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1. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
2. Sandpipers Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles-they write in the morning, it is gone at noon-they write at noon, it is gone at night. Pity the land, the sea, the ten mile flats, pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and […]...
3. The Mortal One Three months after he lies dead, that Long yellow narrow body, Not like Christ but like one of his saints, The naked ones in the paintings whose bodies are Done in gilt, all knees and raw ribs, The ones who died of nettles, bile, the One who died roasted over a slow fire- Three months […]...
4. Dinner at the Who's Who amidst swirling wine And flickers of silver guests quote Dante, Brecht, Kant and each other. I wait in the hall after not Powdering my nose, trying to re- Compose that woman who’ll graciously take her place At the table and won’t tell her hosts: I looked into your bedroom and closets, smelled your “Obsession” and […]...
5. Sleeping Together Sleeping together… how tired you were… How warm our room… how the firelight spread On walls and ceiling and great white bed! We spoke in whispers as children do, And now it was I and then it was you Slept a moment, to wake “My dear, I’m not at all sleepy,” one of us said…. […]...
6. Occupational Hazard He has slept with accountants and brokers, With a cowgirl (well, someone from Healds). He has slept with non-smokers and smokers In commercial and cultural fields. He has slept with book-keepers, book-binders, Slept with auditors, florists, PAs Child psychologists, even child minders, With directors of firms and of plays. He has slept with the stupid […]...
7. A full fed Rose on meals of Tint A full fed Rose on meals of Tint A Dinner for a Bee In process of the Noon became – Each bright Mortality The Forfeit is of Creature fair Itself, adored before Submitting for our unknown sake To be esteemed no more...
8. The Colonel What you have heard is true. I was in his house. His wife carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His Daughter filed her nails, his son went out for the Night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol On the cushion beside him. The moon swung bare on Its black cord over the […]...
9. For A Thirteenth Birthday You have read War and Peace. Now here is Sister Carrie, Not up to Tolstoy; still It will second the real world: Predictable planes and levels, Pavement that holds you, Stairs that lift you, Ice that trips you, Nights that begin after sunset, Four lunar phases, A finite house. I give you Dreiser Although (or […]...
10. 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’. […]...
11. All Night All night the knot in the shoelace Waits for its liberation, And the match on the table packs its head With anticipation of light. The faucet sweats out a bead of water, Which gathers strength for the free fall, While the lettuce in the refrigerator Succumbs to its brown killer. And in the novel I […]...
12. The Bankrupt Peace-Maker I opened the ink-well and smoke filled the room. The smoke formed the giant frog-cat of my doom. His web feet left dreadful slime tracks on the floor. He had hammer and nails that he laid by the door. He sprawled on the table, claw-hands in my hair. He looked through my heart to the […]...
13. John Horace Burleson I won the prize essay at school Here in the village, And published a novel before I was twenty-five. I went to the city for themes and to enrich my art; There married the banker’s daughter, And later became president of the bank- Always looking forward to some leisure To write an epic novel of […]...
14. I had been hungry, all the Years I had been hungry, all the Years My Noon had Come to dine I trembling drew the Table near And touched the Curious Wine ‘Twas this on Tables I had seen When turning, hungry, Home I looked in Windows, for the Wealth I could not hope for Mine I did not know the ample Bread […]...
15. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour Give me a golden pen, and let me lean On heaped-up flowers, in regions clear, and far; Bring me a tablet whiter than a star, Or hand of hymning angel, when ’tis seen The silver strings of heavenly harp atween: And let there glide by many a pearly car Pink robes, and wavy hair, and […]...
16. A Noon Song There are songs for the morning and songs for the night, For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon; But who will give praise to the fulness of light, And sing us a song of the glory of noon? Oh, the high noon, the clear noon, The noon with golden crest; When the blue […]...
17. Autumn Perspective Now, moving in, cartons on the floor, The radio playing to bare walls, Picture hooks left stranded In the unsoiled squares where paintings were, And something reminding us This is like all other moving days; Finding the dirty ends of someone else’s life, Hair fallen in the sink, a peach pit, And burned-out matches in […]...
18. Pauline Barrett Almost the shell of a woman after the surgeon’s knife! And almost a year to creep back into strength, Till the dawn of our wedding decennial Found me my seeming self again. We walked the forest together, By a path of soundless moss and turf. But I could not look in your eyes, And you […]...
19. The happy household It’s when the birds go piping and the daylight slowly breaks, That, clamoring for his dinner, our precious baby wakes; Then it’s sleep no more for baby, and it’s sleep no more for me, For, when he wants his dinner, why it’s dinner it must be! And of that lacteal fluid he partakes with great […]...
20. The Little Box The little box gets her first teeth And her little length Little width little emptiness And all the rest she has The little box continues growing The cupboard that she was inside Is now inside her And she grows bigger bigger bigger Now the room is inside her And the house and the city and […]...
