Curriculum Vitae

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1. Curriculum Vitae As though it were reluctant to be day, …….Morning deploys a scale …….Of rarities in gray, And winter settles down in its chain-mail, Victorious over legions of gold and red. ……The smokey souls of stones, ……Blunt pencillings of lead, Pare down the world to glintless monotones Of graveyard weather, vapors of a fen …….We reckon […]...
2. As The Poems Go as the poems go into the thousands you Realize that you’ve created very Little. It comes down to the rain, the sunlight, The traffic, the nights and the days of the Years, the faces. Leaving this will be easier than living It, typing one more line now as A man plays a piano through the […]...
3. My Twins Of twin daughters I’m the mother – Lord! how I was proud of them; Each the image of the other, Like two lilies on one stem; But while May, my first-born daughter, Was angelic from the first, Different as wine and water, Maude, my second, seemed accurst. I’m a tender-hearted dame, Military is my bent; […]...
4. On Faith How do people stay true to each other? When I think of my parents all those years In the unmade bed of their marriage, not ever Longing for anything else – or: no, they must Have longed; there must have been flickerings, Stray desires, nights she turned from him, Sleepless, and wept, nights he rose […]...
5. The Locket From out her shabby rain-coat pocket The little Jew girl in the train Produced a dinted silver locket With pasted in it portraits twain. “These are my parents, sir” she said; “Or were, for now I fear they’re dead. “I know to Belsen they were sent; I never heard of them again. So many were […]...
6. Yesterday My friend says I was not a good son You understand I say yes I understand He says I did not go To see my parents very often you know And I say yes I know Even when I was living in the same city he says Maybe I would go there once A month […]...
7. Song At her Junior High School graduation, She sings alone In front of the lot of us Her voice soprano, surprising, Almost a woman’s. It is The Our Father in French, The new language Making her strange, out there, Fully fledged and Ready for anything. Sitting Together her separated Mother and father we can Hear the […]...
8. Milano wandering around milan my father I know that (bred in the bone) i’m you I walk and think – my legs roll onwards I take in the atmosphere but not the view But now you’re dead – and i’ve been silent For the past five months since you were burned A numbness that called itself […]...
9. Father He never made a fortune, or a noise In the world where men are seeking after fame; But he had a healthy brood of girls and boys Who loved the very ground on which he trod. They thought him just little short of God; Oh you should have heard the way they said his name […]...
10. My Future “Let’s make him a sailor,” said Father, “And he will adventure the sea.” “A soldier,” said Mother, “is rather What I would prefer him to be.” “A lawyer,” said Father, “would please me, For then he could draw up my will.” “A doctor,” said Mother, “would ease me; Maybe he could give me a pill.” […]...
11. Ordinary Love Indescribable our love and still we say With eyes averted, turning out the light, “I love you,” in the ordinary way And tug the coverlet where once we lay, All suntanned limbs entangled, shivering, white… Indescribably in love. Or so we say. Your hair’s blonde thicket now is tangle-gray; You turn your back; you murmur […]...
12. Ordinary Miracles Spring, rainbows, Ordinary miracles About which Nothing new can be said. The stars on a clear night Of a New England winter; The soft air of the islands Along the old Spanish Main; Pirate gold shining In the palm; The odor of roses To the lover’s nose. . . There is no more poetry To […]...
13. Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate. They are not long, the days of wine and roses: Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for a while, then closes Within a dream. [The title […]...
14. Domestic Scene The meal was o’er, the lamp was lit, The family sat in its glow; The Mother never ceased to knit, The Daughter never slacked to sew; The Father read his evening news, The Son was playing solitaire: If peace a happy home could choose I’m sure you’d swear that it was there. BUT The Mother: […]...
15. Widows My mother’s playing cards with my aunt, Spite and Malice, the family pastime, the game My grandmother taught all her daughters. Midsummer: too hot to go out. Today, my aunt’s ahead; she’s getting the good cards. My mother’s dragging, having trouble with her concentration. She can’t get used to her own bed this summer. She […]...
16. The First Step The young poet Evmenis Complained one day to Theocritus: “I’ve been writing for two years now And I’ve composed only one idyll. It’s my single completed work. I see, sadly, that the ladder Of Poetry is tall, extremely tall; And from this first step I’m standing on now I’ll never climb any higher.” Theocritus retorted: […]...
17. The Free THEY bathed in the fire-flooded fountains: Life girdled them round and about: They slept in the clefts of the mountains: The stars called them forth with a shout. They prayed, but their worship was only The wonder at nights and at days, As still as the lips of the lonely Though burning with dumbness of […]...
18. The Death of Fred Marsden, the American Playwright A pathetic tragedy I will relate, Concerning poor Fred. Marsden’s fate, Who suffocated himself by the fumes of gas, On the 18th of May, and in the year of 1888, alas! Fred. Marsden was a playwright, the theatrical world knows, And was highly esteemed by the people, and had very few foes; And in New […]...
19. Josiah Tompkins I was well known and much beloved And rich, as fortunes are reckoned In Spoon River, where I had lived and worked. That was the home for me, Though all my children had flown afar- Which is the way of Nature-all but one. The boy, who was the baby, stayed at home, To be my […]...
20. On The Meeting Of García Lorca And Hart Crane Brooklyn, 1929. Of course Crane’s Been drinking and has no idea who This curious Andalusian is, unable Even to speak the language of poetry. The young man who brought them Together knows both Spanish and English, But he has a headache from jumping Back and forth from one language To another. For a moment’s relief […]...
