The Demiurge's Laugh

Related poetry:

1. Why Did I Laugh Tonight? No Voice Will Tell Why did I laugh tonight? No voice will tell: No God, no Demon of severe response, Deigns to reply from Heaven or from Hell. Then to my human heart I turn at once. Heart! Thou and I are here, sad and alone; I say, why did I laugh? O mortal pain! O Darkness! Darkness! ever […]...
2. Two Truths Darling,’ he said, ‘I never meant To hurt you;’ and his eyes were wet. ‘I would not hurt you for the world: Am I to blame if I forget?’ ‘Forgive my selfish tears!’ she cried, ‘Forgive! I knew that it was not Because you meant to hurt me, sweet- I knew it was that you […]...
3. Forget Not Yet Forget not yet the tried intent Of such a truth as I have meant My great travail so gladly spent Forget not yet. Forget not yet when first began The weary life ye knew, since whan The suit, the service, none tell can, Forget not yet. Forget not yet the great assays, The cruel wrongs, […]...
4. Every Time I laugh Aloud (An Ode to Short People) Every time I laugh aloud, who springs to mind but Johnnie Howard? Cathartic laughter eases stress which Johnnie causes in excess, So when I hum acerbic lines of Randy Newman’s quirky song ‘don’t want no short people ’round here’, I am reminded there are valid grounds for jeering men With little minds. Newman claim’s ‘they’re […]...
5. Lover's Gifts LVIII: Things Throng and Laugh Things throng and laugh loud in the sky; the sands and dust dance And whirl like children. Man’s mind is aroused by their shouts; his Thoughts long to be the playmates of things. Our dreams, drifting in the stream of the vague, stretch their Arms to clutch the earth, – their efforts stiffen into bricks […]...
6. The Last Laugh ‘O Jesus Christ! I’m hit,’ he said; and died. Whether he vainly cursed, or prayed indeed, The Bullets chirped – ‘In vain! vain! vain!’ Machine-guns chuckled, ‘Tut-tut! Tut-tut!’ And the Big Gun guffawed. Another sighed, – ‘O Mother, Mother! Dad!’ Then smiled, at nothing, childlike, being dead. And the lofty Shrapnel-cloud Leisurely gestured, – ‘Fool!’ […]...
7. The Dark House Where a faint light shines alone, Dwells a Demon I have known. Most of you had better say “The Dark House,” and go your way. Do not wonder if I stay. For I know the Demon’s eyes And their lure that never dies. Banish all your fond alarms, For I know the foiling charms Of […]...
8. Crepuscule du Matin All night I wrestled with a memory Which knocked insurgent at the gates of thought. The crumbled wreck of years behind has wrought Its disillusion; now I only cry For peace, for power to forget the lie Which hope too long has whispered. So I sought The sleep which would not come, and night was […]...
9. To the Belgians O race that Cæsar knew, That won stern Roman praise, What land not envies you The laurel of these days? You build your cities rich Around each towered hall, – Without, the statued niche, Within, the pictured wall. Your ship-thronged wharves, your marts With gorgeious Venice vied, Peace and her famous arts Were yours: though […]...
10. Either if you are young and bright At one and twenty, go to a: If you are old and gray At one and sixty, see b: A) Scorn these lines, Forget the book Put it lofty Things that matter Are now and here: Pleasure and glory Indulge with time Wallow with energy B) Take down this […]...
11. To keep the ambience alive When you thanked me for the day I felt ashamed, I couldn’t say it wasn’t much because it was for you, I had enjoyed it too although it was another day Like any other day we’ve had before in our association. Most days are good, a few we do regret, perhaps we Would forget in […]...
12. The Man Who Knew The Dreamer visioned Life as it might be, And from his dream forthright a picture grew, A painting all the people thronged to see, And joyed therein till came the Man Who Knew, Saying: “‘Tis bad! Why do ye gape, ye fools! He painteth not according to the schools.” The Dreamer probed Life’s mystery of […]...
