House On A Cliff

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1. Birds at Winter Nightfall (Triolet) Around the house the flakes fly faster, And all the berries now are gone From holly and cotoneaster Around the house. The flakes fly! faster Shutting indoors that crumb-outcaster We used to see upon the lawn Around the house. The flakes fly faster, And all the berries now are gone!...
2. New England Mind My mind matches this understand land. Outdoors the pencilled tree, the wind-carved drift, Indoors the constant fire, the careful thrift Are facts that I accept and understand. I have brought in red berries and green boughs- Berries of black alder, boughs of pine. They and the sunlight on them, both are mine. I need no […]...
3. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
4. Tor House If you should look for this place after a handful of lifetimes: Perhaps of my planted forest a few May stand yet, dark-leaved Australians or the coast cypress, haggard With storm-drift; but fire and the axe are devils. Look for foundations of sea-worn granite, my fingers had the art To make stone love stone, you […]...
5. The Harlot's House We caught the tread of dancing feet, We loitered down the moonlit street, And stopped beneath the harlot’s house. Inside, above the din and fray, We heard the loud musicians play The ‘Treues Liebes Herz’ of Strauss. Like strange mechanical grotesques, Making fantastic arabesques, The shadows raced across the blind. We watched the ghostly dancers […]...
6. Rhythm of Life The clock is silent Nowadays clocks no longer Need to make That rhythmic sound of life. We have moved on And everything is changed I am no longer sad I don’t weep for you. In still moments I see you solitary, reflective- Running with the wind along the waterfront With your Walkman on. Radiowaves carry […]...
7. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 08: Coffins: Interlude Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour: At the deep sudden stroke the pigeons fly. . . The fine snow flutes the cracks between the flagstones. We close our coats, and hurry, and search the sky. We are like music, each voice of it […]...
8. The House Of Dust: Part 04: 06: Cinema As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, Moving like music, secret and rich and warm. How shall we live to-night, where shall we turn? To what new light or darkness yearn? A thousand winding stairs lead down before us; And one by […]...
9. The House Of Dust: Part 01: 07: Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers The golden lights go out. . . The yellow windows darken, the shades are drawn, In thousands of rooms we sleep, we await the dawn, We lie face down, we dream, We cry aloud with terror, half rise, or seem To stare at the ceiling or walls. […]...
10. Jet Sometimes I wish I were still out On the back porch, drinking jet fuel With the boys, getting louder and louder As the empty cans drop out of our paws Like booster rockets falling back to Earth And we soar up into the summer stars. Summer. The big sky river rushes overhead, Bearing asteroids and […]...
11. The House Of Dust: Part 02: 07: Two Lovers: Overtones Two lovers, here at the corner, by the steeple, Two lovers blow together like music blowing: And the crowd dissolves about them like a sea. Recurring waves of sound break vaguely about them, They drift from wall to wall, from tree to tree. ‘Well, am I late?’ Upward they look and laugh, They look at […]...
12. The Old House In through the porch and up the silent stair; Little is changed, I know so well the ways; Here, the dead came to meet me; it was there The dream was dreamed in unforgotten days. But who is this that hurries on before, A flitting shade the brooding shades among? She turned, I saw her […]...
13. Those Dancing Days Are Gone Come, let me sing into your ear; Those dancing days are gone, All that silk and satin gear; Crouch upon a stone, Wrapping that foul body up In as foul a rag: I carry the sun in a golden cup. The moon in a silver bag. Curse as you may I sing it through; What […]...
14. Sonnet XXX: O'er the Tall Cliff O’er the tall cliff that bounds the billowy main Shad’wing the surge that sweeps the lonely strand, While the thin vapours break along the sand, Day’s harbinger unfolds the liquid plain. The rude Sea murmurs, mournful as the strain That love-lorn minstrels strike with trembling hand, While from their green beds rise the Syren band […]...
15. Beeny Cliff I O the opal and the sapphire of that wandering western sea, And the woman riding high above with bright hair flapping free- The woman whom I loved so, and who loyally loved me. I I The pale mews plained below us, and the waves seemed far away In a nether sky, engrossed in saying […]...
16. Abandoned Dog They dumped it on the lonely road, Then like a streak they sped; And as along the way I strode I thought that it was dead: And then I saw that yelping pup Rise, race to catch them up. You know how silly wee dogs are. It thought they were in fun. Trying to overtake […]...
17. Cliff Klingenhagen Cliff Klingenhagen had me in to dine With him one day; and after soup and meat, And all the other things there were to eat, Cliff took two glasses and filled one with wine And one with wormwood. Then, without a sign For me to choose at all, he took the draught Of bitterness himself, […]...
18. THE CHOSEN CLIFF HERE in silence the lover fondly mused on his loved one; Gladly he spake to me thus: “Be thou my witness, thou stone! Yet thou must not be vainglorious, thou hast many companions; Unto each rock on the plain, where I, the happy one, dwell, Unto each tree of the wood that I cling to, […]...
19. A Cliff Dwelling There sandy seems the golden sky And golden seems the sandy plain. No habitation meets the eye Unless in the horizon rim, Some halfway up the limestone wall, That spot of black is not a stain Or shadow, but a cavern hole, Where someone used to climb and crawl To rest from his besetting fears. […]...
20. The Bagel I stopped to pick up the bagel Rolling away in the wind, Annoyed with myself For having dropped it As if it were a portent. Faster and faster it rolled, With me running after it Bent low, gritting my teeth, And I found myself doubled over And rolling down the street Head over heels, one […]...
