GRANDAD AND A PRAMLOAD OF CLOCKS

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1. A Scrap of Paper “Will you go to war just for a scrap of paper?” Question Of the German Chancellor to the British Ambassador, August 5, 1914. A mocking question! Britain’s answer came Swift as the light and searching as the flame. “Yes, for a scrap of paper we will fight Till our last breath, and God defend the […]...
2. Alarm Clocks When Dawn strides out to wake a dewy farm Across green fields and yellow hills of hay The little twittering birds laugh in his way And poise triumphant on his shining arm. He bears a sword of flame but not to harm The wakened life that feels his quickening sway And barnyard voices shrilling “It […]...
3. Grandad Heaven’s mighty sweet, I guess; Ain’t no rush to git there: Been a sinner, more or less; Maybe wouldn’t fit there. Wicked still, bound to confess; Might jest pine a bit there. Heaven’s swell, the preachers say: Got so used to earth here; Had such good times all the way, Frolic, fun and mirth here; […]...
4. Clocks HERE is a face that says half-past seven the same way whether a murder or a wedding goes on, whether a funeral or a picnic crowd passes. A tall one I know at the end of a hallway broods in shadows and is watching booze eat out the insides of the man of the house; […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. Boot And Saddle Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Rescue my Castle, before the hot day Brightens the blue from its silvery grey, (Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!” Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you’d say; Many’s the friend there, will listen and pray “God’s luck to gallants that strike up the lay, (Chorus) “Boot, saddle, […]...
7. The Unheeded Pageant Ah, who was it coloured that little frock, my child, and covered Your sweet limbs with that little red tunic? You have come out in the morning to play in the courtyard, Tottering and tumbling as you run. But who was it coloured that little frock, my child? What is it makes you laugh, my […]...
8. Real Estate News ARMOUR AVENUE was the name of this street and door signs on empty houses read “The Silver Dollar,” “Swede Annie” and the Christian names of madams such as “Myrtle” and “Jenny.” Scrap iron, rags and bottles fill the front rooms hither and yon and signs in Yiddish say Abe Kaplan & Co. are running junk […]...
9. Or from that Sea of Time 1 OR, from that Sea of Time, Spray, blown by the wind-a double winrow-drift of weeds and shells; (O little shells, so curious-convolute! so limpid-cold and voiceless! Yet will you not, to the tympans of temples held, Murmurs and echoes still bring up-Eternity’s music, faint and far, Wafted inland, sent from Atlantica’s rim-strains for the […]...
10. The Revelation The same old sprint in the morning, boys, to the same old din and smut; Chained all day to the same old desk, down in the same old rut; Posting the same old greasy books, catching the same old train: Oh, how will I manage to stick it all, if I ever get back again? […]...
11. As Much As You Can Even if you cannot shape your life as you want it, At least try this As much as you can; do not debase it In excessive contact with the world, In the excessive movements and talk. Do not debase it by taking it, Dragging it often and exposing it To the daily folly Of relationships […]...
12. Study Somewhere the long mellow note of the blackbird Quickens the unclasping hands of hazel, Somewhere the wind-flowers fling their heads back, Stirred by an impetuous wind. Some ways’ll All be sweet with white and blue violet. (Hush now, hush. Where am I?-Biuret-) On the green wood’s edge a shy girl hovers From out of the […]...
13. By the Pool of the Third Rosses I heard the sighing of the reed In the grey pool in the green land, The sea-wind in the long reeds sighing Between the green hill and the sand. I heard the sighing of the reeds Day after day, night after night; I heard the whirring wild ducks flying, I saw the sea-gull’s wheeling flight. […]...
14. Barnacles My soul is sailing through the sea, But the Past is heavy and hindereth me. The Past hath crusted cumbrous shells That hold the flesh of cold sea-mells About my soul. The huge waves wash, the high waves roll, Each barnacle clingeth and worketh dole And hindereth me from sailing! Old Past let go, and […]...
