Letter To My Wife

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1. Letter Of Recommendation From My Father To My Future Wife During the war, I was in China. Every night we blew the world to hell. The sky was purple and yellow Like his favorite shirt. I was in India once On the Ganges in a tourist boat. There were soldiers, Some women with parasols. A dead body floated by Going in the opposite direction. My […]...
2. The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter After Li Po While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead I played at the front gate, pulling flowers. You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse, You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. And we went on living in the village of Chokan: Two small people, without dislike or suspicion. […]...
3. The Sea-Wife There dwells a wife by the Northern Gate, And a wealthy wife is she; She breeds a breed o’ rovin’ men And casts them over sea. And some are drowned in deep water, And some in sight o’ shore, And word goes back to the weary wife And ever she sends more. For since that […]...
4. 511. Song-O aye my wife she dang me Chorus-O aye my wife she dang me, An’ aft my wife she bang’d me, If ye gie a woman a’ her will, Gude faith! she’ll soon o’er-gang ye. ON peace an’ rest my mind was bent, And, fool I was! I married; But never honest man’s intent Sane cursedly miscarried. O aye my wife, &c. […]...
5. Wife Killer He killed his wife at night. He had tried once or twice in the daylight But she refused to die. In darkness the deed was done, Not crudely with a hammer-hard gun Or strangler’s black kid gloves on. She just ceased being alive, Not there to interfere or connive, Linger, leave or arrive. It seemed […]...
6. Going to Him! Happy letter! Going to Him! Happy letter! Tell Him Tell Him the page I didn’t write Tell Him I only said the Syntax And left the Verb and the pronoun out Tell Him just how the fingers hurried Then how they waded slow slow And then you wished you had eyes in your pages So you could […]...
7. Her Letter “I’m taking pen in hand this night, and hard it is for me; My poor old fingers tremble so, my hand is stiff and slow, And even with my glasses on I’m troubled sore to see. . . . You’d little know your mother, boy; you’d little, little know. You mind how brisk and bright […]...
8. The Wife of Flanders Low and brown barns, thatched and repatched and tattered, Where I had seven sons until to-day, A little hill of hay your spur has scattered. . . . This is not Paris. You have lost your way. You, staring at your sword to find it brittle, Surprised at the surprise that was your plan, Who, […]...
9. The Wife's Will SIT still­a word­a breath may break (As light airs stir a sleeping lake,) The glassy calm that soothes my woes, The sweet, the deep, the full repose. O leave me not! for ever be Thus, more than life itself to me! Yes, close beside thee, let me kneel­ Give me thy hand that I may […]...
10. A Letter to Her Husband Absent upon Public Employment My head, my heart, mine eyes, my life, nay more, My joy, my magazine, of earthly store, If two be one, as surely thou and I, How stayest thou there, whilst I at Ipswich lie? So many steps, head from the heart to sever, If but a neck, soon should we […]...
11. 383. Song-My Wife's a winsome wee thing Chorus.-She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a lo’esome wee thing, This dear wee wife o’ mine. I NEVER saw a fairer, I never lo’ed a dearer, And neist my heart I’ll wear her, For fear my jewel tine, She is a winsome, &c. The warld’s wrack we […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. 370. Song-Sic a Wife as Willie had WILLIE WASTLE dwalt on Tweed, The spot they ca’d it Linkumdoddie; Willie was a wabster gude, Could stown a clue wi’ ony body: He had a wife was dour and din, O Tinkler Maidgie was her mither; Sic a wife as Willie had, I wad na gie a button for her! She has an e’e, […]...
14. The Letter What is she writing? Watch her now, How fast her fingers move! How eagerly her youthful brow Is bent in thought above! Her long curls, drooping, shade the light, She puts them quick aside, Nor knows, that band of crystals bright, Her hasty touch untied. It slips adown her silken dress, Falls glittering at her […]...
15. Paul's Wife To drive Paul out of any lumber camp All that was needed was to say to him, “How is the wife, Paul?” and he’d disappear. Some said it was because be bad no wife, And hated to be twitted on the subject; Others because he’d come within a day Or so of having one, and […]...
16. Lot's Wife And the just man trailed God’s shining agent, Over a black mountain, in his giant track, While a restless voice kept harrying his woman: “It’s not too late, you can still look back At the red towers of your native Sodom, The square where once you sang, the spinning-shed, At the empty windows set in […]...
17. The Woman and the Wife I THE EXPLANATION “You thought we knew,” she said, “but we were wrong. This we can say, the rest we do not say; Nor do I let you throw yourself away Because you love me. Let us both be strong, And we shall find in sorrow, before long, Only the price Love ruled that we […]...
18. Letter Home New Orleans, November 1910 Four weeks have passed since I left, and still I must write to you of no work. I’ve worn down The soles and walked through the tightness Of my new shoes calling upon the merchants, Their offices bustling. All the while I kept thinking My plain English and good writing would […]...
19. How Did You Meet Your Wife? Swimming the English Channel, Struggling to make it to Calais, I swam into Laura halfway across. My body oiled for warmth, Black rubber cap on my head, Eyes hidden behind goggles, I was exhausted, ready to drown, When I saw her coming toward me, Bobbing up and down between waves, Effortlessly doing a breaststroke, Heading […]...
20. LETTER FROM LEEDS Would ‘any woman’ find me difficult to live with? My tastes are simple: space for several thousand books, The smoke from my pipe stuffed with aromatic Balkan Sobranie, A leftover from the Sixties, frequent brief absences to fulfil My duties as a carer, unending phone calls And the unenviable reputation as England’s worst or best […]...
21. A Letter To My Aunt A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry To you, my aunt, who would explore The literary Chankley Bore, The paths are hard, for you are not A literary Hottentot But just a kind and cultured dame Who knows not Eliot (to her shame). Fie on you, aunt, that you should […]...
