Monet Refuses The Operation

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1. Monet's Waterlilies Today as the news from Selma and Saigon Poisons the air like fallout, I come again to see The serene, great picture that I love. Here space and time exist in light The eye like the eye of faith believes. The seen, the known Dissolve in iridescence, become Illusive flesh of light That was not, […]...
2. Dedication In youth I longed to paint The loveliness I saw; And yet by dire constraint I had to study Law. But now all that is past, And I have no regret, For I am free at last Law to forget. To beauty newly born With brush and tube I play; And though my daubs you […]...
3. Operation Memory We were smoking some of this knockout weed when Operation Memory was announced. To his separate bed Each soldier went, counting backwards from a hundred With a needle in his arm. And there I was, in the middle Of a recession, in the middle of a strange city, between jobs And apartments and wives. Nobody […]...
4. Ships that Pass in the Night Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; I look far out into the pregnant night, Where I can hear the solemn booming gun And catch the gleaming of a random light, That tells me that the ship I seek Is passing, passing. My tearful eyes my soul’s deep hurt are glassing; For […]...
5. Last Night As I Was Sleeping Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!- That a spring was breaking Out in my heart. I said: Along which secret aqueduct, Oh water, are you coming to me, Water of a new life That I have never drunk? Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!- That I had a beehive […]...
6. Maveric Maveric Prowles Had Rumbling Bowles That thundered in the night. It shook the bedrooms all around And gave the folks a fright. The doctor called; He was appalled When through his stethoscope He heard the sound of a baying hound, And the acrid smell of smoke. Was there a cure? ‘The higher the fewer’ The […]...
7. Grand-Pa's Whim While for me gapes the greedy grave It don’t make sense That I should have a crazy crave To paint our fence. Yet that is what I aim to do, Though dim my sight: Jest paint them aged pickets blue, Or green or white. Jest squat serenely in the sun Wi’ brush an’ paint, An’ […]...
8. Angina Pectoris If half my heart is here, doctor, the other half is in China With the army flowing toward the Yellow River. And, every morning, doctor, Every morning at sunrise my heart is shot in Greece. And every night, c doctor, When the prisoners are asleep and the infirmary is deserted, My heart stops at a […]...
9. Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
10. The God Of Common-Sense My Daddy used to wallop me for every small offense: “Its takes a hair-brush back,” said he, “to teach kids common-sense.” And still to-day I scarce can look a hair-brush in the face. Without I want in sympathy to pat a tender place. For Dad declared with unction: “Spare the brush and spoil the brat.” […]...
11. Conscious His fingers wake, and flutter up the bed. His eyes come open with a pull of will, Helped by the yellow may-flowers by his head. A blind-cord drawls across the window-sill. . . How smooth the floor of the ward is! what a rug! And who’s that talking, somewhere out of sight? Why are they […]...
12. Oh Who Is That Young Sinner Oh who is that young sinner with the handcuffs on his wrists? And what has he been after that they groan and shake their fists? And wherefore is he wearing such a conscience-stricken air? Oh they’re taking him to prison for the color of his hair. ‘Tis a shame to human nature, such a head […]...
13. Next Time Next time what I’d do is look at The earth before saying anything. I’d stop Just before going into a house And be an emperor for a minute And listen better to the wind or to the air being still. When anyone talked to me, whether Blame or praise or just passing time, I’d watch […]...
14. The Gardener XLV: To the Guests To the guests that must go bid God’s speed and brush away all traces Of their steps. Take to your bosom with a smile What is easy and simple and near. To-day is the festival of phantoms That know not when they die. Let your laughter be but a meaning- Less mirth like twinkles of […]...
15. Roundel She’s passing fair; but so demure is she, So quiet is her gown, so smooth her hair, That few there are who note her and agree She’s passing fair. Yet when was ever beauty held more rare Than simple heart and maiden modesty? What fostered charms with virtue could compare? Alas, no lover ever stops […]...
16. How Much Earth Torn into light, you woke wriggling On a woman’s palm. Halved, quartered, Shredded to the wind, you were the life That thrilled along the underbelly Of a stone. Stilled in the frozen pond You rinsed heaven with a sigh. How much earth is a man. A wall fies down and roses Rush from its teeth; […]...
17. Shoveling Snow With Buddha In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok You would never see him doing such a thing, Tossing the dry snow over a mountain Of his bare, round shoulder, His hair tied in a knot, A model of concentration. Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word For what he […]...
18. My Picture I made a picture; all my heart I put in it, and all I knew Of canvas-cunning and of Art, Of tenderness and passion true. A worshipped Master came to see; Oh he was kind and gentle, too. He studied it with sympathy, And sensed what I had sought to do. Said he: “Your paint […]...
19. Madmen They say you can jinx a poem If you talk about it before it is done. If you let it out too early, they warn, Your poem will fly away, And this time they are absolutely right. Take the night I mentioned to you I wanted to write about the madmen, As the newspapers so […]...
20. A Day Like Any Other Such insignificance: a glance At your record on the doctor’s desk Or a letter not meant for you. How could you have known? It’s not true That your life passes before you In rapid motion, but your watch Suddenly ticks like an amplified heart, The hands freezing against a white That is a judgment. Otherwise […]...