13. The Bell From Europe The tower bell in the Tenth Street Church Rang out nostalgia for the refugee Who knew the source of bells by sound. We liked it, but in ignorance. One meets authorities on bells infrequently. Europe alone made bells with such a tone, Herr Mannheim said. The bell Struck midnight, and it shook the room. He […]...
14. To a Dead Poet I knew not if to laugh or weep; They sat and talked of you “‘Twas here he sat; ’twas this he said! ‘Twas that he used to do. “Here is the book wherein he read, The room wherein he dwelt; And he” (they said) “was such a man, Such things he thought and felt.” I […]...
15. A Hero Three times I had the lust to kill, To clutch a throat so young and fair, And squeeze with all my might until No breath of being lingered there. Three times I drove the demon out, Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . . And yet I know beyond a doubt He’ll get […]...
16. If it ever bloody rains I never said I would, I only said I could Do what you wished, the subtle difference Should have raised a cautious flag; Maybe I bragged out loud, made it sound As if it was intent, I never meant to make It seem that way. So today I wear your Brittle animosity – just out […]...
17. Demon A young man is afraid of his demon and puts his hand Over the demon’s mouth sometimes… D. H. Lawrence I mentioned my demon to a friend And the friend swam in oil and came forth to me Greasy and cryptic And said, “I’m thinking of taking him out of hock. I pawned him years […]...
18. My Cancer Cure “A year to live,” the Doctor said; “There is no cure,” and shook his head. Ah me! I felt as good as dead. Yet quite resigned to fate was I, Thinking: “Well, since I have to die ‘Twill be beneath the open sky.” And so I sought a wildsome wood Wherein a lonely cabin stood, […]...
19. Wood Rides Who hath not felt the influence that so calms The weary mind in summers sultry hours When wandering thickest woods beneath the arms Of ancient oaks and brushing nameless flowers That verge the little ride who hath not made A minutes waste of time and sat him down Upon a pleasant swell to gaze awhile […]...
20. THE COY ONE ONE Spring-morning bright and fair, Roam’d a shepherdess and sang; Young and beauteous, free from care, Through the fields her clear notes rang: So, Ia, Ia! le ralla, &c. Of his lambs some two or three Thyrsis offer’d for a kiss; First she eyed him roguishly, Then for answer sang but this: So, Ia, Ia! […]...
21. Dead Men's Love There was a damned successful Poet; There was a Woman like the Sun. And they were dead. They did not know it. They did not know their time was done. They did not know his hymns Were silence; and her limbs, That had served Love so well, Dust, and a filthy smell. And so one […]...
22. The Darkling Thrush I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter’s dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires. The land’s sharp features seemed to be The Century’s corpse outleant, His crypt […]...
23. Discord in Childhood Outside the house an ash-tree hung its terrible whips, And at night when the wind arose, the lash of the tree Shrieked and slashed the wind, as a ship’s Weird rigging in a storm shrieks hideously. Within the house two voices arose in anger, a slender lash Whistling delirious rage, and the dreadful sound Of […]...
24. Stanzas Written On The Road Between Florence And Pisa Oh, talk not to me of a name great in story; The days of our youth are the days of our glory; And the myrtle and ivy of sweet two-and-twenty Are worth all your laurels, though ever so plenty. What are garlands and crowns to the brow that is wrinkled? ‘Tis but as a dead […]...
25. To E. T I slumbered with your poems on my breast Spread open as I dropped them half-read through Like dove wings on a figure on a tomb To see, if in a dream they brought of you, I might not have the chance I missed in life Through some delay, and call you to your face First […]...
26. When Your Pants Begin to Go When you wear a cloudy collar and a shirt that isn’t white, And you cannot sleep for thinking how you’ll reach to-morrow night, You may be a man of sorrows, and on speaking terms with Care, And as yet be unacquainted with the Demon of Despair; For I rather think that nothing heaps the trouble […]...