22. Love Letter Written In A Burning Building I am in a crate, the crate that was ours, Full of white shirts and salad greens, The icebox knocking at our delectable knocks, And I wore movies in my eyes, And you wore eggs in your tunnel, And we played sheets, sheets, sheets All day, even in the bathtub like lunatics. But today I […]...
23. The Wife “Tell Annie I’ll be home in time To help her with her Christmas-tree.” That’s what he wrote, and hark! the chime Of Christmas bells, and where is he? And how the house is dark and sad, And Annie’s sobbing on my knee! The page beside the candle-flame With cruel type was overfilled; I read and […]...
24. A Letter from Home She sends me news of blue jays, frost, Of stars and now the harvest moon That rides above the stricken hills. Lightly, she speaks of cold, of pain, And lists what is already lost. Here where my life seems hard and slow, I read of glowing melons piled Beside the door, and baskets filled With […]...
25. An Epitaph upon Husband and Wife TO these whom death again did wed This grave ‘s the second marriage-bed. For though the hand of Fate could force ‘Twixt soul and body a divorce, It could not sever man and wife, Because they both lived but one life. Peace, good reader, do not weep; Peace, the lovers are asleep. They, sweet turtles, […]...
26. Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote Her Name One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. “Vain man,” said she, “that dost in vain assay, A mortal thing so to immortalize; For I myself shall like […]...
27. The Avaricious Wife And Tricking Gallant WHO knows the world will never feel surprise, When men are duped by artful women’s eves; Though death his weapon freely will unfold; Love’s pranks, we find, are ever ruled by gold. To vain coquettes I doubtless here allude; But spite of arts with which they’re oft endued; I hope to show (our honour to […]...
28. I'm "wife" I've finished that I’m “wife” I’ve finished that That other state I’m Czar I’m “Woman” now It’s safer so How odd the Girl’s life looks Behind this soft Eclipse I think that Earth feels so To folks in Heaven now This being comfort then That other kind was pain But why compare? I’m “Wife”! Stop there!...
29. Lord Walter's Wife I ‘But where do you go?’ said the lady, while both sat under the yew, And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-blue. II ‘Because I fear you,’ he answered; ‘because you are far too fair, And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your golfd-coloured hair.’ […]...
30. Pilate's Wife's Dream I’ve quenched my lamp, I struck it in that start Which every limb convulsed, I heard it fall­ The crash blent with my sleep, I saw depart Its light, even as I woke, on yonder wall; Over against my bed, there shone a gleam Strange, faint, and mingling also with my dream. It sunk, and […]...
31. To My Wife – With A Copy Of My Poems I can write no stately proem As a prelude to my lay; From a poet to a poem I would dare to say. For if of these fallen petals One to you seem fair, Love will waft it till it settles On your hair. And when wind and winter harden All the loveless land, It […]...
32. DEATH-LAMENT OF THE NOBLE WIFE OF ASAN AGA [From the Morlack.) WHAT is yonder white thing in the forest? Is it snow, or can it swans perchance be? Were it snow, ere this it had been melted, Were it swans, they all away had hastend. Snow, in truth, it is not, swans it is not, ‘Tis the shining tents of Asan Aga. He […]...
33. Dream Song 136: While his wife earned the living, Rabbi Henry While his wife earned the living, Rabbi Henry Studied the Torah, writing commentaries More likely to be burnt than printed. It was rumoured that they needed revision. Smiling, kissing, he bent his head not with ‘Please’ But with austere requests barely hinted, Like a dog with a bone he worried the Sacred Book And often […]...
34. Oh! Mr Best You're Very Bad Oh! Mr. Best, you’re very bad And all the world shall know it; Your base behaviour shall be sung By me, a tunefull Poet. You used to go to Harrowgate Each summer as it came, And why I pray should you refuse To go this year the same? The way’s as plain, the road’s as […]...
35. His Wife, The Painter There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks, And outside a large green bus swerves through traffic like Insanity sprung from a waving line; Turgenev, Turgenev, Says the radio, and Jane Austin, Jane Austin, too. “I am going to do her portrait on the 28th, while you are At work.” He […]...
36. Tim Turpin Tim Turpin he was gravel-blind, And ne’er had seen the skies : For Nature, when his head was made, Forgot to dot his eyes. So, like a Christmas pedagogue, Poor Tim was forced to do – Look out for pupils; for he had A vacancy for two. There’s some have specs to help their sight […]...
37. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 10: Letter From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon above black trees, and clouds, and Venus,- And turns to write. . . The clock, behind ticks softly. It is so long, indeed, since I have written,- Two years, almost, your last is turning yellow,- […]...
38. Before Sunset Love’s twilight wanes in heaven above, On earth ere twilight reigns: Ere fear may feel the chill thereof, Love’s twilight wanes. Ere yet the insatiate heart complains ‘Too much, and scarce enough,’ The lip so late athirst refrains. Soft on the neck of either dove Love’s hands let slip the reins: And while we look […]...
39. A Letter from Artemesia in the Town to Chloe in the Country Chloe, In verse by your command I write. Shortly you’ll bid me ride astride, and fight: These talents better with our sex agree Than lofty flights of dangerous poetry. Amongst the men, I mean the men of wit (At least they passed for such before they writ), How many bold adventureers for the bays, Proudly […]...
40. The Czar’s Last Christmas Letter: A Barn in the Urals You were never told, Mother, how old Illyawas drunk That last holiday, for five days and nights He stumbled through Petersburg forming A choir of mutes, he dressed them in pink ascension gowns And, then, sold Father’s Tirietz stallion so to rent A hall for his Christmas recital: the audience Was rowdy but Illya in […]...