15. A Bay In Anglesey The sleepy sound of a tea-time tide Slaps at the rocks the sun has dried, Too lazy, almost, to sink and lift Round low peninsulas pink with thrift. The water, enlarging shells and sand, Grows greener emerald out from land And brown over shadowy shelves below The waving forests of seaweed show. Here at my […]...
16. Easter, 1916 I have met them at close of day Coming with vivid faces From counter or desk among grey Eighteenth-century houses. I have passed with a nod of the head Or polite meaningless words, Or have lingered awhile and said Polite meaningless words, And thought before I had done Of a mocking tale or a gibe […]...
17. Thompson's Lunch Room Grand Central Station Study in Whites Wax-white Floor, ceiling, walls. Ivory shadows Over the pavement Polished to cream surfaces By constant sweeping. The big room is coloured like the petals Of a great magnolia, And has a patina Of flower bloom Which makes it shine dimly Under the electric lamps. Chairs are ranged in rows Like sepia seeds […]...
18. Young Bullfrogs JIMMY WIMBLETON listened a first week in June. Ditches along prairie roads of Northern Illinois Filled the arch of night with young bullfrog songs. Infinite mathematical metronomic croaks rose and spoke, Rose and sang, rose in a choir of puzzles. They made his head ache with riddles of music. They rested his head with beaten […]...
19. The Bush Girl So you rode from the range where your brothers “select,” Through the ghostly grey bush in the dawn – You rode slowly at first, lest her heart should suspect That you were glad to be gone; You had scarcely the courage to glance back at her By the homestead receding from view, And you breathed […]...
20. William Jones Once in a while a curious weed unknown to me, Needing a name from my books; Once in a while a letter from Yeomans. Out of the mussel-shells gathered along the shore Sometimes a pearl with a glint like meadow rue: Then betimes a letter from Tyndall in England, Stamped with the stamp of Spoon […]...
21. Exiled Searching my heart for its true sorrow, This is the thing I find to be: That I am weary of words and people, Sick of the city, wanting the sea; Wanting the sticky, salty sweetness Of the strong wind and shattered spray; Wanting the loud sound and the soft sound Of the big surf that […]...
22. West Riding Bright sari in a darkened street – The lilting grey of Yorkshire sky; Rust requiems for demolished mills – Repeating grooves of curlew’s cry. And did Jane once sit on this stile And watch the moon look down on Hay, And see the dog and hear the horse Send icy clatters through the grey? Then […]...
23. The Judge is like the Owl The Judge is like the Owl I’ve heard my Father tell And Owls do build in Oaks So here’s an Amber Sill That slanted in my Path When going to the Barn And if it serve You for a House Itself is not in vain About the price ’tis small I only ask a Tune […]...
24. The Songs of the Lathes 1918Being the Words of the Tune Hummed at Her Lathe by Mrs. L. Embsay, Widow The fans and the beltings they roar round me. The power is shaking the floor round me Till the lathes pick up their duty and the midnight-shift takes over. It is good for me to be here! Guns in Flanders […]...
25. That sacred Closet when you sweep That sacred Closet when you sweep Entitled “Memory” Select a reverential Broom And do it silently. ‘Twill be a Labor of surprise Besides Identity Of other Interlocutors A probability August the Dust of that Domain Unchallenged let it lie You cannot supersede itself But it can silence you...
26. Number 20 The pennycandystore beyond the El Is where I first fell in love with unreality Jellybeans glowed in the semi-gloom Of that september afternoon A cat upon the counter moved among the licorice sticks and tootsie rolls and Oh Boy Gum Outside the leaves were falling as they died A wind had blown away the sun […]...
27. Sea Poppies Amber husk Fluted with gold, Fruit on the sand Marked with a rich grain, Treasure Spilled near the shrub-pines To bleach on the boulders: Your stalk has caught root Among wet pebbles And drift flung by the sea And grated shells And split conch-shells. Beautiful, wide-spread, Fire upon leaf, What meadow yields So fragrant a […]...
