Belfast Tune

Related poetry:

1. Timer The smell of ammonia in the entrance hall. The racing bike. The junk mail. The timer switch whose single naked bulb Allowed us as far as the first floor. The backs of your legs As you went ahead of me up the stairs. The landing where we paused for breath And impatient key searching. The […]...
2. Two Songs Rewritten For The Tune's Sake I My Paistin Finn is my sole desire, And I am shrunken to skin and bone, For all my heart has had for its hire Is what I can whistle alone and alone. Oro, oro! Tomorrow night I will break down the door. What is the good of a man and he Alone and alone, […]...
3. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
4. Identification In Belfast (I. R. A. Bombing) The British Army now carries two rifles, One with rubber rabbit-pellets for children, The other’s of course for the Provisionals…. ‘When they first showed me the boy, I thought oh good, It’s not him because he’s blonde- I imagine his hair was singed dark by the bomb. He had nothing on […]...
5. Split the Lark and you'll find the Music Split the Lark and you’ll find the Music Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled Scantilly dealt to the Summer Morning Saved for your Ear when Lutes be old. Loose the Flood you shall find it patent Gush after Gush, reserved for you Scarlet Experiment! Sceptic Thomas! Now, do you doubt that your Bird was true?...
6. Over and over, like a Tune Over and over, like a Tune The Recollection plays Drums off the Phantom Battlements Cornets of Paradise Snatches, from Baptized Generations Cadences too grand But for the Justified Processions At the Lord’s Right hand....
7. To the Tune Breeze soft, sun frail, spring still early. In a new lined dress my heart was refreshed, But when I rose from sleep I felt a chill. I put plum blossoms in my hair. Now they are withered. Where is my homeland? I forgot it only when drunk. The sandal wood incense burned out while I […]...
8. To the Tune of The fragrance of the pink lotus Fails, the jade mat hints of autumn. Softly I unfasten my silk cloak, Who is sending a letter from Among the clouds? When the swan message returns, The balcony is flooded with moonlight. The blossoms drift on, the water flows. There is the same yearning of the heart, But […]...
9. An Old Cracked Tune My name is Solomon Levi, The desert is my home, My mother’s breast was thorny, And father I had none. The sands whispered, Be separate, The stones taught me, Be hard. I dance, for the joy of surviving, On the edge of the road....
10. The Robin's my Criterion for Tune The Robin’s my Criterion for Tune Because I grow where Robins do But, were I Cuckoo born I’d swear by him The ode familiar rules the Noon The Buttercup’s, my Whim for Bloom Because, we’re Orchard sprung But, were I Britain born, I’d Daisies spurn None but the Nut October fit Because, through dropping it, […]...
11. Holy Sonnet V: I Am A Little World Made Cunningly I am a little world made cunningly Of elements, and an angelic sprite; But black sin hath betrayed to endless night My worlds both parts, and (oh!) both parts must die. You which beyond that heaven which was most high Have found new spheres, and of new lands can write, Pour new seas in mine […]...
12. The Things that never can come back, are several The Things that never can come back, are several Childhood some forms of Hope the Dead Though Joys like Men may sometimes make a Journey And still abide We do not mourn for Traveler, or Sailor, Their Routes are fair But think enlarged of all that they will tell us Returning here “Here!” There are […]...
13. Flight 93 I held the switch in trembling fingers, asked Why existence felt so small, so purposeless, Like a minnow wriggling feebly in my grasp… Vibrations of huge engines thrummed my arms As, glistening with sweat, I nudged the switch To OFF… I heard the klaxon-shrill alarms Like vultures’ shriekings… earthward, in a stall… We floated… earthward… […]...
14. I saw no Way The Heavens were stitched I saw no Way The Heavens were stitched I felt the Columns close The Earth reversed her Hemispheres I touched the Universe And back it slid and I alone A Speck upon a Ball Went out upon Circumference Beyond the Dip of Bell...
15. 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. […]...
16. Equanimity october stops the pretence That somehow summer Should still be loitering around It walks through the garden Hanging the spiders up Between fences and flowers It throws rather more dew On the ground than is Good for the shoes and then Has the nerve to let on Frost is sniffing its way Southwards – some […]...
17. The Crickets sang The Crickets sang And set the Sun And Workmen finished one by one Their Seam the Day upon. The low Grass loaded with the Dew The Twilight stood, as Strangers do With Hat in Hand, polite and new To stay as if, or go. A Vastness, as a Neighbor, came, A Wisdom, without Face, or […]...
18. Our Hills Dear Mother-Earth Of Titan birth, Yon hills are your large breasts, and often I Have climbed to their top-nipples, fain and dry To drink my mother’s-milk so near the sky. O ye hill-stains, Red, for all rains! The blood that made you has all bled for us, The hearts that paid you are all dead […]...
19. Flounder Here, she said, put this on your head. She handed me a hat. You ’bout as white as your dad, And you gone stay like that. Aunt Sugar rolled her nylons down Around each bony ankle, And I rolled down my white knee socks Letting my thin legs dangle, Circling them just above water And […]...
