Belly Good

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1. Blue dress i can see through the blue Dress when you stand In the doorway – the light Come indoors softly like A cat between your legs When you walk and The dress flows Over the curved pebble Of your belly into The blue pool my eye Is already there Waiting for the ripple I have the […]...
2. The people tangwena says this is our land soiled by the blood of black centuries Smith says the white tongue goes bang bang black must learn words of a new march Tangwena says every tree here is made in the image of a black ghost Smith says the white tongue goes bang bang you must make your […]...
3. The Pigeon Shooting They say that Monte Carlo is A sunny place for shady people; But I’m not in the gambling biz, And sober as a parish steeple. So though this paradisal spot The devil’s playground of the rich is, I love it and I love it not, As men may sometimes fall for bitches. I lazed beneath […]...
4. 24. Song-No Churchman am I NO churchman am I for to rail and to write, No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight, No sly man of business contriving a snare, For a big-belly’d bottle’s the whole of my care. The peer I don’t envy, I give him his bow; I scorn not the peasant, though ever so low; […]...
5. Traveling Dream I am packing to go to the airport But somehow I am never packed. I keep remembering more things I keep forgetting. Secretly the clock is bolting Forward ten minutes at a click Instead of one. Each time I look away, it jumps. Now I remember I have to find The cats. I have four […]...
6. Something I approach with such A careful tremor, always I feel the finally foolish Question of how it is, Then, supposed to be felt, And by whom. I remember Once in a rented room on 27th street, the woman I loved Then, literally, after we Had made love on the large Bed sitting across from A […]...
7. The Crazed Moon Crazed through much child-bearing The moon is staggering in the sky; Moon-struck by the despairing Glances of her wandering eye We grope, and grope in vain, For children born of her pain. Children dazed or dead! When she in all her virginal pride First trod on the mountain’s head What stir ran through the countryside […]...
8. Myfanwy Kind o’er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy, White o’er the playpen the sheen of her dress, Fresh from the bathroom and soft in the nursery Soap scented fingers I long to caress. Were you a prefect and head of your dormit’ry? Were you a hockey girl, tennis or gym? Who was your favourite? Who had […]...
9. Vintage I will mix me a drink of stars, Large stars with polychrome needles, Small stars jetting maroon and crimson, Cool, quiet, green stars. I will tear them out of the sky, And squeeze them over an old silver cup, And I will pour the cold scorn of my Beloved into it, So that my drink […]...
10. When Death Comes When death comes Like the hungry bear in autumn; When death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse To buy me, and snaps the purse shut; When death comes Like the measle-pox When death comes Like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, I want to step through the door full of curiosity, […]...
11. Inscription for the Ceiling of a Bedroom Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there, Weep and laugh and sweat and swear, Hear a song, or watch a stage, Leave some words upon a page, Claim a foe, or hail […]...
12. Child In Red Sometimes she walks through the village in her little red dress All absorbed in restraining herself, And yet, despite herself, she seems to move According to the rhythm of her life to come. She runs a bit, hesitates, stops, Half-turns around… And, all while dreaming, shakes her head For or against. Then she dances a […]...
13. Docker There, in the corner, staring at his drink. The cap juts like a gantry’s crossbeam, Cowling plated forehead and sledgehead jaw. Speech is clamped in the lips’ vice. That fist would drop a hammer on a Catholic – Oh yes, that kind of thing could start again; The only Roman collar he tolerates Smiles all […]...
14. A Net to Snare the Moonlight [What the Man of Faith said] The dew, the rain and moonlight All prove our Father’s mind. The dew, the rain and moonlight Descend to bless mankind. Come, let us see that all men Have land to catch the rain, Have grass to snare the spheres of dew, And fields spread for the grain. Yea, […]...
15. Summons Keep me from going to sleep too soon Or if I go to sleep too soon Come wake me up. Come any hour Of night. Come whistling up the road. Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door. Make me get out of bed and come And let you in and light a light. Tell […]...
16. Conversation We smile at each other And I lean back against the wicker couch. How does it feel to be dead? I say. You touch my knees with your blue fingers. And when you open your mouth, A ball of yellow light falls to the floor And burns a hole through it. Don’t tell me, I […]...
17. A Nervous Governor-General We read in the press that Lord Northcote is here To take up Lord Tennyson’s mission. ‘Tis pleasant to find they have sent us a Peer, And a man of exalted position. It’s his business to see that the Radical horde From loyalty’s path does not swerve us; But his tastes, and the task, don’t […]...
18. They Feed They Lion Out of burlap sacks, out of bearing butter, Out of black bean and wet slate bread, Out of the acids of rage, the candor of tar, Out of creosote, gasoline, drive shafts, wooden dollies, They Lion grow. Out of the gray hills Of industrial barns, out of rain, out of bus ride, West Virginia to […]...
19. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 11. Calm is the morn without a sound Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thro’ the faded leaf The chestnut pattering to the ground: Calm and deep peace on this high wold, And on these dews that drench the furze. And all the silvery gossamers That twinkle into green and gold: Calm and […]...
20. Freedom of Love (Translated from the French by Edouard Rodti) My wife with the hair of a wood fire With the thoughts of heat lightning With the waist of an hourglass With the waist of an otter in the teeth of a tiger My wife with the lips of a cockade and of a bunch of stars of […]...
21. Jazz Fantasia DRUM on your drums, batter on your banjoes, sob on the long cool winding saxophones. Go to it, O jazzmen. Sling your knuckles on the bottoms of the happy tin pans, let your trombones ooze, and go hushahusha-hush with the slippery sand-paper. Moan like an autumn wind high in the lonesome tree-tops, moan soft like […]...
