A Rusty Nail

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1. 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 […]...
2. Rusty Crimson (Chirstmas Day, 1917)THE FIVE O’CLOCK prairie sunset is a strong man going to sleep after a long day in a cornfield. The red dust of a rusty crimson is fixed with two fingers of lavender. A hook of smoke, a woman’s nose in charcoal and… nothing. The timberline turns in a cover of purple. A […]...
3. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
4. Margaret Fuller Slack I would have been as great as George Eliot But for an untoward fate. For look at the photograph of me made by Penniwit, Chin resting on hand, and deep-set eyes Gray, too, and far-searching. But there was the old, old problem: Should it be celibacy, matrimony or unchastity? Then John Slack, the rich druggist, […]...
5. The Robe of Christ (For Cecil Chesterton) At the foot of the Cross on Calvary Three soldiers sat and diced, And one of them was the Devil And he won the Robe of Christ. When the Devil comes in his proper form To the chamber where I dwell, I know him and make the Sign of the Cross Which […]...
6. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
7. Conversion When this world’s pleasures for my soul sufficed, Ere my heart’s plummet sounded depths of pain, I call on Reason to control my brain, And scoffed at that old story of Christ. But when o’er burning wastes my feet had trod, And all my life was desolate with loss, With bleeding hands I clung about […]...
8. Cinderella Cinderella in the street In a ragged gown, Sloven slippers on her feet, Shames our tidy town; Harsh her locks of ashen grey, Vapour vague her stare, By the curb this bitter day Selling papers there. Cinderella once was sweet, Fine and lily fair, Silver slippers on her feet, Ribands in her hair; Solid men […]...
9. If I weep If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears. Every cruelty which he commits becomes him, every cruelty which he commits I endure. If he accounts me nonexistent, I account his tyranny generosity. The cure of the ache of my heart is the ache for him; how shall […]...
10. The Tournament Joust First. I. Bright shone the lists, blue bent the skies, And the knights still hurried amain To the tournament under the ladies’ eyes, Where the jousters were Heart and Brain. II. Flourished the trumpets: entered Heart, A youth in crimson and gold. Flourished again: Brain stood apart, Steel-armored, dark and cold. III. Heart’s palfrey […]...
11. A Proud Lady Hate in the world’s hand Can carve and set its seal Like the strong blast of sand Which cuts into steel. I have seen how the finger of hate Can mar and mould Faces burned passionate And frozen cold. Sorrowful faces worn As stone with rain, Faces writhing with scorn And sullen with pain. But […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. Meeting Among the Mountains The little pansies by the road have turned Away their purple faces and their gold, And evening has taken all the bees from the thyme, And all the scent is shed away by the cold. Against the hard and pale blue evening sky The mountain’s new-dropped summer snow is clear Glistening in steadfast stillness: like […]...
14. Wild Orphan Blandly mother Takes him strolling by railroad and by river he’s the son of the absconded hot rod angel And he imagines cars and rides them in his dreams, So lonely growing up among the imaginary automobiles And dead souls of Tarrytown to create Out of his own imagination the beauty of his wild Forebears […]...
15. The Song Of The Widow In the beginning life was good to me; It held me warm and gave me courage. That this is granted all while in their youth, How could I then have known of this. I never knew what living was. But suddenly it was just year on year, No more good, no more new, no more […]...
16. On Going Back To The Street After Viewing An Art Show they talk down through The centuries to us, And this we need more and more, The statues and paintings In midnight age As we go along Holding dead hands. And we would say Rather than delude the knowing: A damn good show, But hardly enough for a horse to eat, And out on the sunshine […]...
17. REVERSIBILITY ANGEL of gaiety, have you tasted grief? Shame and remorse and sobs and weary spite, And the vague terrors of the fearful night That crush the heart up like a crumpled leaf? Angel of gaiety, have you tasted grief? Angel of kindness, have you tasted hate? With hands clenched in the shade and tears of […]...
18. If Mary Had Known If Mary had known When she held her Babe’s hands in her own­ Little hands that were tender and white as a rose, All dented with dimples from finger to wrist, Such as mothers have kissed­ That one day they must feel the fierce blows Of a hatred insane, Must redden with holiest stain, And […]...
19. Night HEART-HIDDEN from the outer things I rose; The spirit woke anew in nightly birth Unto the vastness where forever glows The star-soul of the earth. There all alone in primal ecstasy, Within her depths where revels never tire, The olden Beauty shines: each thought of me Is veined through with its fire. And all my […]...
