It's Forth Across The Roaring Foam

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1. The Roaring Days The night too quickly passes And we are growing old, So let us fill our glasses And toast the Days of Gold; When finds of wondrous treasure Set all the South ablaze, And you and I were faithful mates All through the roaring days! Then stately ships came sailing From every harbour’s mouth, And sought […]...
2. In The Foam Life swelleth in a whitening wave, And dasheth thee and me apart. I sweep out seaward: be thou brave. And reach the shore, Sweetheart. Beat back the backward-thrusting sea. Thy weak white arm his blows may thwart, Christ buffet the wild surge for thee Till thou’rt ashore, Sweetheart. Ah, now thy face grows dim apace, […]...
3. Otherwise I got out of bed On two strong legs. It might have been Otherwise. I ate Cereal, sweet Milk, ripe, flawless Peach. It might Have been otherwise. I took the dog uphill To the birch wood. All morning I did The work I love. At noon I lay down With my mate. It might Have […]...
4. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
5. Occupational Hazard He has slept with accountants and brokers, With a cowgirl (well, someone from Healds). He has slept with non-smokers and smokers In commercial and cultural fields. He has slept with book-keepers, book-binders, Slept with auditors, florists, PAs Child psychologists, even child minders, With directors of firms and of plays. He has slept with the stupid […]...
6. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. Sandpipers Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles-they write in the morning, it is gone at noon-they write at noon, it is gone at night. Pity the land, the sea, the ten mile flats, pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and […]...
9. The Explosion On the day of the explosion Shadows pointed towards the pithead. In the sun the slagheap slept. Down the lane came men in pitboots Coughing oath-edged talk and pipe-smoke, Shouldering off the freshened silence. One chased after rabbits; lost them; Came back with a nest of lark’s eggs; Showed them; lodged them in the grasses. […]...
10. The Hand Throughout my life I see A guiding hand; The pitfalls set for me Were grimly planned. But always when and where They opened wide, Someone who seemed to care Stood by my side. When up the pathway dark I stumbled on, Afar, ahead a spark Of guidance shone. When forked the tragic trail And sad […]...
11. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. Procreation It hurts my pride that I should be The issue of a night of lust; Yet even Bishops, you’ll agree, Obey the biologic ‘must’; Though no doubt with more dignity Than we of layman dust. I think the Lord made a mistake When he designed the human race, That man and angel in the make […]...
14. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
15. Modern Love XLIII: Mark Where the Pressing Wind Mark where the pressing wind shoots javelin-like, Its skeleton shadow on the broad-backed wave! Here is a fitting spot to dig Love’s grave; Here where the ponderous breakers plunge and strike, And dart their hissing tongues high up the sand: In hearing of the ocean, and in sight Of those ribbed wind-streaks running into white. […]...
16. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
17. December 30 At 1:30 in the morning a fart Smells like a marriage between An avocado and a fish head. I have to get out of bed To write this down without My glasses on....
18. A Prayer For My Son Bid a strong ghost stand at the head That my Michael may sleep sound, Nor cry, nor turn in the bed Till his morning meal come round; And may departing twilight keep All dread afar till morning’s back. That his mother may not lack Her fill of sleep. Bid the ghost have sword in fist: […]...
19. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
20. Hostel Beach, Oneroa The cliff sprang from the sea at end of Hostel Beach, If the tide was out you’d reach a tiny bay beyond The cape without wet feet, an easy stroll but too effete For blood as hot as ours. We watched it at full flood; A risky place to contemplate the games we planned, We […]...
21. Anna Who Was Mad Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say […]...
22. I went to thank Her I went to thank Her But She Slept Her Bed a funneled Stone With Nosegays at the Head and Foot That Travellers had thrown Who went to thank Her But She Slept ‘Twas Short to cross the Sea To look upon Her like alive But turning back ’twas slow...
23. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
24. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
25. 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 […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. The Wild Flower's Song As I wandered the forest, The green leaves among, I heard a Wild Flower Singing a song. ‘I slept in the earth In the silent night, I murmured my fears And I felt delight. ‘In the morning I went As rosy as morn, To seek for new joy; But oh! met with scorn.’...
28. Infelice Walking swiftly with a dreadful duchess, He smiled too briefly, his face was pale as sand, He jumped into a taxi when he saw me coming, Leaving my alone with a private meaning, He loves me so much, my heart is singing. Later at the Club when I rang him in the evening They said: […]...
29. Horse Fiddle FIRST I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted in the teeth of a strong wind. Next I would like to write one for you to sit on a hill and read down the river valley on a late summer afternoon, reading it in less than a whisper to Jack on […]...
30. Poetry it Takes A lot of Desperation Dissatisfaction And Disillusion To Write A Few Good Poems. It’s not For Everybody Either to Write It Or even to Read It....
31. The Iron Age HOW came this pigmy rabble spun, After the gods and kings of old, Upon a tapestry begun With threads of silver and of gold? In heaven began the heroic tale What meaner destinies prevail! They wove about the antique brow A circlet of the heavenly air. To whom is due such reverence now, The thought […]...
32. Answers Why did you travel? Because the house was cold. Why did you travel? Because it is what I have always done between sunset and sunrise. What did you wear? I wore a blue suit, a white shirt, yellow tie, and yellow socks. What did you wear? I wore nothing. A scarf of pain kept me […]...
33. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
34. To Morning O holy virgin! clad in purest white, Unlock heav’n’s golden gates, and issue forth; Awake the dawn that sleeps in heaven; let light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey’d dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning, salute the sun Rous’d like a huntsman to the chase, and with […]...
35. A Private This ploughman dead in battle slept out of doors Many a frozen night, and merrily Answered staid drinkers, good bedmen, and all bores: “At Mrs Greenland’s Hawthorn Bush,” said he, “I slept.” None knew which bush. Above the town, Beyond ‘The Drover’, a hundred spot the down In Wiltshire. And where now at last he […]...
36. To Fr. Armando Everyone, after all, was killed: He who was crucified, He who died without skin, He who died without a head, He who was drowned, He who was thrown down From the wall of the Temple, Which shortly after that Ceased to exist. Everyone, after all, was tormented; He who was put at the mercy Of […]...
37. Listen, Lord: A Prayer O Lord, we come this morning Knee-bowed and body-bent Before Thy throne of grace. O Lord this morning Bow our hearts beneath our knees, And our knees in some lonesome valley. We come this morning Like empty pitchers to a full fountain, With no merits of our own. O Lord open up a window of […]...
38. Portrait of a Baby He lay within a warm, soft world Of motion. Colors bloomed and fled, Maroon and turquoise, saffron, red, Wave upon wave that broke and whirled To vanish in the grey-green gloom, Perspectiveless and shadowy. A bulging world that had no walls, A flowing world, most like the sea, Compassing all infinity Within a shapeless, ebbing […]...
39. Longevity Said Brown: ‘I can’t afford to die For I have bought annuity, And every day of living I Have money coming in to me: While others toil to make their bread I make mine by not being dead.’ Said Jones: ‘I can’t afford to die, For I have books and books to write. I do […]...
40. Bring me the sunset in a cup Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps Tell me what time the weaver sleeps Who spun the breadth of blue! Write me how many notes there be In the new Robin’s ecstasy Among astonished boughs How many trips […]...