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1. For Harry (My College Room-mate who Died) He cut his hand and it bled, the flesh Inside was red and the hurt discounted the flood Of red and vibrant blood that pulsed From the wound. But he was a warrior, A son whose mien would not countenance the pain And he bound the wound in strips of flax And stalked from the […]...
2. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
3. Poem (You, my photographer, you, most aware) You, my photographer, you, most aware, Who climbed to the bridge when the iceberg struck, Climbed with your camera when the ship’s hull broke, And lighted your flashes and, standing passionate there, Wound the camera in the sudden burst’s flare, Shot the screaming women, and turned and took Pictures of the iceberg (as the ship’s […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. Vull a Man No, I’m a man, I’m vull a man, You beat my manhood, if you can. You’ll be a man if you can teake All steates that household life do meake. The love-toss’d child, a-croodlen loud, The bwoy a-screamen wild in play, The tall grown youth a-steppen proud, The father staid, the house’s stay. No ; […]...
6. FROM AN ALBUM OF 1604 HOPE provides wings to thought, and love to hope. Rise up to Cynthia, love, when night is clearest, And say, that as on high her figure changeth, So, upon earth, my joy decays and grows. And whisper in her ear with modest softness, How doubt oft hung its head, and truth oft wept. And oh […]...
7. Lines On A Young Lady's Photograph Album At last you yielded up the album, which Once open, sent me distracted. All your ages Matt and glossy on the thick black pages! Too much confectionery, too rich: I choke on such nutritious images. My swivel eye hungers from pose to pose In pigtails, clutching a reluctant cat; Or furred yourself, a sweet girl-graduate; […]...
8. To A Gentlewoman For A Friend No marvell if the Sunne’s bright eye Shower downe hott flames; that qualitie Still waytes on light; but when wee see Those sparkling balles of ebony Distil such heat, the gazer straight Stands so amazed at the sight As when the lightning makes a breach Through pitchie clouds: can lightning reach The marrowe hurting not […]...
9. The Reason Why I'm Fat I thought my father was far too fat – eagerly I told him so, If he was offended it didn’t show and I don’t recall Where that strange conversation went. Now I know He was offended – as I am too, it is not a jibe to Pass off lightly, no matter who accuses you […]...
10. The Old Man's Comforts and how he gained them You are old, Father William, the young man cried, The few locks which are left you are grey; You are hale, Father William, a hearty old man, Now tell me the reason I pray. In the days of my youth, Father William replied, I remember’d that youth would fly fast, And abused not my health […]...
11. Paul McNeely Dear Jane! dear winsome Jane! How you stole in the room (where I lay so ill) In your nurse’s cap and linen cuffs, And took my hand and said with a smile: “You are not so ill you’ll soon be well.” And how the liquid thought of your eyes Sank in my eyes like dew […]...
12. The Bandaged Shoulder He said that he had hurt himself on a wall or that he had fallen. But there was probably another reason For the wounded and bandaged shoulder. With a somewhat abrupt movement, To bring down from a shelf some Photographs that he wanted to see closely, The bandage was untied and a little blood ran. […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. In The Well My father cinched the rope, A noose around my waist, And lowered me into The darkness. I could taste My fear. It tasted first Of dark, then earth, then rot. I swung and struck my head And at that moment got Another then: then blood, Which spiked my mouth with iron. Hand over hand, my […]...
15. Was It You? “Hullo, young Jones! with your tie so gay And your pen behind your ear; Will you mark my cheque in the usual way? For I’m overdrawn, I fear.” Then you look at me in a manner bland, As you turn your ledger’s leaves, And you hand it back with a soft white hand, And the […]...
16. Some time Last night, my darling, as you slept, I thought I heard you sigh, And to your little crib I crept, And watched a space thereby; And then I stooped and kissed your brow, For oh! I love you so You are too young to know it now, But some time you shall know! Some time […]...
17. Mid-Term Break I sat all morning in the college sick bay Counting bells knelling classes to a close. At two o’clock our neighbors drove me home. In the porch I met my father crying He had always taken funerals in his stride And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow. The baby cooed and laughed […]...
18. S. I. W “I will to the King, And offer him consolation in his trouble, For that man there has set his teeth to die, And being one that hates obedience, Discipline, and orderliness of life, I cannot mourn him.” W. B. Yeats. Patting goodbye, doubtless they told the lad He’d always show the Hun a brave man’s […]...
