, and he’ll begone; Thus did our dearest Lord engage And vanquish him alone. Now he appears almost divine, Like innocence and love; But the old […]...
17. The Spirit Medium Poetry, music, I have loved, and yet Because of those new dead That come into my soul and escape Confusion of the bed, Or those begotten or unbegotten Perning in a band, I bend my body to the spade Or grope with a dirty hand. Or those begotten or unbegotten, For I would not recall […]...
18. Give Me Strength This is my prayer to thee, my lord – strike, Strike at the root of penury in my heart. Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows. Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service. Give me the strength never to disown the poor or bend my knees before […]...
19. The Last Rose ‘O WHICH is the last rose?’ A blossom of no name. At midnight the snow came; At daybreak a vast rose, In darkness unfurl’d, O’er-petall’d the world. Its odourless pallor Blossom’d forlorn, Till radiant valour Establish’d the morn Till the night Was undone In her fight With the sun. The brave orb in state rose, […]...
20. The Rose Family The rose is a rose, And was always a rose. But the theory now goes That the apple’s a rose, And the pear is, and so’s The plum, I suppose. The dear only know What will next prove a rose. You, of course, are a rose But were always a rose....
21. The Rose did caper on her cheek The Rose did caper on her cheek Her Bodice rose and fell Her pretty speech like drunken men Did stagger pitiful Her fingers fumbled at her work Her needle would not go What ailed so smart a little Maid It puzzled me to know Till opposite I spied a cheek That bore another Rose Just […]...
22. No Sourdough To be a bony feed Sourdough You must, by Yukon Law, Have killed a moose, And robbed a sluice, AND BUNKED UP WITH A SQUAW. . . . Alas! Sourdough I’ll never be. Oh, sad is my excuse: My shooting’s so damn bad, you see. . . I’ve never killed a moose....
23. Sonnet XXVIII How can I then return in happy plight, That am debarr’d the benefit of rest? When day’s oppression is not eased by night, But day by night, and night by day, oppress’d? And each, though enemies to either’s reign, Do in consent shake hands to torture me; The one by toil, the other to complain […]...
24. True and False Comforts O God, whose favorable eye, The sin-sick soul revives, Holy and heavenly is the joy Thy shining presence gives. Not such as hypocrites suppose, Who with a graceless heart Taste not of Thee, but drink a dose, Prepared by Satan’s art. Intoxicating joys are theirs, Who while they boast their light, And seem to soar […]...
25. Hymn 107 The fall and recovery of man; or, Christ and Satan at enmity. Gen. 3:1,15,17; Gal. 4:4; Col. 2:15. Deceived by subtle snares of hell, Adam, our head, our father, fell; When Satan, in the serpent hid, Proposed the fruit that God forbid. Death was the threat’ning: death began To take possession of the man His […]...
26. Defamation Whey are those tears in your eyes, my child? How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing! You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing- Is that why they call you dirty? O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because It has smudged its face […]...
27. The Survivor I am twenty-four Led to slaughter I survived. The following are empty synonyms: Man and beast Love and hate Friend and foe Darkness and light. The way of killing men and beasts is the same I’ve seen it: Truckfuls of chopped-up men Who will not be saved. Ideas are mere words: Virtue and crime Truth […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. To Any Dead Officer Well, how are things in Heaven? I wish you’d say, Because I’d like to know that you’re all right. Tell me, have you found everlasting day, Or been sucked in by everlasting night? For when I shut my eyes your face shows plain; I hear you make some cheery old remark – I can rebuild […]...
30. The Three Roses When the buds began to burst, Long ago, with Rose the First I was walking; joyous then Far above all other men, Till before us up there stood Britonferry’s oaken wood, Whispering, “Happy as thou art, Happiness and thou must part.” Many summers have gone by Since a Second Rose and I (Rose from the […]...
31. Impromptu, to Lady Winchelsea In vain you boast Poetic Names of yore, And cite those Sapho’s we admire no more: Fate doom’d the Fall of ev’ry Female Wit, But doom’d it then when first Ardelia writ. Of all Examples by the World confest, I knew Ardelia could not quote the best; Who, like her Mistress on Britannia’s Throne; Fights, […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. Fletcher McGee She took my strength by the minutes, She took my life by hours, She drained me like a fevered moon That saps the spinning world. The days went by like shadows, The minutes wheeled like stars. She took the pity from my heart, And made it into smiles. She was a hunk of sculptor’s clay, […]...
34. 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....
35. An Old Story (Retold in Rhyme) They threw him in a prison cell; He moaned upon his bed. And when he crept from coils of hell: “Last night you killed,” they said. “last night in drunken rage you slew A being brave with breath; A radiant soul, because of you Lies dark in death.” “last night I killed,” […]...
36. MY PERFECT ROSE At ten she came to me, three years ago, There was ‘something between us’ even then; Watching her write like Eliot every day, Turn prose into haiku in ten minutes flat, Write a poem in Greek three weeks from learning the alphabet; Then translate it as ‘Sun on a tomb, gold place, small sacred horse’. […]...
37. Love and Friendship Love is like the wild rose-briar, Friendship like the holly-tree The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms But which will bloom most contantly? The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring, Its summer blossoms scent the air; Yet wait till winter comes again And who wil call the wild-briar fair? Then scorn the silly […]...
38. Hymn 34 part 2 None excluded from hope. Rom. 1:16; 1 Cor. 1:24. Jesus, thy blessings are not few, Nor is thy gospel weak; Thy grace can melt the stubborn Jew, And bow th’ aspiring Greek. Wide as the reach of Satan’s rage Doth thy salvation flow; ‘Tis not confined to sex or age, The lofty or the low. […]...
39. Goliath and David (For D. C. T., Killed at Fricourt, March, 1916) Yet once an earlier David took Smooth pebbles from the brook: Out between the lines he went To that one-sided tournament, A shepherd boy who stood out fine And young to fight a Philistine Clad all in brazen mail. He swears That he’s killed lions, he’s […]...
40. Style Flaubert wanted to write a novel About nothing. It was to have no subject And be sustained upon the style alone, Like the Holy Ghost cruising above The abyss, or like the little animals In Disney cartoons who stand upon a branch That breaks, but do not fall Till they look down. He never wrote […]...