Rita And The Rifle

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1. Rita Matlock Gruenberg Grandmother! You who sang to green valleys, And passed to a sweet repose at ninety-six, Here is your little Rita at last Grown old, grown forty-nine; Here stretched on your grave under the winter stars, With the rustle of oak leaves over my head; Piecing together strength for the act, Last thoughts, memories, asking how […]...
2. Every Man Should have a Rifle So I sit and write and ponder, while the house is deaf and dumb, Seeing visions “over yonder” of the war I know must come. In the corner – not a vision – but a sign for coming days Stand a box of ammunition and a rifle in green baize. And in this, the living […]...
3. The Wrong Way Home All night a door floated down the river. It tried to remember little incidents of pleasure From its former life, like the time the lovers Leaned against it kissing for hours And whispering those famous words. Later, there were harsh words and a shoe Was thrown and the door was slammed. Comings and goings by […]...
4. Ode To Wine Day-colored wine, Night-colored wine, Wine with purple feet Or wine with topaz blood, Wine, Starry child Of earth, Wine, smooth As a golden sword, Soft As lascivious velvet, Wine, spiral-seashelled And full of wonder, Amorous, Marine; Never has one goblet contained you, One song, one man, You are choral, gregarious, At the least, you must […]...
5. He, who was born He, who was born in stagnant year Does not remember own way. We, kids of Russia’s years of fear, Remember every night and day. Years that burned everything to ashes! Do you bring madness or grace? The war’s and freedom’s fire flashes Left bloody light on every face. We are struck dumb: the toxsin’s pressure […]...
6. Cups of Coffee THE HAGGARD woman with a hacking cough and a deathless love whispers of white Flowers… in your poem you pour like a cup of coffee, Gabriel. The slim girl whose voice was lost in the waves of flesh piled on her bones… and The woman who sold to many men and saw her breasts shrivel… […]...
7. My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Till After Hell I hold my honey and I store my bread In little jars and cabinets of my will. I label clearly, and each latch and lid I bid, Be firm till I return from hell. I am very hungry. I am incomplete. And none can give me any word but Wait, The puny light. I keep […]...
8. Pad, Pad I always remember your beautiful flowers And the beautiful kimono you wore When you sat on the couch With that tigerish crouch And told me you loved me no more. What I cannot remember is how I felt when you were unkind All I know is, if you were unkind now I should not mind. […]...
9. Suicide Note “You speak to me of narcissism but I reply that it is A matter of my life” – Artaud “At this time let me somehow bequeath all the leftovers To my daughters and their daughters” – Anonymous Better, Despite the worms talking to The mare’s hoof in the field; Better, Despite the season of young […]...
10. Flame-Heart So much have I forgotten in ten years, So much in ten brief years! I have forgot What time the purple apples come to juice, And what month brings the shy forget-me-not. I have forgot the special, startling season Of the pimento’s flowering and fruiting; What time of year the ground doves brown the fields […]...
11. Picture Of A 23-Year-Old Youth Painted By His Friend Of The Same Age, An Amature He finished the painting yesterday noon. Now He studies it in detail. He has painted him in a Gray unbuttoned coat, a deep gray; without Any vest or any tie. With a rose-colored shirt; Open at the collar, so something might be seen Also of the beauty of his chest, of his neck. The right […]...
12. Love What’s wrong with you, with us, What’s happening to us? Ah our love is a harsh cord That binds us wounding us And if we want To leave our wound, To separate, It makes a new knot for us and condemns us To drain our blood and burn together. What’s wrong with you? I look […]...
13. I Remember, I Remember I Remember, I Remember I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor brought too long a day; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away. I remember, I remember The […]...
14. A Negro Love Song Seen my lady home las’ night, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hel’ huh han’ an’ sque’z it tight, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd huh sigh a little sigh, Seen a light gleam f’om huh eye, An’ a smile go flittin’ by Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd de win’ blow thoo de pine, Jump […]...
15. What Is To Be Given What is to be given, Is spirit, yet animal, Colored, like heaven, Blue, yellow, beautiful. The blood is checkered by So many stains and wishes, Between it and the sky You could not choose, for riches. Yet let me now be careful Not to give too much To one so shy and fearful For like […]...
16. Valley Song YOUR eyes and the valley are memories. Your eyes fire and the valley a bowl. It was here a moonrise crept over the timberline. It was here we turned the coffee cups upside down. And your eyes and the moon swept the valley. I will see you again to-morrow. I will see you again in […]...
17. Try To Remember Some Details Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing Of the one you love So that on the day of loss you’ll be able to say: last seen Wearing such-and-such, brown jacket, white hat. Try to remember some details. For they have no face And their soul is hidden and their crying Is the same as […]...
18. Only Dreams A maiden sat in teh sunset glow Of the shadowy, beautiful Long Ago, That we see through a mist of tears. She sat and dreamed, with lips apart, With thoughtful eyes and a beating heart, Of the mystical future years; And brighter far than the sunset skies Was the vision seen by the maiden’s eyes. […]...
19. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 02: The Screen Maiden You read-what is it, then that you are reading? What music moves so silently in your mind? Your bright hand turns the page. I watch you from my window, unsuspected: You move in an alien land, a silent age. . . . . . The poet-what was his name-? Tokkei-Tokkei- The poet walked alone in […]...
20. Past and Present I remember, I remember The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon Nor bought too long a day; But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away. I remember, I remember The roses, red and white, […]...