27. The Tay Bridge Disaster Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay! Alas! I am very sorry to say That ninety lives have been taken away On the last Sabbath day of 1879, Which will be remember’d for a very long time. ‘Twas about seven o’clock at night, And the wind it blew with all its might, And the rain […]...
28. Political nonsense I was saddened just to hear the bitter rancour In his voice, a sour hostility aloof of commonsense, And ranks who sat in audience held captive to his Ranting must have felt it too. Was this the one Who said he’d lead us to a promised land? How Could a man of honour make the […]...
29. The Broken Tryst That day a fire was in my blood; I could have sung: joy wrapt me round; The men I met seemed all so good, I scarcely knew I trod the ground. How easy seemed all toil! I laughed To think that once I hated it. The sunlight thrilled like wine, I quaffed Delight, divine and […]...
30. In Dispraise Of Poetry When the King of Siam disliked a courtier, He gave him a beautiful white elephant. The miracle beast deserved such ritual That to care for him properly meant ruin. Yet to care for him improperly was worse. It appears the gift could not be refused....
31. Eleventh Hour The bloom was off the economic recovery. “I just want to know one thing,” she said. What was that one thing? He’ll never know, Because at just that moment he heard the sound Of broken glass in the bathroom, and when he got there, It was dark. His hand went to the wall But the […]...
32. The Echoing Green The Sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring, To welcome the Spring. The sky-lark and thrush, The birds of the bush, Sing louder around, To the bells cheerful sound. While our sports shall be seen On the Echoing Green. Old John, with white hair Does laugh away care, Sitting under […]...
33. 1954 Then dirt scared me, because of the dirt He had put on her face. And her training bra Scared me-the newspapers, morning and evening, Kept saying it, training bra, As if the cups of it had been calling The breasts up-he buried her in it, Perhaps he had never bothered to take it Off. They […]...
34. Frogmouth biker The biker was a menace on the farm, a madman bent On speed, intent on leaving all for dead (it was fortunate He never left the shed). This biker was a frogmouth owl, A petrol head who sought to ride the biggest, baddest bike Around and did indeed if only in his mind; I’d dread […]...
35. The Everlasting Battle WHEN in my shadowy hours I pierce the hidden heart of hopes and fears, They change into immortal joys or end in immemorial tears. Moytura’s battle still endures and in this human heart of mine The golden sun powers with the might of demon darkness intertwine. I think that every teardrop shed still flows from […]...
36. The Corridor It may have been the pride in me for aught I know, or just a patronizing whim; But call it freak of fancy, or what not, I cannot hide the hungry face of him. I keep a scant half-dozen words he said, And every now and then I lose his name; He may be living […]...
37. Retired I used to sing, when I was young, The joy of idleness; But now I’m grey I hold my tongue, For frankly I confess If I had not some job to do I would be bored to death; So I must toil until I’m through With this asthmatic breath. Where others slothfully would brood beg […]...
38. Classical Indian Explanation: Music past the hippies Past Ravi Shankar Eons before When the first Asian snake Came alive Stiffened with sound Through some empty shell Some hollow wood Some emptiness The snake Was not so much charmed As listening intently To the accidental flute To that which he knew Must be female Its empty insides Calling him With […]...
39. Tz'u No. 10 (Exile) To the tune of “Bodhisattva Aliens” Soft breezes, mild sunshine, Spring is still young. The sudden change of the light Brightened my spirit. But upon awakening from slumber, I felt the chill air; The plum flower withered in my hair. Where can I call my native land? Forget – I cannot, except in wine When […]...
40. THE SINGING I was walking home down a hill near our house on a balmy afternoon Under the blossoms Of the pear trees that go flamboyantly mad here every spring with Their burgeoning forth When a young man turned in from a corner singing no it was more of A cadenced shouting Most of which I couldn’t […]...