20. Dead Men's Love There was a damned successful Poet; There was a Woman like the Sun. And they were dead. They did not know it. They did not know their time was done. They did not know his hymns Were silence; and her limbs, That had served Love so well, Dust, and a filthy smell. And so one […]...
21. Horses and Men in Rain LET us sit by a hissing steam radiator a winter’s day, gray wind pattering frozen raindrops on the window, And let us talk about milk wagon drivers and grocery delivery boys. Let us keep our feet in wool slippers and mix hot punches-and talk about mail carriers and messenger boys slipping along the icy sidewalks. […]...
22. A Dying Tiger moaned for Drink A Dying Tiger moaned for Drink I hunted all the Sand I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand His Mighty Balls in death were thick But searching I could see A Vision on the Retina Of Water and of me ‘Twas not my blame who sped too slow ‘Twas […]...
23. My Cross I wrote a poem to the moon But no one noticed it; Although I hoped that late or soon Someone would praise a bit Its purity and grace forlone, Its beauty tulip-cool… But as my poem died still-born, I felt a fool. I wrote a verse of vulgar trend Spiced with an oath or two; […]...
24. After Years Today, from a distance, I saw you Walking away, and without a sound The glittering face of a glacier Slid into the sea. An ancient oak Fell in the Cumberlands, holding only A handful of leaves, and an old woman Scattering corn to her chickens looked up For an instant. At the other side Of […]...
25. I Sit By The Window I said fate plays a game without a score, And who needs fish if you’ve got caviar? The triumph of the Gothic style would come to pass And turn you on no need for coke, or grass. I sit by the window. Outside, an aspen. When I loved, I loved deeply. It wasn’t often. I […]...
26. Sonnet 86: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all-too-precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither he, nor […]...
27. Sonnet LXXXVI Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew? Was it his spirit, by spirits taught to write Above a mortal pitch, that struck me dead? No, neither […]...
28. Sonnet XIII: Letters and Lines To the Shadow Letters and lines we see are soon defac’d, Metals do waste and fret with canker’s rust, The diamond shall once consume to dust, And freshest colors with foul stains disgrac’d; Paper and ink can paint but naked words, To write with blood of force offends the sight; And if with tears I […]...
29. The river at whitebrook the winding wye Curls into my senses Feliniously There’s no such word But no such river Merely exists Where this river slivers Between the dream And the time i camped by it Has left a furmark On my inward skin It takes only a wet thought For hunchbacked woods And a drift of mist Lifting […]...
30. The Sunrise runs for Both The Sunrise runs for Both The East Her Purple Troth Keeps with the Hill The Noon unwinds Her Blue Till One Breadth cover Two Remotest still Nor does the Night forget A Lamp for Each to set Wicks wide away The North Her blazing Sign Erects in Iodine Till Both can see The Midnight’s Dusky […]...
31. So from the mould So from the mould Scarlet and Gold Many a Bulb will rise Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes. So from Cocoon Many a Worm Leap so Highland gay, Peasants like me, Peasants like Thee Gaze perplexedly!...
32. "Ave Ceasar&quot Long ago the Gladiators, When the call to combat came, Marching past the massed spectators, Hailed the Emp’ror with acclaim! Voices ringing with the fury Of the strife so soon to be, Cried, “O Caesar, morituri Salutamus te!” Nowadays the massed spectators See the unaccustomed sight Legislative gladiators Marching to their last great fight; Young […]...
33. Knee Song Being kissed on the back Of the knee is a moth At the windowscreen and Yes my darling a dot On the fathometer is Tinkerbelle with her cough And twice I will give up my Honor and stars will stick Like tacks in the night Yes oh yes yes yes two Little snails at the […]...
34. And do you think that love itself And do you think that love itself, Living in such an ugly house, Can prosper long? We meet and part; Our talk is all of heres and nows, Our conduct likewise; in no act Is any future, any past; Under our sly, unspoken pact, I KNOW with whom I saw you last, But I say […]...
35. The Ballad Of The Northern Lights One of the Down and Out that’s me. Stare at me well, ay, stare! Stare and shrink say! you wouldn’t think that I was a millionaire. Look at my face, it’s crimped and gouged one of them death-mask things; Don’t seem the sort of man, do I, as might be the pal of kings? Slouching […]...
36. Simple pleasures that you bring Do you mind if I write a few lines for you tonight? I’m fuelled for sure, perhaps a bit ebullient, (now there’s a rhyme that will be hard to find A word to suit!) I’ll try, but time will surely take A pensive break and provide a chance to make A consequence. Am I afraid […]...
37. 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 […]...
38. Leisure What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full […]...
39. A Suggestion As I go and shop, sir! If a car I stop, sir! Where you chance to sit, And you want to read, sir! Never mind or heed, sir! I’ll not care a bit. For it’s now aesthetic To be quite athletic. That’s our fad, you know. I can hold the strap, sir! And keep off […]...
40. Obsessive Combination Of Onotological Inscape, Trickery And Love Busy, with an idea for a code, I write Signals hurrying from left to right, Or right to left, by obscure routes, For my own reasons; taking a word like writes Down tiers of tries until its secret rites Make sense; or until, suddenly, RATS Can amazingly and funnily become STAR And right to left […]...