21. Strayed Crab This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must Be over that way somewhere. I am the color of wine, of tinta. The inside of my powerful Right claw is saffron-yellow. See, I see it now; I wave it like a Flag. I am dapper and elegant; I move […]...
22. They leave us with the Infinite They leave us with the Infinite. But He is not a man His fingers are the size of fists His fists, the size of men And whom he foundeth, with his Arm As Himmaleh, shall stand Gibraltar’s Everlasting Shoe Poised lightly on his Hand, So trust him, Comrade You for you, and I, for you […]...
23. Moon Fishing When the moon was full they came to the water. Some with pitchforks, some with rakes, Some with sieves and ladles, And one with a silver cup. And they fished til a traveler passed them and said, “Fools, To catch the moon you must let your women Spread their hair on the water Even the […]...
24. Passing away, saith the World Passing away, saith the World, passing away: Chances, beauty and youth, sapp’d day by day: Thy life never continueth in one stay. Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey That hath won neither laurel nor bay? I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May: Thou, root-stricken, shalt not […]...
25. Anahorish My “place of clear water,” The first hill in the world Where springs washed into The shiny grass And darkened cobbles In the bed of the lane. Anahorish, soft gradient Of consonant, vowel-meadow, After-image of lamps Swung through the yards On winter evenings. With pails and barrows Those mound-dwellers Go waist-deep in mist To break […]...
26. La Figlia che Piange O quam te memorem virgo… STAND on the highest pavement of the stair- Lean on a garden urn- Weave, weave the sunlight in your hair- Clasp your flowers to you with a pained surprise- Fling them to the ground and turn With a fugitive resentment in your eyes: But weave, weave the sunlight in your […]...
27. Hallelujah: A Sestina A wind’s word, the Hebrew Hallelujah. I wonder they never gave it to a boy (Hal for short) boy with wind-wild hair. It means Praise God, as well it should since praise Is what God’s for. Why didn’t they call my father Hallelujah instead of Ebenezer? Eben, of course, but christened Ebenezer, Product of Nova […]...
28. Torn Shades How, in the first place, did They get torn-pulled down hard Too many times: to hide a blow, Or sex, or a man In stained pajamas? The tear blade-shaped, Serrated, in tatters. And once, In a house flatside to a gas station, As snow fell at a speed and angle you could lean on, Two […]...
29. Evadne I first tasted under Apollo’s lips, Love and love sweetness, I, Evadne; My hair is made of crisp violets Or hyacinth which the wind combs back Across some rock shelf; I, Evadne, Was made of the god of light. His hair was crisp to my mouth, As the flower of the crocus, Across my cheek, […]...
30. Night-piece what’s that i’m awake A bang like a door or a foot Knocking a chair who’s there Tense i lie in my bed my face Stretching out on the black air My ears strain……a creak this time Like a cat on the stair – but we have no cat If the door-handle turned and a…. […]...
31. A London Thoroughfare. 2 A. M They have watered the street, It shines in the glare of lamps, Cold, white lamps, And lies Like a slow-moving river, Barred with silver and black. Cabs go down it, One, And then another. Between them I hear the shuffling of feet. Tramps doze on the window-ledges, Night-walkers pass along the sidewalks. The city is […]...
32. Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
33. 161. Epigram Addressed to an Artist DEAR -, I’ll gie ye some advice, You’ll tak it no uncivil: You shouldna paint at angels mair, But try and paint the devil. To paint an Angel’s kittle wark, Wi’ Nick, there’s little danger: You’ll easy draw a lang-kent face, But no sae weel a stranger.-R. B....
34. Scab Maids On Speed My first job was when I was about 15. I had met A girl named Hope who became my best friend. Hope and I were flunking math Class so we became speed freaks. This honed our algebra skills and we quickly Became whiz kids. For about 5 minutes. Then, our brains started to fry And […]...
35. Adventures Of Isabel Isabel met an enormous bear, Isabel, Isabel, didn’t care; The bear was hungry, the bear was ravenous, The bear’s big mouth was cruel and cavernous. The bear said, Isabel, glad to meet you, How do, Isabel, now I’ll eat you! Isabel, Isabel, didn’t worry. Isabel didn’t scream or scurry. She washed her hands and she […]...
36. The Washing and Dressing Ah! why will my dear little girl be so cross, And cry, and look sulky, and pout? To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss, I can’t even kiss her without. You say you don’t like to be wash’d and be dress’d, But would you not wish to be clean? Come, drive that long […]...
37. 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 […]...
38. Perfidy Hollow rang the house when I knocked on the door, And I lingered on the threshold with my hand Upraised to knock and knock once more: Listening for the sound of her feet across the floor, Hollow re-echoed my heart. The low-hung lamps stretched down the road With shadows drifting underneath, With a music of […]...
39. Locked Doors For the angels who inhabit this town, Although their shape constantly changes, Each night we leave some cold potatoes And a bowl of milk on the windowsill. Usually they inhabit heaven where, By the way, no tears are allowed. They push the moon around like A boiled yam. The Milky Way is their hen With […]...
40. The bow-leg boy Who should come up the road one day But the doctor-man in his two-wheel shay! And he whoaed his horse and he cried “Ahoy! I have brought you folks a bow-leg boy! Such a cute little boy! Such a funny little boy! Such a dear little bow-leg boy!” He took out his box and he […]...