20. Psalm 119 part 17 Courage and perseverance under persecution. Ver. 143, 28 When pain and anguish seize me, Lord, All my support is from thy word: My soul dissolves for heaviness; Uphold me with thy strength’ning grace. Ver. 51,69,110 The proud have framed their scoffs and lies, They watch my feet with envious eyes, And tempt my soul to […]...
21. Gangrene So often in the mid of night I wake me in my bed With utter panic of affright To find my feet are dead; And pace the floor to easy my pain And make them live again. The folks at home are so discreet; They see me walk and walk To keep the blood-flow in […]...
22. Million Man March Poem The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been steep. Under a dead blue sky on a distant beach, I was dragged by my braids just beyond your reach. Your hands were tied, your mouth was bound, You couldn’t even call out my name. […]...
23. 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 […]...
24. The house where I was born (02) I woke up, it was the house where I was born. It was raining softly in all the rooms, I went from one to another, looking at The water that shone on the mirrors Piled up everywhere, some broken or even Pushed between the furniture and the walls. It was from these reflections that sometimes […]...
25. 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 […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. The Cuckoo No lyric line I ever penned The praise this parasitic bird; And what is more, I don’t intend To write a laudatory word, Since in my garden robins made A nest with eggs of dainty spot, And then a callous cuckoo laid A lone on on the lot. Of course the sillies hatched it out […]...
28. Compassion What puts me in a rage is The sight of cursed cages Where singers of the sky Perch hop instead of fly; Where lions to and fro Pace seven yards or so: I who love space of stars Have hate of bars. I wince to see dogs chained, Or horses bit restrained; Or men of […]...
29. After great pain, a formal feeling comes After great pain, a formal feeling comes The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore, And Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go round Of Ground, or Air, or Ought A Wooden way Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone This is the Hour of Lead […]...
30. Sonnet 145: Those lips that Love's own hand did make Those lips that Love’s own hand did make Breathed forth the sound that said “I hate” To me that languished for her sake; But when she saw my woeful state, Straight in her heart did mercy come, Chiding that tongue that ever sweet Was used in giving gentle doom, And taught it thus anew to […]...
31. An Almost Made Up Poem I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny Blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny They are small, and the fountain is in France Where you wrote me that last letter and I answered and never heard from you again. You used to write insane poems about ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper […]...
32. God's Battleground God dwells in you; in pride and shame, In all you do to blight or bless; In all you are of praise and blame, In beauty or in ugliness. “Divine Creation” – What a fraud! God did not make you. . . You make God. God lives in me, in all I feel Of love […]...
33. Sonnet CXLV Those lips that Love’s own hand did make Breathed forth the sound that said ‘I hate’ To me that languish’d for her sake; But when she saw my woeful state, Straight in her heart did mercy come, Chiding that tongue that ever sweet Was used in giving gentle doom, And taught it thus anew to […]...
34. Villanelle of Change Since Persia fell at Marathon, The yellow years have gathered fast: Long centuries have come and gone. And yet (they say) the place will don A phantom fury of the past, Since Persia fell at Marathon; And as of old, when Helicon Trembled and swayed with rapture vast (Long centuries have come and gone), This […]...
35. Psalm 119 part 1 The blessedness of saints, and misery of sinners. Ver. 1-3 Blest are the undefiled in heart, Whose ways are right and clean; Who never from thy law depart, But fly from every sin. Blest are the men that keep thy word, And practise thy commands; With their whole heart they seek the Lord, And serve […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. Pensive and Faltering PENSIVE and faltering, The words, the dead, I write; For living are the Dead; (Haply the only living, only real, And I the apparition-I the spectre.) 5...
38. Sonnet XIX: You Cannot Love To Humor You cannot love, my pretty heart, and why? There was a time you told me that you would; But now again you will the same deny, If it might please you, would to God you could. What, will you hate? Nay, that you will not, neither. Nor love nor hate, how then? What […]...
39. Dream Song 131: Come touch me baby in his waking dream Come touch me baby in his waking dream Disordered Henry murmured. I’ll read you Hegel And that will hurt your mind I can’t remember when you were unkind But I will clear that block, I’ll set you on fire Along with our babies To save them up the high & ruined stairs, My growing daughters. […]...
40. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...