Field Thistle

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1. The White Lady I cannot rest, I cannot rest In straight and shiny wood, My woven hands upon my breast The dead are all so good! The earth is cool across their eyes; They lie there quietly. But I am neither old nor wise; They do not welcome me. Where never I walked alone before, I wander in […]...
2. The Desolate Field Vast and grey, the sky Is a simulacrum To all but him whose days Are vast and grey and- In the tall, dried grasses A goat stirs With nozzle searching the ground. My head is in the air But who am I. . . ? -and my heart stops amazed At the thought of love […]...
3. The Field of Glory War shook the land where Levi dwelt, And fired the dismal wrath he felt, That such a doom was ever wrought As his, to toil while others fought; To toil, to dream and still to dream, With one day barren as another; To consummate, as it would seem The dry despair of his old mother. […]...
4. In Flanders Field In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie, In […]...
5. Companioned I walked to-day, but not alone, Adown a windy, sea-girt lea, For memory, spendthrift of her charm, Peopled the silent lands for me. The faces of old comradeship In golden youth were round my way, And in the keening wind I heard The songs of many an orient day. And to me called, from out […]...
6. Forget Not the Field Forget not the field where they perish’d, The truest, the last of the brave, All gone and the bright hope we cherish’d Gone with them, and quench’d in their grave! Oh! could we from death but recover Those hearts as they bounded before, In the face of high heaven to fight over That combat for […]...
7. Winter in Durnover Field Scene. A wide stretch of fallow ground recently sown with wheat, and Frozen to iron hardness. Three large birds walking about thereon, And wistfully eyeing the surface. Wind keen from north-east: sky a Dull grey. (Triolet) Rook. Throughout the field I find no grain; The cruel frost encrusts the cornland! Starling. Aye: patient pecking now […]...
8. The Far Field I I dream of journeys repeatedly: Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel Of driving alone, without luggage, out a long peninsula, The road lined with snow-laden second growth, A fine dry snow ticking the windshield, Alternate snow and sleet, no on-coming traffic, And no lights behind, in the blurred side-mirror, The […]...
9. The Convert After one moment when I bowed my head And the whole world turned over and came upright, And I came out where the old road shone white, I walked the ways and heard what all men said, Forests of tongues, like autumn leaves unshed, Being not unlovable but strange and light; Old riddles and new […]...
10. Making The Lion For All It's Got A Ballad I came home and found a lion in my room… [First draft of “The Lion for Real” CP 174-175] A lion met America In the road They stared at each other Two figures on the crossroads in the desert. America screamed The lion roared They leaped at each other America desperate to win Fighting with […]...
11. Watching the Needleboats at San Sabba I heard their young hearts crying Loveward above the glancing oar And heard the prairie grasses sighing: No more, return no more! O hearts, O sighing grasses, Vainly your loveblown bannerets mourn! No more will the wild wind that passes Return, no more return....
12. On the Field of Kulicovo The river stretched. It flows, idly grieves, And washes both banks. In steppe, above light clay of cliffs Rinks mourn in ranks. O Russia! Dear wife! With clearness and pain We see the lengthy way! It sent an arrow of ancient Tartar reign – In breast it lay. The way through steppes and an incessant […]...
13. Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field VIGIL strange I kept on the field one night: When you, my son and my comrade, dropt at my side that day, One look I but gave, which your dear eyes return’d, with a look I shall never forget; One touch of your hand to mine, O boy, reach’d up as you lay on the […]...
14. The Firebombers We are America. We are the coffin fillers. We are the grocers of death. We pack them in crates like cauliflowers. The bomb opens like a shoebox. And the child? The child is certainly not yawning. And the woman? The woman is bathing her heart. It has been torn out of her And as a […]...
15. As Consequent, Etc AS consequent from store of summer rains, Or wayward rivulets in autumn flowing, Or many a herb-lined brook’s reticulations, Or subterranean sea-rills making for the sea, Songs of continued years I sing. Life’s ever-modern rapids first, (soon, soon to blend, With the old streams of death.) Some threading Ohio’s farm-fields or the woods, Some down […]...
16. Quarantine In the worst hour of the worst season of the worst year of a whole people A man set out from the workhouse with his wife. He was walking-they were both walking-north. She was sick with famine fever and could not keep up. He lifted her and put her on his back. He walked like […]...
17. The Battle of Flodden Field ‘Twas on the 9th of September, a very beautiful day, That a numerous English army came in grand array, And pitched their tents on Flodden field so green In the year of our Lord fifteen hundred and thirteen. And on the ridge of Braxton hill the Scottish army lay, All beautifully arrayed, and eager for […]...
18. Cut While Shaving It’s never quite right, he said, the way people look, The way the music sounds, the way the words are Written. It’s never quite right, he said, all the things we are Taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we Die, all the lives we live, They are never quite right, They are […]...
19. The Greatest Thing In North America This is the greatest thing in North America: Europe is the greatest thing in North America! High in the sky, dark in the heart, and always there Among the natural powers of sunlight and of air, Changing, second by second, shifting and changing the light, Bring fresh rain to the stone of the library steps. […]...
