Emotional Idiot

Related poetry:

1. Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
2. 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 […]...
3. Hanging Fire I am fourteen And my skin has betrayed me The boy I cannot live without Still sucks his tumb In secret How come my knees are Always so ashy What if I die Before the morning comes And momma’s in the bedroom With the door closed. I have to learn how to dance In time […]...
4. Money Quarterly, is it, money reproaches me: ‘Why do you let me lie here wastefully? I am all you never had of goods and sex, You could get them still by writing a few cheques.’ So I look at others, what they do with theirs: They certainly don’t keep it upstairs. By now they’ve a second […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. Money When I had money, money, O! I knew no joy till I went poor; For many a false man as a friend Came knocking all day at my door. Then felt I like a child that holds A trumpet that he must not blow Because a man is dead; I dared Not speak to let […]...
7. Brownie In a corner of the bedroom is a great big curtain, Someone lives behind it, but I don’t know who; I think it is a Brownie, but I’m not quite certain. (Nanny isn’t certain, too.) I looked behind the curtain, but he went so quickly – Brownies never wait to say, “How do you do?” […]...
8. Karma Repair Kit: Items 1-4 1. Get enough food to eat, and eat it. 2. Find a place to sleep where it is quiet, and sleep there. 3. Reduce intellectual and emotional noise until you arrive at the silence of yourself, and listen to it....
9. Chant For Dark Hours Some men, some men Cannot pass a Book shop. (Lady, make your mind up, and wait your life away.) Some men, some men Cannot pass a Crap game. (He said he’d come at moonrise, and here’s another day!) Some men, some men Cannot pass a Bar-room. (Wait about, and hang about, and that’s the way […]...
10. If You are a Man If you are a man, and believe in the destiny of mankind Then say to yourself: we will cease to care About property and money and mechanical devices, And open our consciousness to the deep, mysterious life That we are now cut off from. The machine shall be abolished from the earth again; It is […]...
11. Autumn MILD is the parting year, and sweet The odour of the falling spray; Life passes on more rudely fleet, And balmless is its closing day. I wait its close, I court its gloom, But mourn that never must there fall Or on my breast or on my tomb The tear that would have soothed it […]...
12. Filthy Savior Look at this storm, the idiot, Pouring its heart out here, of all places, An industrial suburb on a Sunday, Soaking nothing but cinder-block And parking lots, wasting its breath on smokeless Smoke-stacks, not even a trash can To send rumbling through the streets. And that lightning bolt, forking itself To death, to hit nothing […]...
13. Dinner at the Who's Who amidst swirling wine And flickers of silver guests quote Dante, Brecht, Kant and each other. I wait in the hall after not Powdering my nose, trying to re- Compose that woman who’ll graciously take her place At the table and won’t tell her hosts: I looked into your bedroom and closets, smelled your “Obsession” and […]...
14. Carlovingian Dreams COUNT these reminiscences like money. The Greeks had their picnics under another name. The Romans wore glad rags and told their neighbors, “What of it?” The Carlovingians hauling logs on carts, they too Stuck their noses in the air and stuck their thumbs to their noses And tasted life as a symphonic dream of fresh […]...
15. Homage To A Government Next year we are to bring all the soldiers home For lack of money, and it is all right. Places they guarded, or kept orderly, We want the money for ourselves at home Instead of working. And this is all right. It’s hard to say who wanted it to happen, But now it’s been decided […]...
16. A Challenge To The Dark shot in the eye Shot in the brain Shot in the ass Shot like a flower in the dance Amazing how death wins hands down Amazing how much credence is given to idiot forms of life Amazing how laughter has been drowned out Amazing how viciousness is such a constant I must soon declare my […]...
17. Impatience How can I wait until you come to me? The once fleet mornings linger by the way; Their sunny smiles touched with malicious glee At my unrest, they seem to pause, and play Like truant children, while I sigh and say, How can I wait? How can I wait? Of old, the rapid hours Refused […]...
18. They Should Have Provided I have almost been reduced to a homeless pauper. This fatal city, Antioch, Has consumed all my money; This fatal city with its expensive life. But I am young and in excellent health. My command of Greek is superb (I know all there is about Aristotle, Plato; Orators, poets, you name it.) I have an […]...
19. Time Of Disturbance The best is, in war or faction or ordinary vindictive life, not to take sides. Leave it for children, and the emotional rabble of the streets, to back their horse or support a brawler. But if you are forced into it: remember that good and evil are as common as air, and like air shared […]...
20. All that I do All that I do Is in review To his enamored mind I know his eye Where e’er I ply Is pushing close behind Not any Port Nor any flight But he doth there preside What omnipresence lies in wait For her to be a Bride...
21. 365. Lines on Fergusson, the Poet ILL-FATED genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson! What heart that feels and will not yield a tear, To think Life’s sun did set e’er well begun To shed its influence on thy bright career. O why should truest Worth and Genius pine Beneath the iron grasp of Want and Woe, While titled knaves and idiot-Greatness shine In all […]...
