A Canvas For A Crust

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1. Promises Like Pie-Crust Promise me no promises, So will I not promise you: Keep we both our liberties, Never false and never true: Let us hold the die uncast, Free to come as free to go: For I cannot know your past, And of mine what can you know? You, so warm, may once have been Warmer towards […]...
2. Insomnia. Homer. Taut canvas Insomnia. Homer. Taut canvas. Half the catalogue of ships is mine: That flight of cranes, long stretched-out line, That once rose, out of Hellas. To an alien land, like a phalanx of cranes – Foam of the gods on the heads of kings – Where do you sail? What would the things Of Troy, be […]...
3. Genius Genius, like gold and precious stones, Is chiefly prized because of its rarity. Geniuses are people who dash of weird, wild, Incomprehensible poems with astonishing facility, And get booming drunk and sleep in the gutter. Genius elevates its possessor to ineffable spheres Far above the vulgar world and fills his soul With regal contempt for […]...
4. Give Me Back My Rags #1 Give me back my rags My rags of pure dreaming Of silk smiling of striped foreboding Of my cloth of lace My rags of spotted hope Of burnished desire of chequered glances Of skin from my face Give me back my rags Give me when I ask you nicely...
5. A little bread a crust a crumb A little bread a crust a crumb A little trust a demijohn Can keep the soul alive Not portly, mind! but breathing warm Conscious as old Napoleon, The night before the Crown! A modest lot A fame petite A brief Campaign of sting and sweet Is plenty! Is enough! A Sailor’s business is the shore! […]...
6. 365. Lines on Fergusson, the Poet ILL-FATED genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson! What heart that feels and will not yield a tear, To think Life’s sun did set e’er well begun To shed its influence on thy bright career. O why should truest Worth and Genius pine Beneath the iron grasp of Want and Woe, While titled knaves and idiot-Greatness shine In all […]...
7. The Bohemian Up in my garret bleak and bare I tilted back on my broken chair, And my three old pals were with me there, Hunger and Thirst and Cold; Hunger scowled at his scurvy mate: Cold cowered down by the hollow grate, And I hated them with a deadly hate As old as life is old. […]...
8. I cannot live with You I cannot live with You It would be Life And Life is over there Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to Putting up Our Life His Porcelain Like a Cup Discarded of the Housewife Quaint or Broke A newer Sevres pleases Old Ones crack I could not die with You For One must […]...
9. May 8 700 francs will get you $109.91 On this muggy May afternoon Which is good to know since I just found 700 francs in my wallet While Dinah Washington was singing “My Old Flame” I was thinking of where I was with Glen when Allen Ginsberg died And if I could relax for one hour If […]...
10. Someone's Mother Someone’s Mother trails the street Wrapt in rotted rags; Broken slippers on her feet Drearily she drags; Drifting in the bitter night, Gnawing gutter bread, With a face of tallow white, Listless as the dead. Someone’s Mother in the dim Of the grey church wall Hears within a Christmas hymn, One she can recall From […]...
11. Vain Venture To have a business of my own With toil and tears, I wore my fingers to the bone For weary years. With stoic heart, for sordid gold In patient pain My life and liberty I sold For others gain. I scrimped and scraped, as cent by cent My savings grew; I found a faded shop […]...
12. Dedication In youth I longed to paint The loveliness I saw; And yet by dire constraint I had to study Law. But now all that is past, And I have no regret, For I am free at last Law to forget. To beauty newly born With brush and tube I play; And though my daubs you […]...
13. 161. Epigram Addressed to an Artist DEAR -, I’ll gie ye some advice, You’ll tak it no uncivil: You shouldna paint at angels mair, But try and paint the devil. To paint an Angel’s kittle wark, Wi’ Nick, there’s little danger: You’ll easy draw a lang-kent face, But no sae weel a stranger.-R. B....
14. Navels Men have navels more or less; Some are neat, some not Being fat I must confess Mine is far from hot. Woman’s is a pearly ring, Lovely to my mind; So of it to shyly sing I am inclined. I believe in nudity. Female forms divine Should be bared for all to see In colour […]...
