The Red Shirt

Related poetry:

1. Shirt The back, the yoke, the yardage. Lapped seams, The nearly invisible stitches along the collar Turned in a sweatshop by Koreans or Malaysians Gossiping over tea and noodles on their break Or talking money or politics while one fitted This armpiece with its overseam to the band Of cuff I button at my wrist. The […]...
2. The Song of the Shirt With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch She sang the “Song of the Shirt.” “Work! work! work! While the cock is crowing aloof! And work […]...
3. Shirt I remember once I ran after you and tagged the fluttering shirt of you in the wind. Once many days ago I drank a glassful of something and the picture of you shivered and slid on top of the stuff. And again it was nobody else but you I heard in the singing voice of […]...
4. The Orphan My father and mother are dead, Nor friend, nor relation I know; And now the cold earth is their bed, And daisies will over them grow. I cast my eyes into the tomb, The sight made me bitterly cry; I said, “And is this the dark room, Where my father and mother must lie?” I […]...
5. Last Week Oh, the new-chum went to the backblock run, But he should have gone there last week. He tramped ten miles with a loaded gun, But of turkey of duck saw never a one, For he should have been there last week, They said, There were flocks of ’em there last week. He wended his way […]...
6. To A Stuffed Shirt On the tide you ride head high, Like a whale ‘mid little fishes; I should envy you as I Help my wife to wash the dishes. Yet frock-coat and stove-pipe hat Cannot hide your folds of fat. You are reckoned a success, And the public praise you win; There’s your picture in the Press, Pouchy […]...
7. Smoke Last summer, lazing by the sea, I met a most entrancing creature, Her black eyes quite bewildered me – She had a Spanish cast of feature. She often smoked a cigarette, And did it in the cutest fashion. Before a week passed by she set My young heart in a raging passion. I swore I […]...
8. Buttons I HAVE been watching the war map slammed up for Advertising in front of the newspaper office. Buttons red and yellow buttons blue and black buttons Are shoved back and forth across the map. A laughing young man, sunny with freckles, Climbs a ladder, yells a joke to somebody in the crowd, And then fixes […]...
9. Telephoning In Mexican Sunlight Talking with my beloved in New York I stood at the outdoor public telephone In Mexican sunlight, in my purple shirt. Someone had called it a man/woman Shirt. The phrase irked me. But then I remembered that Rainer Maria Rilke, who until he was seven wore Dresses and had long yellow hair, Wrote that the […]...
10. The Ballad Of Father O'Hart Good Father John O’Hart In penal days rode out To a Shoneen who had free lands And his own snipe and trout. In trust took he John’s lands; Sleiveens were all his race; And he gave them as dowers to his daughters. And they married beyond their place. But Father John went up, And Father […]...
11. An Old-Fashioned Garden Strange, is it not? She was making her garden, Planting the old-fashioned flowers that day- Bleeding-hearts tender and bachelors-buttons- Spreading the seeds in the old-fashioned way. Just in the old fashioned way, too, our quarrel Grew until, angrily, she set me free- Planting, indeed, bleeding hearts for the two of us,- Ordaining bachelor’s buttons for […]...
12. Hallelujah: A Sestina A wind’s word, the Hebrew Hallelujah. I wonder they never gave it to a boy (Hal for short) boy with wind-wild hair. It means Praise God, as well it should since praise Is what God’s for. Why didn’t they call my father Hallelujah instead of Ebenezer? Eben, of course, but christened Ebenezer, Product of Nova […]...
13. Coming Close Take this quiet woman, she has been Standing before a polishing wheel For over three hours, and she lacks Twenty minutes before she can take A lunch break. Is she a woman? Consider the arms as they press The long brass tube against the buffer, They are striated along the triceps, The three heads of […]...
14. The Wreck of the Golfer It was the Bondi golfing man Drove off from the golf house tee, And he had taken his little daughter To bear him company. “Oh, Father, why do you swing the club And flourish it such a lot?” “You watch it fly o’er the fences high!” And he tried with a brassey shot. “Oh, Father, […]...
15. Louse Hunting Nudes stark and glistening, Yelling in lurid glee. Grinning faces And raging limbs Whirl over the floor one fire. For a shirt verminously busy Yon soldier tore from his throat, with oaths Godhead might shrink at, but not the lice. And soon the shirt was aflare Over the candle he’d lit while we lay. Then […]...
16. Apostrophe Of RISPAH. (who had been the concubine of King SAUL) when DAVID hanged her children, because their father had done amiss. From morn to eve from eve to rosy morn, On this bleak rock I’ll lay me all forlorn; Here will I stay, tho’ tempests frown around, Fierce lightnings glare, or earthquakes rock the ground. […]...
17. The Pact We played dolls in that house where Father staggered with the Thanksgiving knife, where Mother wept at noon into her one ounce of Cottage cheese, praying for the strength not to Kill herself. We kneeled over the Rubber bodies, gave them baths Carefully, scrubbed their little Orange hands, wrapped them up tight, Said goodnight, never […]...
18. At Bessemer 19 years old and going nowhere, I got a ride to Bessemer and walked The night road toward Birmingham Passing dark groups of men cursing The end of a week like every week. Out of town I found a small grove Of trees, high narrow pines, and I Sat back against the trunk of one […]...
19. In Memory of Walter Savage Landor Back to the flower-town, side by side, The bright months bring, New-born, the bridegroom and the bride, Freedom and spring. The sweet land laughs from sea to sea, Filled full of sun; All things come back to her, being free; All things but one. In many a tender wheaten plot Flowers that were dead Live, […]...