21. To the Tune Breeze soft, sun frail, spring still early. In a new lined dress my heart was refreshed, But when I rose from sleep I felt a chill. I put plum blossoms in my hair. Now they are withered. Where is my homeland? I forgot it only when drunk. The sandal wood incense burned out while I […]...
22. A Vindication If heaven loved not the wine, A Wine Star would not be in heaven; If earth loved not the wine, The Wine Spring would not be on the earth. Since heaven and earth love the wine, Need a tippling mortal be ashamed? The transparent wine, I hear, Has the soothing virtue of a sage, While […]...
23. Return Return often and take me, Beloved sensation, return and take me When the memory of the body awakens, And an old desire runs again through the blood; When the lips and the skin remember, And the hands feel as if they touch again. Return often and take me at night, When the lips and the […]...
24. Drunken Memories Of Anne Sexton The first and last time I met My ex-lover Anne Sexton was at A protest poetry reading against Some anti-constitutional war in Asia When some academic son of a bitch, To test her reputation as a drunk, Gave her a beer glass full of wine After our reading. She drank It all down while staring […]...
25. The Return of Persephone Gliding through the still air, he made no sound; Wing-shod and deft, dropped almost at her feet, And searched the ghostly regiments and found The living eyes, the tremor of breath, the beat Of blood in all that bodiless underground. She left her majesty; she loosed the zone Of darkness and put by the rod […]...
26. Wolf Knife In the mid August, in the second year Of my First Polar Expedition, the snow and ice of winter Almost upon us, Kantiuk and I Attempted to dash the sledge Along Crispin Bay, searching again for relics Of the Frankline Expedition. Now a storm blew, And we turned back, and we struggled slowly In snow, […]...
27. From One Augur to Another So, Calchas, on the sacred Palatine, You thought of Mopsus, and o’er wastes of sea A flower brought your message. I divine (Through my deep art) the kindly mockery That played about your lips and in your eyes, Plucking the frail leaf, while you dreamed of home. Thanks for the silent greeting! I shall prize, […]...
28. Sleep she was a short one Getting fat and she had once been Beautiful and She drank the wine She drank the wine in bed and Talked and screamed and cursed at Me And i told her Please, I need some Sleep. -sleep? sleep? ya son of a Bitch, ya never sleep, ya Don’t need any […]...
29. Breakfast Of all the meals that glad my day My morning one’s the best; Purveyed me on a silver tray, Immaculately dressed. I rouse me when the dawn is bright; I leap into the sea, Returning with a rare delight To honey, toast and tea. My appetite was razor edged When I was in my prime; […]...
30. THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER As Julia once a-slumb’ring lay, It chanced a bee did fly that way, After a dew, or dew-like shower, To tipple freely in a flower; For some rich flower, he took the lip Of Julia, and began to sip; But when he felt he suck’d from thence Honey, and in the quintessence, He drank so […]...
31. In The Gold Room – A Harmony Her ivory hands on the ivory keys Strayed in a fitful fantasy, Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees Rustle their pale-leaves listlessly, Or the drifting foam of a restless sea When the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze. Her gold hair fell on the wall of gold Like the delicate gossamer […]...
32. Loch Leven Beautiful Loch Leven, near by Kinross For a good day’s fishing the angler is seldom at a loss, For the Loch it abounds with pike and trout, Which can be had for the catching without any doubt; And the scenery around it is most beautiful to be seen, Especially the Castle, wherein was imprisoned Scotland’s […]...
33. Music I Heard Music I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was more than bread; Now that I am without you, all is desolate; All that was once so beautiful is dead. Your hands once touched this table and this silver, And I have seen your fingers hold this glass. These […]...
34. Love and Sleep Lying asleep between the strokes of night I saw my love lean over my sad bed, Pale as the duskiest lily’s leaf or head, Smooth-skinned and dark, with bare throat made to bite, Too wan for blushing and too warm for white, But perfect-colored without white or red. And her lips opened amorously, and said […]...
35. Something Has Fallen Something has fallen wordlessly And holds still on the black driveway. You find it, like a jewel, Among the empty bottles and cans Where the dogs toppled the garbage. You pick it up, not sure If it is stone or wood Or some new plastic made To replace them both. When you raise your sunglasses […]...
36. Anticipation I have been temperate always, But I am like to be very drunk With your coming. There have been times I feared to walk down the street Lest I should reel with the wine of you, And jerk against my neighbours As they go by. I am parched now, and my tongue is horrible in […]...
37. Echoes From the Greek Mythology I – STARLIGHT With two bright eyes, my star, my love, Thou lookest on the stars above: Ah, would that I the heaven might be With a million eyes to look on thee. Plato. II – ROSELEAF A little while the rose, And after that the thorn; An hour of dewy morn, And then the […]...
38. Paula NOTHING else in this song-only your face. Nothing else here-only your drinking, night-gray eyes. The pier runs into the lake straight as a rifle barrel. I stand on the pier and sing how I know you mornings. It is not your eyes, your face, I remember. It is not your dancing, race-horse feet. It is […]...
39. To the Recluse, Wei Pa Often in this life of ours we resemble, in our failure to meet, the Shen and Shang constellations, one of which rises as the other one sets. What lucky Chance is it, then, that brings us together this evening under the light of This same lamp? Youth and vigor last but a little time. – […]...
40. Scots of the Riverina The boy cleared out to the city from his home at harvest time They were Scots of the Riverina, and to run from home was a crime. The old man burned his letters, the first and last he burned, And he scratched his name from the Bible when the old wife’s back was turned. A […]...