21. Portrait of a Baby He lay within a warm, soft world Of motion. Colors bloomed and fled, Maroon and turquoise, saffron, red, Wave upon wave that broke and whirled To vanish in the grey-green gloom, Perspectiveless and shadowy. A bulging world that had no walls, A flowing world, most like the sea, Compassing all infinity Within a shapeless, ebbing […]...
22. Minnie and Winnie Minnie and Winnie Slept in a shell. Sleep, little ladies! And they slept well. Pink was the shell within, Silver without; Sounds of the great sea Wander’d about. Sleep, little ladies! Wake not soon! Echo on echo Dies to the moon. Two bright stars Peep’d into the shell. “What are you dreaming of? Who can […]...
23. Charm, The In darkness the loud sea makes moan; And earth is shaken, and all evils creep About her ways. Oh, now to know you sleep! Out of the whirling blinding moil, alone, Out of the slow grim fight, One thought to wing to you, asleep, In some cool room that’s open to the night Lying half-forward, […]...
24. The House Of Dust: Part 02: 08: The Box With Silver Handles Well,-it was two days after my husband died- Two days! And the earth still raw above him. And I was sweeping the carpet in their hall. In number four-the room with the red wall-paper- Some chorus girls and men were singing that song ‘They’ll soon be lighting candles Round a box with silver handles’-and hearing […]...
25. Silver Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers, and sees Silver fruit upon silver trees; One by one the casements catch Her beams beneath the silvery thatch; Couched in his kennel, like a log, With paws of silver sleeps the dog; From their shadowy cote […]...
26. Variation On A Theme By Rilke A certain day became a presence to me; There it was, confronting me a sky, air, light: A being. And before it started to descend From the height of noon, it leaned over And struck my shoulder as if with The flat of a sword, granting me Honor and a task. The day’s blow Rang […]...
27. The Tragedy Oh, I never felt so wretched, and things never looked so blue Since the days I gulped the physic that my Granny used to brew; For a friend in whom I trusted, entering my room last night, Stole a bottleful of Heenzo from the desk whereon I write. I am certain sure he did it […]...
28. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
29. Captain Stratton's Fancy OH some are fond of red wine, and some are fond of white, And some are all for dancing by the pale moonlight; But rum alone’s the tipple, and the heart’s delight Of the old bold mate of Henry Morgan. Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French, And some’ll […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. Those Dancing Days Are Gone Come, let me sing into your ear; Those dancing days are gone, All that silk and satin gear; Crouch upon a stone, Wrapping that foul body up In as foul a rag: I carry the sun in a golden cup. The moon in a silver bag. Curse as you may I sing it through; What […]...
32. The Noon Hour SHE sits in the dust at the walls And makes cigars, Bending at the bench With fingers wage-anxious, Changing her sweat for the day’s pay. Now the noon hour has come, And she leans with her bare arms On the window-sill over the river, Leans and feels at her throat Cool-moving things out of the […]...
33. Autumn Song Now’s the time when children’s noses All become as red as roses And the colour of their faces Makes me think of orchard places Where the juicy apples grow, And tomatoes in a row. And to-day the hardened sinner Never could be late for dinner, But will jump up to the table Just as soon […]...
34. Stans Puer ad Mensam Attend my words, my gentle knave, And you shall learn from me How boys at dinner may behave With due propriety. Guard well your hands: two things have been Unfitly used by some; The trencher for a tambourine, The table for a drum. We could not lead a pleasant life, And ‘twould be finished soon, […]...
35. The house where I was born (01) I woke up, it was the house where I was born, Sea foam splashed against the rock, Not a single bird, only the wind to open and close the wave, Everywhere on the horizon the smell of ashes, As if the hills were hiding a fire That somewhere else was burning up a universe. I […]...
36. Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall Oh down at the tavern The children are singing Around their round table And around me still. Did you hear what it said? I only said How there is a pewter urn Pinned to the tavern wall, As old as old is able To be and be there still. I said, the poets are tere […]...
37. Possibilities Ay, lay him ‘neath the Simla pine A fortnight fully to be missed, Behold, we lose our fourth at whist, A chair is vacant where we dine. His place forgets him; other men Have bought his ponies, guns, and traps. His fortune is the Great Perhaps And that cool rest-house down the glen, Whence he […]...
38. THE FOX AND CRANE ONCE two persons uninvited Came to join my dinner table; For the nonce they lived united, Fox and crane yclept in fable. Civil greetings pass’d between us Then I pluck’d some pigeons tender For the fox of jackal-genius, Adding grapes in full-grown splendour. Long-neck’d flasks I put as dishes For the crane, without delaying, Fill’d […]...
39. The room you know how it is with the room The door is frequently locked As i pass a white sigh Is pushed out from under As i bend to retrieve it The wood quivers with a woman’s breath There is a ruffle of crying Through the keyhole i am able To glimpse a red dress Clawing […]...
40. The House This poem has a door, a locked door, And curtains drawn against the day, But at night the lights come on, one In each room, and the neighbors swear They hear music and the sound of dancing. These days the neighbors will swear To anything, but that is not why The house is locked up […]...