21. Again The children are back, the children are back- They’ve come to take refuge, exhale and unpack; The marriage has faltered, the job has gone bad, Come open the door for them, Mother and Dad. The city apartment is leaky and cold, The landlord lascivious, greedy and old- The mattress is lumpy, the oven’s encrusted, The […]...
22. Australia's Peril We must suffer, husband and father, we must suffer, daughter and son, For the wrong we have taken part in and the wrong that we have seen done. Let the bride of frivolous fashion, and of ease, be ashamed and dumb, For I tell you the nations shall rule us who have let their children […]...
23. Night Poem There is nothing to be afraid of, It is only the wind Changing to the east, it is only Your father the thunder Your mother the rain In this country of water With its beige moon damp as a mushroom, Its drowned stumps and long birds That swim, where the moss grows On all sides […]...
24. 1954 Then dirt scared me, because of the dirt He had put on her face. And her training bra Scared me-the newspapers, morning and evening, Kept saying it, training bra, As if the cups of it had been calling The breasts up-he buried her in it, Perhaps he had never bothered to take it Off. They […]...
25. A Brand New Life 1/ My dearest child, my dearest love Come to Ayah, who has just come My dearest star, my brightest sun Your loudest cries, my sweetest songs Your merry laughter, my constant prayer My dearest child, whenever you come Be you a son, be you a daughter Ayah’s been waiting here at home In quiet moments […]...
26. Daughter leaves and leaving call october home Her daughter releases wood Smoke from her skin Rich in scorpio Blood survived the first Flood each new year marks A circle around her Thick bark middle This the month summer and Winter fall into each Other and leave orange Yellow ashes The vibrancy of death Carry it all […]...
27. Three Oranges first time my father overheard me listening to This bit of music he asked me, “what is it?” “it’s called Love For Three Oranges,” I informed him. “boy,” he said, “that’s getting it Cheap.” He meant sex. Listening to it I always imagined three oranges Sitting there, You know how orange they can Get, So […]...
28. The Farewell Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage Gone, gone, sold and gone To the rice-swamp dank and lone. Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings Where the noisome insect stings Where the fever demon strews Poison with the falling dews Where the sickly sunbeams glare Through the hot and misty air; Gone, […]...
29. The Ordinary Man If you and I should chance to meet, I guess you wouldn’t care; I’m sure you’d pass me in the street As if I wasn’t there; You’d never look me in the face, My modest mug to scan, Because I’m just a commonplace And Ordinary Man. But then, it may be, you are too A […]...
30. The Irish Convict's Return Ye mountains and glens of Old Ireland, I’ve returned home to ye again; During my absence from ye My heart always felt great pain. Oh, how I long’d to see you dear Nora, And the old folks at home; And the beautiful Lakes o’ Killarney, Where we oft together did roam. Ye beautiful Lakes of […]...
31. Fruit of the Flower My father is a quiet man With sober, steady ways; For simile, a folded fan; His nights are like his days. My mother’s life is puritan, No hint of cavalier, A pool so calm you’re sure it can Have little depth to fear. And yet my father’s eyes can boast How full his life has […]...
32. THE ERL-KING WHO rides there so late through the night dark and drear? The father it is, with his infant so dear; He holdeth the boy tightly clasp’d in his arm, He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm. “My son, wherefore seek’st thou thy face thus to hide?” “Look, father, the Erl-King is close by our […]...
33. Lilian Stewart I was the daughter of Lambert Hutchins, Born in a cottage near the grist-mill, Reared in the mansion there on the hill, With its spires, bay-windows, and roof of slate. How proud my mother was of the mansion! How proud of father’s rise in the world! And how my father loved and watched us, And […]...
34. In Harbor A young man, twenty eight years old, on a vessel from Tenos, Emes arrived at this Syrian harbor With the intention of learning the perfume trade. But during the voyage he was taken ill. And as soon As he disembarked, he died. His burial, the poorest, Took place here. A few hours before he died, […]...
35. Rest in Peace No more for you the city’s thorny ways, The ugly corners of the Negro belt; The miseries and pains of these harsh days By you will never, never again be felt. No more, if still you wander, will you meet With nights of unabating bitterness; They cannot reach you in your safe retreat, The city’s […]...
36. The Bread-Knife Ballad A little child was sitting Up on her mother’s knee And down down her cheeks the bitter tears did flow. And as I sadly listened I heard this tender plea, ‘Twas uttered in a voice so soft and low. “Not guilty” said the Jury And the Judge said “Set her free, But remember it must […]...
37. INCOMPATABILITIES For Brenda Williams La lune diminue; divin septembre. Divine September the moon wanes. Pierre Jean Jouve Themes for poems and the detritus of dreams coalesce: This is one September I shall not forget. The grammar-school caretaker always had the boards re-blacked And the floors waxed, but I never shone. The stripes of the red and […]...
38. Washington McNeely Rich, honored by my fellow citizens, The father of many children, born of a noble mother, All raised there In the great mansion-house, at the edge of town. Note the cedar tree on the lawn! I sent all the boys to Ann Arbor, all of the girls to Rockford, The while my life went on, […]...
39. The Little Big Man I am small because I am a little child. I shall be big when I am As old as my father is. My teacher will come and say, “It is late, bring your slate And your books.” I shall tell him, ” Do you not know I am as big as father? And I must […]...
40. Taedium Vitae To stab my youth with desperate knives, to wear This paltry age’s gaudy livery, To let each base hand filch my treasury, To mesh my soul within a woman’s hair, And be mere Fortune’s lackeyed groom, – I swear I love it not! these things are less to me Than the thin foam that frets […]...