20. Let America Be America Again Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed Let it be that great strong land of love Where never […]...
21. A City's Death By Fire After that hot gospeller has levelled all but the churched sky, I wrote the tale by tallow of a city’s death by fire; Under a candle’s eye, that smoked in tears, I Wanted to tell, in more than wax, of faiths that were snapped like wire. All day I walked abroad among the rubbled tales, […]...
22. Along the field as we came by ALONG the field as we came by A year ago, my love and I, The aspen over stile and stone Was talking to itself alone. ‘Oh who are these that kiss and pass? A country lover and his lass; Two lovers looking to be wed; And time shall put them both to bed, But she […]...
23. Easter Bring flowers to strew His way, Yea, sing, make holiday; Bid young lambs leap, And earth laugh after sleep. For now He cometh forth Winter flies to the north, Folds wings and cries Amid the bergs and ice. Yea, Death, great Death is dead, And Life reigns in his stead; Cometh the Athlete New from […]...
24. Having Lost My Sons, I Confront The Wreckage Of The Moon: Christmas, 1960 After dark Near the South Dakota border, The moon is out hunting, everywhere, Delivering fire, And walking down hallways Of a diamond. Behind a tree, It ights on the ruins Of a white city Frost, frost. Where are they gone Who lived there? Bundled away under wings And dark faces. I am sick Of it, […]...
25. 315. Song-Out over the Forth OUT over the Forth, I look to the North; But what is the north and its Highlands to me? The south nor the east gie ease to my breast, The far foreign land, or the wide rolling sea. But I look to the west when I gae to rest, That happy my dreams and my […]...
26. In The Poppy Field Mad Patsy said, he said to me, That every morning he could see An angel walking on the sky; Across the sunny skies of morn He threw great handfuls far and nigh Of poppy seed among the corn; And then, he said, the angels run To see the poppies in the sun. A poppy is […]...
27. The Field Daisy I’m a pretty little thing, Always coming with the spring; In the meadows green I’m found, Peeping just above the ground, And my stalk is cover’d flat With a white and yellow hat. Little Mary, when you pass Lightly o’er the tender grass, Skip about, but do not tread On my bright but lowly head, […]...
28. If anybody's friend be dead If anybody’s friend be dead It’s sharpest of the theme The thinking how they walked alive At such and such a time Their costume, of a Sunday, Some manner of the Hair A prank nobody knew but them Lost, in the Sepulchre How warm, they were, on such a day, You almost feel the date […]...
29. The Poplar Field The poplars are felled, farewell to the shade And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade: The winds play no longer and sing in the leaves, Nor Ouse on his bosom their image receives. Twelve years have elapsed since I first took a view Of my favourite field, and the bank where they grew, And […]...
30. The Fabulists When all the world would keep a matter hid, Since Truth is seldom Friend to any crowd, Men write in Fable, as old AEsop did, Jesting at that which none will name aloud. And this they needs must do, or it will fall Unless they please they are not heard at all. When desperate Folly […]...
31. America America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing. America two dollars and twentyseven cents January 17, 1956. I can’t stand my own mind. America when will we end the human war? Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb. I don’t feel good don’t bother me. I won’t write my poem till I’m in my […]...
32. Murmurings in a field hospital [They picked him up in the grass where he had lain two Days in the rain with a piece of shrapnel in his lungs.] COME to me only with playthings now. . . A picture of a singing woman with blue eyes Standing at a fence of hollyhocks, poppies and sunflowers. . . Or an […]...
33. A Field of Stubble, lying sere A Field of Stubble, lying sere Beneath the second Sun Its Toils to Brindled People thrust Its Triumphs to the Bin Accosted by a timid Bird Irresolute of Alms Is often seen but seldom felt, On our New England Farms...
34. Cantico del Sole The thought of what America would be like If the Classics had a wide circulation Troubles my sleep, The thought of what America, The thought of what America, The thought of what America would be like If the Classics had a wide circulation Troubles my sleep. Nunc dimittis, now lettest thou thy servant, Now lettest […]...
35. The Egg-Shell The wind took off with the sunset The fog came up with the tide, When the Witch of the North took an Egg-shell With a little Blue Devil inside. “Sink,” she said, “or swim,” she said, “It’s all you will bet from me. And that is the finish of him!” she said And the Egg-shell […]...
36. Weeds FROM the time of the early radishes To the time of the standing corn Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes. There are laws in the village against weeds. The law says a weed is wrong and shall be killed. The weeds say life is a white and lovely thing And the weeds come on and on in […]...
37. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
38. Nocturne III One night One night all full of murmurings, of perfumes and music of wings; One night In which fantastic fireflies burnt in the humid nuptial shadows, Slowly by my side, pressed altogether close, silent and pale, As if a presentiment of infinite bitternesses Agitated you unto the most hidden fibers of your being, Along the […]...
39. A Supermarket In California What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whit – Man, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees With a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon. In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of Your enumerations! What peaches and what penumbras! Whole fam […]...
40. 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 […]...