The Prisoners

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1. Prisoners Usually at the helipad I see them stumble-dance Across the hot asphalt With crokersacks over their heads, Moving toward the interrogation huts, Thin-framed as box kites Of sticks & black silk Anticipating a hard wind That’ll tug & snatch them Out into space. I think Some must be laughing Under their dust-colored hoods, Knowing rockets […]...
2. The Prisoners Of The Little Box Open little box We kiss your bottom and cover Keyhole and key The whole world lies crumpted in you It resembles everything Except itself Not even your clear-sky mother Would recognize it anymore The rust will eat your key Our world and us there inside And finally you too We kiss your four sides And […]...
3. Not Works Grace, triumphant in the throne, Scorns a rival, reigns alone; Come and bow beneath her sway; Cast your idol works away! Works of man, when made his plea, Never shall accepted be; Fruits of pride (vainglorious worm!) Are the best he can perform. Self, the god his soul adores, Influences all his powers; Jesus is […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. Elizabeth told Essex Elizabeth told Essex That she could not forgive The clemency of Deity However might survive That secondary succor We trust that she partook When suing like her Essex For a reprieving Look...
6. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
7. Without Disguise If I have erred in showing all my heart, And lost your favour by a lack of pride; If standing like a beggar at your side With naked feet, I have forgot the art Of those who bargain well in passion’s mart, And win the thing they want by what they hide; Be mine the […]...
8. THE DAYS GO BY for Daniel Weissbort Some poems meant only for my eyes About a grief I can’t let go But I want to, want to throw It away like an old worn-out cloak Or screw up like a ball of over-written Trash and toss into the corner bin. I said it must come up or out I […]...
9. 451. Epitaph on the same HERE lies, now a prey to insulting neglect, What once was a butterfly, gay in life’s beam: Want only of wisdom denied her respect, Want only of goodness denied her esteem....
10. Most she touched me by her muteness Most she touched me by her muteness Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure Plea itself for Charity Were a Crumb my whole possession Were there famine in the land Were it my resource from starving Could I such a plea withstand Not upon her knee to thank me Sank […]...
11. Irreparableness I HAVE been in the meadows all the day And gathered there the nosegay that you see Singing within myself as bird or bee When such do field-work on a morn of May. But, now I look upon my flowers, decay Has met them in my hands more fatally Because more warmly clasped, and sobs […]...
12. In The Secular Night In the secular night you wander around Alone in your house. It’s two-thirty. Everyone has deserted you, Or this is your story; You remember it from being sixteen, When the others were out somewhere, having a good time, Or so you suspected, And you had to baby-sit. You took a large scoop of vanilla ice-cream […]...
13. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
14. A Song at Cock-Crow The first time that Peter denied his Lord He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord, But followed far off to see what they would do, Till the cock crew till the cock crew After Gethsemane, till the cock crew! The first time that Peter denied his Lord ‘Twas only a maid in […]...
15. The Bread-Knife Ballad A little child was sitting Up on her mother’s knee And down down her cheeks the bitter tears did flow. And as I sadly listened I heard this tender plea, ‘Twas uttered in a voice so soft and low. “Not guilty” said the Jury And the Judge said “Set her free, But remember it must […]...
16. Daybreak In Alabama When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music about Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest songs in it Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist And falling out of heaven like soft dew. I’m gonna put some tall tall trees in it And the scent […]...
17. Dream Song 86: Op. posth. no. 9 The conclusion is growing. . . I feel sure, my lord, This august court will entertain the plea Not Guilty by reason of death. I can say no more except that for the record I add that all the crimes since all the times he Died will be due to the breath Of unknown others, […]...
18. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
19. Perfection If I could practise what I preach, Of fellows there would few be finer; If I were true to what I teach My life would be a lot diviner. If I would act the way I speak, Of halo I might be a winner: The spirit wills, the flesh is weak, I’m just a simple […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. Sonnet LXV Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o’er-sways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor […]...
22. Taking Leave of a Friend Blue mountains to the north of the walls, White river winding about them; Here we must make separation And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass. Mind like a floating wide cloud, Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance. Our horses neigh to each […]...
23. Hymn 132 Holiness and grace. Titus 2:10-13. O let our lips and lives express The holy gospel we profess; So let our works and virtues shine, To prove the doctrine all divine. Thus shall we best proclaim abroad The honors of our Savior God; When the salvation reigns within, And grace subdues the power of sin. Our […]...