21. September We sit late, watching the dark slowly unfold: No clock counts this. When kisses are repeated and the arms hold There is no telling where time is. It is midsummer: the leaves hang big and still: Behind the eye a star, Under the silk of the wrist a sea, tell Time is nowhere. We stand; […]...
22. Marble Stairs Grievance On Marble Stairs Still grows the white dew That has all night Soaked her silk slippers, But she lets down Her crystal blind now And sees through glaze The moon of autumn....
23. The Withering Of The Boughs I cried when the moon was mutmuring to the birds: ‘Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will, I long for your merry and tender and pitiful words, For the roads are unending, and there is no place to my mind.’ The honey-pale moon lay low on the sleepy hill, And I fell asleep […]...
24. Dedication for a House We, who were long together homeless, raise Brick walls, wood floors, a roof, and windows up To what sustained us in those threatening days Unto this end. Alas, that this bright cup Be empty of the care and life of him Who should have made it overflow its brim....
25. Absence My cup is empty to-night, Cold and dry are its sides, Chilled by the wind from the open window. Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight. The room is filled with the strange scent Of wistaria blossoms. They sway in the moon’s radiance And tap against the wall. But the cup of my […]...
26. A House upon the Height A House upon the Height That Wagon never reached No Dead, were ever carried down No Peddler’s Cart approached Whose Chimney never smoked Whose Windows Night and Morn Caught Sunrise first and Sunset last Then held an Empty Pane Whose fate Conjecture knew No other neighbor did And what it was we never lisped Because […]...
27. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 12: Witches' Sabbath Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his blood the well-known bell Tolling slowly in heaves of sound, Slowly beating, slowly beating, Shaking its pulse on the stagnant air: Sometimes it swung completely round, Horribly gasping as if for breath; Falling down with […]...
28. The House of Fortune III My wearied heart bade me farewell and left for the House of Fortune. As he reached that holy city which the soul had blessed and worshipped, he commenced wondering, for he could not find what he had always imagined would be there. The city was empty of power, money, and authority. And my heart spoke […]...
29. The New House NOW first, as I shut the door, I was alone In the new house; and the wind Began to moan. Old at once was the house, And I was old; My ears were teased with the dread Of what was foretold, Nights of storm, days of mist, without end; Sad days when the sun Shone […]...
30. The house where I was born (08) I open my eyes, yes, it’s the house where I was born, Exactly as it was and nothing more. The same small dining room whose window Gives onto a peach tree that never grows. A man and a woman are seated At this window, facing one another, They are talking, for once. And the child […]...
31. The House with Nobody in It Whenever I walk to Suffern along the Erie track I go by a poor old farmhouse with its shingles broken and black. I suppose I’ve passed it a hundred times, but I always stop for A minute And look at the house, the tragic house, the house with nobody in It. I never have seen […]...
32. Moonset LEAVES of poplars pick Japanese prints against the west. Moon sand on the canal doubles the changing pictures. The moon’s good-by ends pictures. The west is empty. All else is empty. No moon-talk at all now. Only dark listening to dark....
33. The House Of Dust: Part 04: 01: Clairvoyant ‘This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond of? Something he remembers?- The soul flies far, and we can only call it By things like these. . . a photograph, a letter, Ribbon, or charm, or watch. . . ‘ . . . […]...
34. Hymn 83 Afflictions and death under Providence. Job 5:6-8. Not from the dust affliction grows, Nor troubles rise by chance; Yet we are born to cares and woes; A sad inheritance! As sparks break out from burning coals, And still are upwards borne So grief is rooted in our souls, And man grows up to mourn. Yet […]...
35. Clock-O'-Clay In the cowslip pips I lie, Hidden from the buzzing fly, While green grass beneath me lies, Pearled with dew like fishes’ eyes, Here I lie, a clock-o’-clay, Waiting for the time o’ day. While the forest quakes surprise, And the wild wind sobs and sighs, My home rocks as like to fall, On its […]...
36. Between Games Nobody rests This one constantly shifts his eyes Hangs them on his head And whether he wants it or not starts walking backwards He puts them on the soles of his feet And whether he wants it or not returns walking on his head This one turns into an ear He hears all that won’t […]...
37. On Eastnor Knoll SILENT are the woods, and the dim green boughs are Hushed in the twilight: yonder, in the path through The apple orchard, is a tired plough-boy Calling the cows home. A bright white star blinks, the pale moon rounds, but Still the red, lurid wreckage of the sunset Smoulders in smoky fire, and burns on […]...
38. The Half-way House Love I was shewn upon the mountain-side And bid to catch Him ere the dropp of day. See, Love, I creep and Thou on wings dost ride: Love it is evening now and Thou away; Love, it grows darker here and Thou art above; Love, come down to me if Thy name be Love. My […]...
39. The Junk Man I AM glad God saw Death And gave Death a job taking care of all who are tired Of living: When all the wheels in a clock are worn and slow and The connections loose And the clock goes on ticking and telling the wrong time From hour to hour And people around the house […]...
40. 550. Song-A Lass wi' a Tocher AWA’ wi’ your witchcraft o’ Beauty’s alarms, The slender bit Beauty you grasp in your arms, O, gie me the lass that has acres o’ charms, O, gie me the lass wi’ the weel-stockit farms. Chorus.-Then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher, Then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher; Then hey, for a […]...