The Cinnamon Peeler

Related poetry:

1. Dark Prophecy: I Sing Of Shine And, yeah brothers While white America sings about the unsinkable molly brown (who was hustling the titanic When it went down) I sing to thee of Shine The stoker who was hip enough to flee the fucking ship And let the white folks drown With screams on their lips (jumped his black ass into the […]...
2. The Free-Selector's Daughter I met her on the Lachlan Side A darling girl I thought her, And ere I left I swore I’d win The free-selector’s daughter. I milked her father’s cows a month, I brought the wood and water, I mended all the broken fence, Before I won the daughter. I listened to her father’s yarns, I […]...
3. Iseult Of Brittany So delicate my hands, and long, They might have been my pride. And there were those to make them song Who for their touch had died. Too frail to cup a heart within, Too soft to hold the free- How long these lovely hands have been A bitterness to me!...
4. Tell He opens the scullery door, and a sudden rush Of wind, as raw as raw, Brushes past him as he himself will brush Past the stacks of straw That stood in earlier for Crow Or Comanche tepees hung with scalps But tonight past muster, row upon row, For the foothills of the Alps. He opens […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. Suzanne Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river You can hear the boats go by You can spend the night beside her And you know that she’s half crazy But that’s why you want to be there And she feeds you tea and oranges That come all the way from China And just […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. The Borders To say that she came into me, From another world, is not true. Nothing comes into the universe And nothing leaves it. My mother-I mean my daughter did not Enter me. She began to exist Inside me-she appeared within me. And my mother did not enter me. When she lay down, to pray, on me, […]...
9. Anchor Song Heh! Walk her round. Heave, ah heave her short again! Over, snatch her over, there, and hold her on the pawl. Loose all sail, and brace your yards back and full Ready jib to pay her off and heave short all! Well, ah fare you well; we can stay no more with you, my love […]...
10. Lois Spears Here lies the body of Lois Spears, Born Lois Fluke, daughter of Willard Fluke, Wife of Cyrus Spears, Mother of Myrtle and Virgil Spears, Children with clear eyes and sound limbs (I was born blind) I was the happiest of women As wife, mother and housekeeper, Caring for my loved ones, And making my home […]...
11. The Pobble Who Has No Toes The Pobble who has no toes Had once as many as we; When they said “Some day you may lose them all;” He replied “Fish, fiddle-de-dee!” And his Aunt Jobiska made him drink Lavender water tinged with pink, For she said “The World in general knows There’s nothing so good for a Pobble’s toes!” The […]...
12. Sweet Torture My melancholy was gold dust in your hands; On your long hands I scattered my life; My sweetnesses remained clutched in your hands; Now I am a vial of perfume, emptied How much sweet torture quietly suffered, When, my soul wrested with shadowy sadness, She who knows the tricks, I passed the days Kissing the […]...
13. Population Drifts NEW-MOWN hay smell and wind of the plain made her A woman whose ribs had the power of the hills in Them and her hands were tough for work and there Was passion for life in her womb. She and her man crossed the ocean and the years that Marked their faces saw them haggling […]...
14. A Tragedy Among his books he sits all day To think and read and write; He does not smell the new-mown hay, The roses red and white. I walk among them all alone, His silly, stupid wife; The world seems tasteless, dead and done – An empty thing is life. At night his window casts a square […]...
15. Mother’s Smile For my wife, Elizabeth Harris Burch, and my mother, Christine Ena Burch There never was a fonder smile Than mother’s smile, no softer touch Than mother’s touch. So sleep awhile And know she loves you more than “much. ” So more than “much, ” much more than “all. ” Though tender words, these do not […]...
16. The Lost Pilot for my father, 1922-1944 Your face did not rot Like the others the co-pilot, For example, I saw him Yesterday. His face is corn- Mush: his wife and daughter, The poor ignorant people, stare As if he will compose soon. He was more wronged than Job. But your face did not rot Like the others […]...
17. The Beginning Some day I shall rise and leave my friends And seek you again through the world’s far ends, You whom I found so fair (Touch of your hands and smell of your hair!), My only god in the days that were. My eager feet shall find you again, Though the sullen years and the mark […]...
18. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet I Hold your mad hands! for ever on your plain Must the gorged vulture clog his beak with blood? For ever must your Nigers tainted flood Roll to the ravenous shark his banquet slain? Hold your mad hands! what daemon prompts to rear The arm of Slaughter? on your savage shore Can hell-sprung Glory claim the […]...
19. The Sorrows of the Blind Pity the sorrows of the poor blind, For they can but little comfort find; As they walk along the street, They know not where to put their feet. They are deprived of that earthly joy Of seeing either man, woman, or boy; Sad and lonely through the world they go, Not knowing a friend from […]...
20. Other Lives And Dimensions And Finally A Love Poem My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers of my palms tell me so. Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish at the same time. I think Praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think staying up and waiting For paintings to sigh is science. In another […]...
21. The Stupid Jerk I’m Obsessed With The stupid jerk I’m obsessed with Stands so close to me I can feel his breath On my neck And smell The way he would smell If we slept together Because he is the stupid jerk I’m obsessed with And that is his primary function in life To be a stupid jerk I can obsess […]...