20. Homer's Seeing-Eye Dog Most of the time he worked, a sort of sleep With a purpose, so far as I could tell. How he got from the dark of sleep To the dark of waking up I’ll never know; The lax sprawl sleep allowed him Began to set from the edges in, Like a custard, and then he […]...
21. The Hill Wife I. LONELINESS Her Word One ought not to have to care So much as you and I Care when the birds come round the house To seem to say good-bye; Or care so much when they come back With whatever it is they sing; The truth being we are as much Too glad for the […]...
22. A Quick One Before I Go There comes a time in every man’s life When he thinks: I have never had a single Original thought in my life Including this one & therefore I shall Eliminate all ideas from my poems Which shall consist of cats, rice, rain Baseball cards, fire escapes, hanging plants Red brick houses where I shall give […]...
23. The Two-Sided Man Much I owe to the Lands that grew More to the Lives that fed But most to Allah Who gave me two Separate sides to my head. Much I reflect on the Good and the True In the Faiths beneath the sun, But most to Allah Who gave me two Sides to my head, not […]...
24. You Are Old, Father William “You are old, Father william,” the young man said, “And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head Do you think, at your age, it is right? “In my youth,” Father William replied to his son, “I feared it might injure the brain; But now that I’m perfectly sure […]...
25. Ice Handler I KNOW an ice handler who wears a flannel shirt with Pearl buttons the size of a dollar, And he lugs a hundred-pound hunk into a saloon ice- Box, helps himself to cold ham and rye bread, Tells the bartender it’s hotter than yesterday and will be Hotter yet to-morrow, by Jesus, And is on […]...
26. The Gift “He gave her class. She gave him sex.” Katharine Hepburn on Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers He gave her money. She gave him head. He gave her tips on “aggressive growth” mutual funds. She gave him a red rose and a little statue of eros. He gave her Genesis 2 (21-23). She gave him Genesis […]...
27. The Shovel Man ON the street Slung on his shoulder is a handle half way across, Tied in a big knot on the scoop of cast iron Are the overalls faded from sun and rain in the ditches; Spatter of dry clay sticking yellow on his left sleeve And a flimsy shirt open at the throat, I know […]...
28. 136 Syllables At Rocky Mountain Dharma Center Tail turned to red sunset on a juniper crown a lone magpie cawks. Mad at Oryoki in the shrine-room Thistles blossomed late afternoon. Put on my shirt and took it off in the sun walking the path to lunch. A dandelion seed floats above the marsh grass with the mosquitos. At 4 A. M. the […]...
29. Across The Red Sky Across the red sky two birds flying, Flying with drooping wings. Silent and solitary their ominous flight. All day the triumphant sun with yellow banners Warred and warred with the earth, and when she yielded Stabbed her heart, gathered her blood in a chalice, Spilling it over the evening sky. When the dark plumaged birds […]...
30. God Gave To Me A Child In Part GOD gave to me a child in part, Yet wholly gave the father’s heart: Child of my soul, O whither now, Unborn, unmothered, goest thou? You came, you went, and no man wist; Hapless, my child, no breast you kist; On no dear knees, a privileged babbler, clomb, Nor knew the kindly feel of home. […]...
31. Yesterday My friend says I was not a good son You understand I say yes I understand He says I did not go To see my parents very often you know And I say yes I know Even when I was living in the same city he says Maybe I would go there once A month […]...
32. Hooray Say The Roses hooray say the roses, today is blamesday And we are red as blood. Hooray say the roses, today is Wednesday And we bloom wher soldiers fell And lovers too, And the snake at the word. Hooray say the roses, darkness comes All at once, like lights gone out, The sun leaves dark continents And rows […]...
33. Song of the Flower XXIII I am a kind word uttered and repeated By the voice of Nature; I am a star fallen from the Blue tent upon the green carpet. I am the daughter of the elements With whom Winter conceived; To whom Spring gave birth; I was Reared in the lap of Summer and I Slept in the […]...
34. Purple Martins IF we were such and so, the same as these, Maybe we too would be slingers and sliders, Tumbling half over in the water mirrors, Tumbling half over at the horse heads of the sun, Tumbling our purple numbers. Twirl on, you and your satin blue. Be water birds, be air birds. Be these purple […]...
35. Falltime GOLD of a ripe oat straw, gold of a southwest moon, Canada thistle blue and flimmering larkspur blue, Tomatoes shining in the October sun with red hearts, Shining five and six in a row on a wooden fence, Why do you keep wishes on your faces all day long, Wishes like women with half-forgotten lovers […]...
36. Charles Carville's Eyes A melanholy face Charles Carville had, But not so melancholy as it seemed, When once you knew him, for his mouth redeemed His insufficient eyes, forever sad: In them there was no life-glimpse, good or bad, Nor joy nor passion in them ever gleamed; His mouth was all of him that ever beamed, His eyes […]...
37. Bee! I'm expecting you! Bee! I’m expecting you! Was saying Yesterday To Somebody you know That you were due The Frogs got Home last Week Are settled, and at work Birds, mostly back The Clover warm and thick You’ll get my Letter by The seventeenth; Reply Or better, be with me Yours, Fly....
38. Not To Keep They sent him back to her. The letter came Saying… And she could have him. And before She could be sure there was no hidden ill Under the formal writing, he was in her sight, Living. They gave him back to her alive How else? They are not known to send the dead And not […]...
39. In California During the Gulf War Among the blight-killed eucalypts, among Trees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts, The yards and hillsides exhausted by five years of drought, Certain airy white blossoms punctually Reappeared, and dense clusters of pale pink, dark pink A delicate abundance. They seemed Like guests arriving joyfully on the accustomed Festival day, unaware of the year’s events, […]...
40. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...