19. Turns And Movies: The Cornet When she came out, that white little Russian dancer, With her bright hair, and her eyes, so young, so young, He suddenly lost his leader, and all the players, And only heard an immortal music sung,- Of dryads flashing in the green woods of April, On cobwebs trembing over the deep, wet grass: Fleeing their […]...
20. Smiles Smile a little, smile a little, As you go along, Not alone when life is pleasant, But when things go wrong. Care delights to see you frowning, Loves to hear you sigh; Turn a smiling face upon her – Quick the dame will fly. Smile a little, smile a little, All along the road; Every […]...
21. Introspection If you go deep Into the heart What do you find there? Fear, fear, Fear of the jaws of the rock, Fear of the teeth and splinters of iron that tear Flesh from the bone, and the moist Blood, running unfelt From the wound, and the hand Suddenly moist and red. If you go deep […]...
22. Beautiful Old Age It ought to be lovely to be old To be full of the peace that comes of experience And wrinkled ripe fulfilment. The wrinkled smile of completeness that follows a life Lived undaunted and unsoured with accepted lies They would ripen like apples, and be scented like pippins In their old age. Soothing, old people […]...
23. The Hand That Signed The Paper The hand that signed the paper felled a city; Five sovereign fingers taxed the breath, Doubled the globe of dead and halved a country; These five kings did a king to death. The mighty hand leads to a sloping shoulder, The finger joints are cramped with chalk; A goose’s quill has put an end to […]...
24. I’m A Fool To Love You Some folks will tell you the blues is a woman, Some type of supernatural creature. My mother would tell you, if she could, About her life with my father, A strange and sometimes cruel gentleman. She would tell you about the choices A young black woman faces. Is falling in love with some man A […]...
25. Lochinvar O young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, He rode all unarm’d, and he rode all alone. So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. He […]...
26. Hymn To Life The hair falling on your forehead suddenly lifted. Suddenly something stirred on the ground. The trees are whispering in the dark. Your bare arms will be cold. Far off where we can’t see, the moon must be rising. It hasn’t reached us yet, slipping through the leaves to light up your shoulder. But I know […]...
27. Golden Days Another day of toil and strife, Another page so white, Within that fateful Log of Life That I and all must write; Another page without a stain To make of as I may, That done, I shall not see again Until the Judgment Day. Ah, could I, could I backward turn The pages of that […]...
28. A Rusty Nail I ran a nail into my hand, The wound was hard to heal; So bitter was the pain to stand I thought how it would feel, To have spikes thrust through hands and feet, Impaled by hammer beat. Then hoisted on a cross of oak Against the sullen sky, With all about the jeering follk […]...
29. The Child Is Father To The Man ‘The child is father to the man.’ How can he be? The words are wild. Suck any sense from that who can: ‘The child is father to the man.’ No; what the poet did write ran, ‘The man is father to the child.’ ‘The child is father to the man!’ How can he be? The […]...
30. Hymn 123 The repenting prodigal. Luke 15:13,etc. Behold the wretch whose lust and wine Had wasted his estate, He begs a share among the swine, To taste the husks they eat! “I die with hunger here,” he cries, “I starve in foreign lands; My father’s house has large supplies And bounteous are his hands. “I’ll go, and […]...
31. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. To A Friend Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen men-and The baby hard to find a father for! What will the good Father in Heaven say To the local judge if he do not solve this problem? A little two-pointed smile and-pouff!- The law is changed into a mouthful of phrases....
34. Cripples And Other Stories My doctor, the comedian I called you every time And made you laugh yourself When I wrote this silly rhyme… Each time I give lectures or gather in the grants you send me off to boarding school in training pants. God damn it, father-doctor, I’m really thirty-six. I see dead rats in the toilet. I’m […]...
35. The Player Piano I ate pancakes one night in a Pancake House Run by a lady my age. She was gay. When I told her that I came from Pasadena She laughed and said, “I lived in Pasadena When Fatty Arbuckle drove the El Molino bus.” I felt that I had met someone from home. No, not Pasadena, […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. Elegy For Jane (My student, thrown by a horse) I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils; And her quick look, a sidelong pickerel smile; And how, once startled into talk, the light syllables leaped for her, And she balanced in the delight of her thought, A wren, happy, tail into the wind, Her song trembling the […]...
38. XIII. O Time! Who Know'st a Lenient Hand to Lay O TIME! who know’st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow’s wound, and slowly thence, (Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) Stealest the long-forgotten pang away; On Thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o’er all my soul held […]...
39. Time and Grief O TIME! who know’st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow’s wound, and slowly thence (Lulling to sad repose the weary sense) The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That flows in vain o’er all my soul […]...
40. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...