24. Include Me Out I grabbed the new Who’s Who to see My name – but it was not. Said I: “The form they posted me I filled and sent – so what?” I searched the essies,” dour with doubt. . . Darn! It was plain as day The scurvy knaves had left me out. . . Oh was […]...
25. Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o’ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out Against the wrackful siege of batt’ring days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor […]...
26. The Damned My days are haunted by the thought Of men in coils of Justice caught With stone and steel, in chain and cell, Of men condemned to living hell, Yet blame them not. In my sun-joy their dark I see: For what they are and had to be Blame Nature, red in tooth and claw, Blame […]...
27. It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul. Entombed by whom, for what offence If Home or Foreign born Had I the curiosity ‘Twere not appeased of men Till Resurrection, I must guess Denied the small desire A Rose upon […]...
28. Percival Sharp Observe the clasped hands! Are they hands of farewell or greeting, Hands that I helped or hands that helped me? Would it not be well to carve a hand With an inverted thumb, like Elagabalus? And yonder is a broken chain, The weakest-link idea perhaps But what was it? And lambs, some lying down, Others […]...
29. Jadis Erewhile, before the world was old, When violets grew and celandine, In Cupid’s train we were enrolled: Erewhile! Your little hands were clasped in mine, Your head all ruddy and sun-gold Lay on my breast which was your shrine, And all the tale of love was told: Ah, God, that sweet things should decline, And […]...
30. 19. A Prayer in the Prospect of Death O THOU unknown, Almighty Cause Of all my hope and fear! In whose dread presence, ere an hour, Perhaps I must appear! If I have wander’d in those paths Of life I ought to shun, As something, loudly, in my breast, Remonstrates I have done; Thou know’st that Thou hast formed me With passions wild […]...
31. Psalm 45 part 1 The glory of Christ, and power of his gospel. Now be my heart inspired to sing The glories of my Savior King, Jesus the Lord; how heav’nly fair His form! how bright his beauties are! O’er all the sons of human race He shines with a superior grace; Love from his lips divinely flows, And […]...
32. Sympathy My Muse is simple, yet it’s nice To think you don’t need to think twice On words I write. I reckon I’ve a common touch And if you say I cuss too much I answer: ‘Quite!’ I envy not the poet’s lot; He has something I haven’t got, Alas, I know. But I have something […]...
33. She dealt her pretty words like Blades She dealt her pretty words like Blades How glittering they shone And every One unbared a Nerve Or wantoned with a Bone She never deemed she hurt That is not Steel’s Affair A vulgar grimace in the Flesh How ill the Creatures bear To Ache is human not polite The Film upon the eye Mortality’s […]...
34. Hymn 161 Christian virtues; or, The difficulty of conversion. Strait is the way, the door is strait, That leads to joys on high; ‘Tis but a few that find the gate, While crowds mistake, and die. Beloved self must be denied, The mind and will renewed Passion suppressed, and patience tried, And vain desires subdued. [Flesh is […]...
35. The Children Look At The Parents We being so hidden from those who Have quietly borne and fed us, How can we answer civilly Their innocent invitations? How can we say “we see you As but-for-God’s-grace-ourselves, as Our caricatures (we yours), with Time’s telescope between us”? How can we say “you presumed on The accident of kinship, Assumed our friendship coatlike, […]...
36. Informational Decay I heard an echo in a hollow place. No sound of blowing wind or drifting sand, Some ancient voice was this, a captive trace Of gone-by speech, of argument, demand, Of plea or question, comfort or command. Long years this message had remained unheard In empty halls, in untenanted lands, A letter lost, a homeless, […]...
37. In soothing, sweetened words No, she said, I never knew it was your first. It doesn’t Matter anyway. I always had an inkling that we’d find A way. And then we did. I’m glad about it just for that. Whether it was good or bad, or would have happened Had we made a pact or that it should have […]...
38. Permanence Set within a desert lone, Circled by an arid sea, Stands a figure carved in stone, Where a fountain used to be. Two abraded, pleading hands Held below a shapeless mouth, Human-like the fragment stands, Tortured by perpetual drouth. Once the form was drenched with spray, Deluged with the rainbow flushes; Surplus water dashed away […]...
39. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
40. To cinna Cinna, the great Venusian told In songs that will not die How in Augustan days of old Your love did glorify His life and all his being seemed Thrilled by that rare incense Till, grudging him the dreams he dreamed, The gods did call you hence. Cinna, I’ve looked into your eyes, And held your […]...