28. Balbus I’ll tell you the story of Balbus, You know, him as builded a wall; I’ll tell you the reason he built it, And the place where it happened an’ all. This ‘ere Balbus, though only a Tackler, Were the most enterprising of men; He’d heard Chicken Farms were lucrative, So he went out and purchased […]...
29. In the Droving Days “Only a pound,” said the auctioneer, “Only a pound; and I’m standing here Selling this animal, gain or loss Only a pound for the drover’s horse? One of the sort that was ne’er afraid, One of the boys of the Old Brigade; Thoroughly honest and game, I’ll swear, Only a little the worse for wear; […]...
30. Cavalier Tunes: Boot and Saddle Boot, saddle, to horse and away! Rescue my Castle, before the hot day Brightens to blue from its silvery gray, (Chorus) Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you’d say; Many’s the friend there, will listen and pray “God’s luck to gallants that strike up the lay (Chorus) Boot, saddle, […]...
31. Girl (three) and the black horse i want to hold the horse’s string Cried the girl (three) stamping her foot Told by adults she was much too young The black horse stood staring at the wall It worries us you may get hurt The adults whispered – meaning to offer Comfort to the little madam (not convinced) The black horse stood […]...
32. From The Long Sad Party Someone was saying Something about shadows covering the field, about How things pass, how one sleeps towards morning And the morning goes. Someone was saying How the wind dies down but comes back, How shells are the coffins of wind But the weather continues. It was a long night And someone said something about the […]...
33. The Final Poem A forge burns in my heart. I am redder than dawn, Deeper than seaweed, More distant than gulls, More hollow than wells. But I only give birth To seeds and to shells. My tongue becomes tangled in words: I no longer speak white, Nor utter black, Nor whisper gray of a wind-worn cliff, Barely do […]...
34. Cats Cats no less liquid than their shadows Offer no angles to the wind. They slip, diminished, neat through loopholes Less than themselves; will not be pinned To rules or routes for journeys; counter Attack with non-resistance; twist Enticing through the curving fingers And leave an angered empty fist. They wait obsequious as darkness Quick to […]...
35. Variations of an Air Old King Cole Was a merry old soul And a merry old soul was he He called for his pipe And he called for his bowl And he called for his fiddlers three After Lord Tennyson Cole, that unwearied prince of Colchester, Growing more gay with age and with long days Deeper in laughter and […]...
36. The Return See, they return; ah, see the tentative Movements, and the slow feet, The trouble in the pace and the uncertain Wavering! See, they return, one, and by one, With fear, as half-awakened; As if the snow should hesitate And murmur in the wind, and half turn back; These were the “Wing’d-with-Awe,” Inviolable. Gods of the […]...
37. Unfortunate Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap That’s tossed down dusty pavements by the wind; Saying, “She is most wise, patient and kind. Between the small hands folded in her lap Surely a shamed head may bow down at length, And find forgiveness where the shadows stir About her lips, and wisdom in her […]...
38. Retired Shopman He had the grocer’s counter-stoop, That little man so grey and neat; His moustache had a doleful droop, He hailed me in the slushy street. “I’ve sold my shop,” he said to me, Cupping his hand behind his ear. “My deafness got so bad, you see, Folks had to shout to make me hear.” He […]...
39. Nature's Touch In kindergarten classed Dislike they knew; And as the years went past It grew and grew; Until in maidenhood Each sought a mate, Then venom in their mood Was almost hate. The lure of love they learned And they were wed; Yet when they met each turned Away a head; Each went her waspish way […]...
40. LIFE IS THE BODY'S LIGHT Life is the body’s light; which, once declining, Those crimson clouds i’ th’ cheeks and lips leave shining:- Those counter-changed tabbies in the air, The sun once set, all of one colour are: So, when death comes, fresh tinctures lose their place, And dismal darkness then doth smutch the face....