22. Worry About Money Wearing worry about money like a hair shirt I lie down in my bed and wrestle with my angel. My bank-manager could not sanction my continuance for another day But life itself wakes me each morning, and love Urges me to give although I have no money In the bank at this moment, and ought […]...
23. Nothing To Be Said For nations vague as weed, For nomads among stones, Small-statured cross-faced tribes And cobble-close families In mill-towns on dark mornings Life is slow dying. So are their separate ways Of building, benediction, Measuring love and money Ways of slow dying. The day spent hunting pig Or holding a garden-party, Hours giving evidence Or birth, advance […]...
24. The Reason My life is vile I hate it so I’ll wait awhile And then I’ll go. Why wait at all? Hope springs alive, Good may befall I yet may thrive. It is because I can’t make up my mind If God is good, impotent or unkind....
25. The Garden En robe de parade. Samain Like a skien of loose silk blown against a wall She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens, And she is dying piece-meal of a sort of emotional anaemia. And round about there is a rabble Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor. They […]...
26. Intimates Don’t you care for my love? she said bitterly. I handed her the mirror, and said: Please address these questions to the proper person! Please make all requests to head-quarters! In all matters of emotional importance Please approach the supreme authority direct! – So I handed her the mirror. And she would have broken it […]...
27. The Centipede I objurgate the centipede, A bug we do not really need. At sleepy-time he beats a path Straight to the bedroom or the bath. You always wallop where he’s not, Or, if he is, he makes a spot....
28. Bankers Are Just Like Anybody Else, Except Richer This is a song to celebrate banks, Because they are full of money and you go into them and all You hear is clinks and clanks, Or maybe a sound like the wind in the trees on the hills, Which is the rustling of the thousand dollar bills. Most bankers dwell in marble halls, Which […]...
29. From The Tenth Elegy Ah, but the City of Pain: how strange its streets are: The false silence of sound drowning sound, And there proud, brazen, effluence from the mold of emptiness The gilded hubbub, the bursting monument. How an Angel would stamp out their market of solaces, Set up alongside their church bought to order: Clean and closed […]...
30. When I'm Killed When I’m killed, don’t think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there’s one thing that I know well, I’m damned if I’ll be damned to Hell! So when I’m killed, don’t wait for me, Walking the dim corridor; In Heaven or Hell, […]...
31. Eat Your Heart Out I’ve come by, she says, to tell you That this is it. I’m not kidding, it’s Over. this is it. I sit on the couch watching her arrange Her long red hair before my bedroom Mirror. She pulls her hair up and Piles it on top of her head- She lets her eyes look at […]...
32. Henry Phipps I was the Sunday school superintendent, The dummy president of the wagon works And the canning factory, Acting for Thomas Rhodes and the banking clique; My son the cashier of the bank, Wedded to Rhodes’ daughter, My week day spent in making money, My Sundays at church and in prayer. In everything a cog in […]...
33. Selecting A Reader First, I would have her be beautiful, And walking carefully up on my poetry At the loneliest moment of an afternoon, Her hair still damp at the neck From washing it. She should be wearing A raincoat, an old one, dirty From not having money enough for the cleaners. She will take out her glasses, […]...
34. Spring To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is […]...
35. Roulette I’ll wait until my money’s gone Before I take the sleeping pills; Then when they find me in the dawn, Remote from earthly ails and ills They’ll say: “She’s broke, the foreign bitch!” And dump me in the common ditch. So thought I, of all hope bereft, And by my evil fate obsessed; A thousand […]...
36. Tom Beatty I was a lawyer like Harmon Whitney Or Kinsey Keene or Garrison Standard, For I tried the rights of property, Although by lamp-light, for thirty years, In that poker room in the opera house. And I say to you that Life’s a gambler Head and shoulders above us all. No mayor alive can close the […]...
37. Journey Ah, could I lay me down in this long grass And close my eyes, and let the quiet wind Blow over me-I am so tired, so tired Of passing pleasant places! All my life, Following Care along the dusty road, Have I looked back at loveliness and sighed; Yet at my hand an unrelenting hand […]...
38. Things What happened is, we grew lonely Living among the things, So we gave the clock a face, The chair a back, The table four stout legs Which will never suffer fatigue. We fitted our shoes with tongues As smooth as our own And hung tongues inside bells So we could listen To their emotional language, […]...
39. Waking In March Last night, again, I dreamed My children were back at home, Small boys huddled in their separate beds, And I went from one to the other Listening to their breathing regular, Almost soundless until a white light Hardened against the bedroom wall, The light of Los Angeles burning south Of here, going at last as […]...
40. March 1 I could stare for hours At her, the woman stepping Out of her bath, breasts Bare, towel around her waist, Before I knew she was you In that one-bedroom in The Village sunny and cold That Friday we woke up Slowly & our breakfast table Arranged itself into A still life with irises In a […]...