15. Grand-Pa's Whim While for me gapes the greedy grave It don’t make sense That I should have a crazy crave To paint our fence. Yet that is what I aim to do, Though dim my sight: Jest paint them aged pickets blue, Or green or white. Jest squat serenely in the sun Wi’ brush an’ paint, An’ […]...
16. To Elsie The pure products of America Go crazy- Mountain folk from Kentucky Or the ribbed north end of Jersey With its isolate lakes and Valleys, its deaf-mutes, thieves Old names And promiscuity between Devil-may-care men who have taken To railroading Out of sheer lust of adventure- And young slatterns, bathed In filth From Monday to Saturday […]...
17. 46. The Belles of Mauchline IN Mauchline there dwells six proper young belles, The pride of the place and its neighbourhood a’; Their carriage and dress, a stranger would guess, In Lon’on or Paris, they’d gotten it a’. Miss Miller is fine, Miss Markland’s divine, Miss Smith she has wit, and Miss Betty is braw: There’s beauty and fortune to […]...
18. Astrophel And Stella-Eleventh Song “Who is it that this dark night Underneath my window plaineth?” ‘It is one who from thy sight Being, ah! exiled, disdaineth Every other vulgar light.’ “Why, alas! and are you he? Be not yet those fancies changed?” ‘Dear, when you find change in me, Though from me you be estranged, Let my change to […]...
19. 4. Song-In the Character of a Ruined Farmer THE SUN he is sunk in the west, All creatures retirиd to rest, While here I sit, all sore beset, With sorrow, grief, and woe: And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O! The prosperous man is asleep, Nor hears how the whirlwinds sweep; But Misery and I must watch The surly tempest blow: And it’s O, […]...
20. The Wishing-Caps Life’s all getting and giving, I’ve only myself to give. What shall I do for a living? I’ve only one life to live. End it? I’ll not find another. Spend it? But how shall I best? Sure the wise plan is to live like a man And Luck may look after the rest! Largesse! Largesse, […]...
21. The Malay took the Pearl The Malay took the Pearl Not I the Earl I feared the Sea too much Unsanctified to touch Praying that I might be Worthy the Destiny The Swarthy fellow swam And bore my Jewel Home Home to the Hut! What lot Had I the Jewel got Borne on a Dusky Breasty I had not deemed […]...
22. Song of Karen, the Dancing Child (O little white feet of mine) Out in the storm and the rain you fly; (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) Can the children hear my cry? (O little white feet of mine) Never a child in the whole great town; (Red, red shoes the colour of wine) Lights out and the blinds pulled […]...
23. As I Ponder'd in Silence 1 AS I ponder’d in silence, Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long, A Phantom arose before me, with distrustful aspect, Terrible in beauty, age, and power, The genius of poets of old lands, As to me directing like flame its eyes, With finger pointing to many immortal songs, And menacing voice, What singest thou? […]...
24. To My Children Jaya Surya GOLDEN sun of victory, born In my life’s unclouded morn, In my lambent sky of love, May your growing glory prove Sacred to your consecration, To my heart and to my nation. Sun of victory, may you be Sun of song and liberty. Padmaja Lotus-maiden, you who claim All the sweetness of your […]...
25. Lottery Ticket ‘A ticket for the lottery I’ve purchased every week,’ said she ‘For years a score Though desperately poor am I, Oh how I’ve scrimped and scraped to buy One chance more. Each week I think I’ll gain the prize, And end my sorrows and my sighs, For I’ll be rich; Then nevermore I’ll eat bread […]...
26. Gipsy The poppies that in Spring I sow, In rings of radiance gleam and glow, Like lords and ladies gay. A joy are they to dream beside, As in the air of eventide They flutter, dip and sway. For some are scarlet, some are gold, While some in fairy flame unfold, And some are rose and […]...
27. Stamp Collector My worldly wealth I hoard in albums three, My life collection of rare postage stamps; My room is cold and bare as you can see, My coat is old and shabby as a tramp’s; Yet more to me than balances in banks, My albums three are worth a million francs. I keep them in that […]...