22. The Has-Been A STONE face higher than six horses stood five thousand Years gazing at the world seeming to clutch a secret. A boy passes and throws a niggerhead that chips off the End of the nose from the stone face; he lets fly a Mud ball that spatters the right eye and cheek of the Old […]...
23. The Progress of Poetry The Farmer’s Goose, who in the Stubble, Has fed without Restraint, or Trouble; Grown fat with Corn and Sitting still, Can scarce get o’er the Barn-Door Sill: And hardly waddles forth, to cool Her Belly in the neighb’ring Pool: Nor loudly cackles at the Door; For Cackling shews the Goose is poor. But when she […]...
24. I worked for chaff and earning Wheat I worked for chaff and earning Wheat Was haughty and betrayed. What right had Fields to arbitrate In matters ratified? I tasted Wheat and hated Chaff And thanked the ample friend Wisdom is more becoming viewed At distance than at hand....
25. Of Brussels it was not Of Brussels it was not Of Kidderminster? Nay The Winds did buy it of the Woods They sold it unto me It was a gentle price The poorest could afford It was within the frugal purse Of Beggar or of Bird Of small and spicy Yards In hue a mellow Dun Of Sunshine and of […]...
26. The Haymakers' Song HERE’S to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink! That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink! To him that mows and makes it, That scatters it and shakes it, That turns, and teds, and rakes it, Clink, jugs, clink! Now here ‘s to him that stacks it, Drink, lads, drink! That thrashes […]...
27. The Victims Of The Little Box Not even in a dream Should you have anything to do With the little box If you saw her full of stars once You’d wake up Without heart or soul in your chest If you slid your tongue Into her keyhole once You’d wake up with a hole in your forehead If you ground her […]...
28. On No Work Of Words On no work of words now for three lean months in the bloody Belly of the rich year and the big purse of my body I bitterly take to task my poverty and craft: To take to give is all, return what is hungrily given Puffing the pounds of manna up through the dew to […]...
29. It's Raining In Love I don’t know what it is, but I distrust myself when I start to like a girl a lot. It makes me nervous. I don’t say the right things or perhaps I start to examine, evaluate, compute what I am saying. If I say, “Do you think it’s going to rain?” and she says, “I […]...
30. The Blackbirds Are Rough Today lonely as a dry and used orchard Spread over the earth For use and surrender. Shot down like an ex-pug selling Dailies on the corner. Taken by tears like An aging chorus girl Who has gotten her last check. A hanky is in order your lord your Worship. The blackbirds are rough today Like Ingrown […]...
31. The Sunderland Calamity ‘Twas in the town of Sunderland, and in the year of 1883, That about 200 children were launch’d into eternity While witnessing an entertainment in Victoria Hall, While they, poor little innocents, to God for help did call. The entertainment consisted of conjuring, and the ghost illusion play, Also talking waxworks, and living marionettes, and […]...
32. Phizzog standing in front of a mirror You recall it said: To hinge upon time is self-delusion Tomorrows and days after, Longevity or ephemeron Are mere matters of illusion At twilight or dawn Being singularly alone, Or with a once-beloved one, You realise that sweet words, too, Have finally abandoned you A few ripples of the […]...
33. I'll clutch and clutch I’ll clutch and clutch Next One Might be the golden touch Could take it Diamonds Wait I’m diving just a little late But stars go slow for night I’ll string you in fine Necklace Tiaras make of some Wear you on Hem Loop up a Countess with you Make a Diadem and mend my old […]...
34. Letter To N. Y For Louise Crane In your next letter I wish you’d say Where you are going and what you are doing; How are the plays and after the plays What other pleasures you’re pursuing: Taking cabs in the middle of the night, Driving as if to save your soul Where the road gose round and round […]...
35. Song of the Wheat We have sung the song of the droving days, Of the march of the travelling sheep; By silent stages and lonely ways Thin, white battalions creep. But the man who now by the land would thrive Must his spurs to a plough-share beat. Is there ever a man in the world alive To sing the […]...
36. I Love The Naked Ages Long Ago I love the naked ages long ago When statues were gilded by Apollo, When men and women of agility Could play without lies and anxiety, And the sky lovingly caressed their spines, As it exercised its noble machine. Fertile Cybele, mother of nature, then, Would not place on her daughters a burden, But, she-wolf sharing […]...
37. Work And Contemplation The woman singeth at her spinning-wheel A pleasant chant, ballad or barcarole; She thinketh of her song, upon the whole, Far more than of her flax; and yet the reel Is full, and artfully her fingers feel With quick adjustment, provident control, The lines too subtly twisted to unroll Out to a perfect thread. I […]...
38. EFFECTS AT A DISTANCE THE queen in the lofty hall takes her place, The tapers around her are flaming; She speaks to the page: “With a nimble pace Go, fetch me my purse for gaming. ‘Tis lying, I’ll pledge, On my table’s edge.” Each nerve the nimble boy straineth, And the end of the castle soon gaineth. The fairest […]...
39. Solitude So many stones have been thrown at me, That I’m not frightened of them anymore, And the pit has become a solid tower, Tall among tall towers. I thank the builders, May care and sadness pass them by. From here I’ll see the sunrise earlier, Here the sun’s last ray rejoices. And into the windows […]...
40. EPIPHANIAS THE three holy kings with their star’s bright ray, They eat and they drink, but had rather not pay; They like to eat and drink away, They eat and drink, but had rather not pay. The three holy kings have all come here, In number not four, but three they appear; And if a fourth […]...