22. The Helmet All the way On the road to Gary He could see Where the sky shone Just out of reach And smell the rich Smell of work As strong as money, But when he got there The night was over. People were going To work and back, The sidewalks were lakes No one walked on, The […]...
23. The Song of Quoodle They haven’t got no noses, The fallen sons of Eve; Even the smell of roses Is not what they supposes; But more than mind discloses And more than men believe. They haven’t got no noses, They cannot even tell When door and darkness closes The park a Jew encloses, Where even the law of Moses […]...
24. Blind Bartimeus Blind Bartimeus at the gates Of Jericho in darkness waits; He hears the crowd; he hears a breath Say, “It is Christ of Nazareth!” And calls, in tones of agony, The thronging multitudes increase; Blind Bartimeus, hold thy peace! But still, above the noisy crowd, The beggar’s cry is shrill and loud; Until they say, […]...
25. Restlessness At the open door of the room I stand and look at the night, Hold my hand to catch the raindrops, that slant into sight, Arriving grey from the darkness above suddenly into the light of the room. I will escape from the hollow room, the box of light, And be out in the bewildering […]...
26. Flying at Forty You call me Courageous, I who grew up Gnawing on books, As some kids Gnaw On bubble gum, Who married disastrously Not once But three times, Yet have a lovely daughter I would not undo For all the dope In California. Fear was my element, Fear my contagion. I swam in it Till I became […]...
27. Privacy Oh you who are shy of the popular eye, (Though most of us seek to survive it) Just think of the goldfish who wanted to die Because she could never be private. There are pebbles and reeds for aquarium needs Of eel and of pike who are bold fish; But who gives a thought to […]...
28. Ad Nepotem O NEPOS, twice my neigh(b)our (since at home We’re door by door, by Flora’s temple dome; And in the country, still conjoined by fate, Behold our villas standing gate by gate), Thou hast a daughter, dearer far than life – Thy image and the image of thy wife. Thy image and thy wife’s, and be […]...
29. The Sentry We’d found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew, And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell Hammered on top, but never quite burst through. Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime Kept slush waist high, that rising hour by hour, Choked up the steps too thick with clay to climb. What murk of […]...
30. Jealousy When I see you, who were so wise and cool, Gazing with silly sickness on that fool You’ve given your love to, your adoring hands Touch his so intimately that each understands, I know, most hidden things; and when I know Your holiest dreams yield to the stupid bow Of his red lips, and that […]...
31. A Holiday The Wife The house is like a garden, The children are the flowers, The gardener should come methinks And walk among his bowers, Oh! lock the door on worry And shut your cares away, Not time of year, but love and cheer, Will make a holiday. The Husband Impossible! You women do not know The […]...
32. Cuba My eldest sister arrived home that morning In her white muslin evening dress. ‘Who the hell do you think you are Running out to dances in next to nothing? As though we hadn’t enough bother With the world at war, if not at an end.’ My father was pounding the breakfast-table. ‘Those Yankees were touch […]...
33. A Valentine For Hands names, silence-quietest minutes (building like rain or returning like seas) Since they have touched me, your warm hands have sown Gentlest sounds, touches and hours (or, building like rain, turning, like seas) (building like rain, or returning like seas) Ripples and springs-the shiniest rivers- Since they have known me your warm hands have gathered Smallest, […]...
34. Just wasn't right You lift the lid in awe, a seat and lid Upon an inside stall where you can go, Quite unlike the outside loo at home, But oh the smell, the hellish smell So rank and raw – you see some objects In there clearly, disbelieving things you Really shouldn’t see; it is a step too […]...
35. Two In The Campagna I wonder how you feel to-day As I have felt since, hand in hand, We sat down on the grass, to stray In spirit better through the land, This morn of Rome and May? For me, I touched a thought, I know, Has tantalized me many times, (Like turns of thread the spiders throw Mocking […]...
36. My Tenants I never had a title-deed To my estate. But little heed Eyes give to me, when I walk by My fields, to see who occupy. Some clumsy men who lease and hire And cut my trees to feed their fire, Own all the land that I possess, And tax my tenants to distress. And if […]...
37. St. Roach For that I never knew you, I only learned to dread you, For that I never touched you, they told me you are filth, They showed me by every action to despise your kind; For that I saw my people making war on you, I could not tell you apart, one from another, For that […]...
38. Fear The host, he says that all is well And the fire-wood glow is bright; The food has a warm and tempting smell,- But on the window licks the night. Pile on the logs… Give me your hands, Friends! No,- it is not fright… But hold me… somewhere I heard demands… And on the window licks […]...
39. The Changeling ( From The Tent on the Beach ) FOR the fairest maid in Hampton They needed not to search, Who saw young Anna favor Come walking into church, Or bringing from the meadows, At set of harvest-day, The frolic of the blackbirds, The sweetness of the hay. Now the weariest of all mothers, The saddest two years’ bride, She scowls in the face […]...
40. A Baby In The House I knew that a baby was hid in that house, Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry; But the husband was tip-toeing ’round like a mouse, And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby; And there was a look on the face of the mother, That I knew could mean only one […]...