28. Elegy to the Memory of Richard Boyle, Esq NEAR yon bleak mountain’s dizzy height, That hangs o’er AVON’s silent wave; By the pale Crescent’s glimm’ring light, I sought LORENZO’s lonely grave. O’er the long grass the silv’ry dew, Soft Twilight’s tears spontaneous shone; And the dank bough of baneful yew Supply’d the place of sculptured stone. Oft, as my trembling steps drew near, […]...
29. Primavera in the North She has danced for leagues and leagues, Over thorns and thistles, Prancing to a tune of Griegg’s Performed on willow whistles. Antelopes behold her, dazed, Velvet-eyed, and furry; Polar flowers, crackle-glazed, Snap beneath her hurry. In a wig of copper wire, A gown of scalloped gauzes, She capers like a flame of fire Over Arctic […]...
30. Art thou the thing I wanted? Art thou the thing I wanted? Begone my Tooth has grown Supply the minor Palate That has not starved so long I tell thee while I waited The mystery of Food Increased till I abjured it And dine without Like God Art thou the thing I wanted? Begone my Tooth has grown Affront a minor […]...
31. Robert Burns Immortal Robert Burns of Ayr, There’s but few poets can with you compare; Some of your poems and songs are very fine: To “Mary in Heaven” is most sublime; And then again in your “Cottar’s Saturday Night,” Your genius there does shine most bright, As pure as the dewdrops of the night. Your “Tam O’Shanter” […]...
32. Performance I starred that night, I shone: I was footwork and firework in one, A rocket that wriggled up and shot Darkness with a parasol of brilliants And a peewee descant on a flung bit; I was blusters of glitter-bombs expanding To mantle and aurora from a crown, I was fouéttes, falls of blazing paint, Para-flares […]...
33. Danny Deever “What are the bugles blowin’ for?” said Files-on-Parade. “To turn you out, to turn you out”, the Colour-Sergeant said. “What makes you look so white, so white?” said Files-on-Parade. “I’m dreadin’ what I’ve got to watch”, the Colour-Sergeant said. For they’re hangin’ Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play, The regiment’s in ‘ollow […]...
34. My Great Great Etc. Uncle Patrick Henry There’s a fortune to be made in just about everything In this country, somebody’s father had to invent Everything baby food, tractors, rat poisoning. My family’s obviously done nothing since the beginning Of time. They invented poverty and bad taste And getting by and taking it from the boss. O my mother goes around chewing […]...
35. At the Tomb of Napoleon I stood beside his sepulchre whose fame, Hurled over Europe once on bolt and blast, Now glows far off as storm-clouds overpast Glow in the sunset flushed with glorious flame. Has Nature marred his mould? Can Art acclaim No hero now, no man with whom men side As with their hearts’ high needs personified? There […]...
36. THE WANDERER'S STORM-SONG [Goethe says of this ode, that it is the only One remaining out of several strange hymns and dithyrambs composed By him at a period of great unhappiness, when the love-affair between Him and Frederica had been broken off by him. He used to sing them While wandering wildly about the country. This particular one […]...
37. The Low-Down White This is the pay-day up at the mines, when the bearded brutes come down; There’s money to burn in the streets to-night, so I’ve sent my klooch to town, With a haggard face and a ribband of red entwined in her hair of brown. And I know at the dawn she’ll come reeling home with […]...
38. 338. Song-My Tocher's the Jewel O MEIKLE thinks my luve o’ my beauty, And meikle thinks my luve o’ my kin; But little thinks my luve I ken brawlie My tocher’s the jewel has charms for him. It’s a’ for the apple he’ll nourish the tree, It’s a’ for the hinny he’ll cherish the bee, My laddie’s sae meikle in […]...
39. The Bards Of Olden Time Say, where is now that glorious race, where now are the singers Who, with the accents of life, listening nations enthralled, Sung down from heaven the gods, and sung mankind up to heaven, And who the spirit bore up high on the pinions of song? Ah! the singers still live; the actions only are wanting, […]...
40. Charity The Princess was of ancient line, Of royal race was she; Like cameo her face was fine, With sad serentiy: Yet bent she toiled with dimming eye, Her rice and milk to buy. With lacework that for pity plead, So out of date it seemed, She sought to make her daily bread, As of her […]...