Beak-Bashing Boy

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1. The Lost Master “And when I come to die,” he said, “Ye shall not lay me out in state, Nor leave your laurels at my head, Nor cause your men of speech orate; No monument your gift shall be, No column in the Hall of Fame; But just this line ye grave for me: ‘He played the game.'” […]...
2. Ye Mariners of England 1 Ye Mariners of England 2 That guard our native seas, 3 Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, 4 The battle and the breeze 5 Your glorious standard launch again 6 To match another foe! 7 And sweep through the deep, 8 While the stormy winds do blow, 9 While the battle rages loud […]...
3. The Widower Oh I have worn my mourning out, And on her grave the green grass grows; So I will hang each sorry clout High in the corn to scare the crows. And I will buy a peacock tie, And coat of cloth of Donegal; Then to the Farmer’s Fair I’ll hie And peek in at the […]...
4. Yesterday I’ve trod the links with many a man, And played him club for club; ‘Tis scarce a year since I began And I am still a dub. But this I’ve noticed as we strayed Along the bunkered way, No one with me has ever played As he did yesterday. It makes no difference what the […]...
5. The Telegraph Operator I will not wash my face; I will not brush my hair; I “pig” around the place There’s nobody to care. Nothing but rock and tree; Nothing but wood and stone, Oh, God, it’s hell to be Alone, alone, alone! Snow-peaks and deep-gashed draws Corral me in a ring. I feel as if I was […]...
6. A Character How often do I wish I were What people call a character; A ripe and cherubic old chappie Who lives to make his fellows happy; With in his eyes a merry twinkle, And round his lips a laughing wrinkle; Who radiating hope and cheer Grows kindlier with every year. For this ideal let me strive, […]...
7. The Fool “But it isn’t playing the game,” he said, And he slammed his books away; “The Latin and Greek I’ve got in my head Will do for a duller day.” “Rubbish!” I cried; “The bugle’s call Isn’t for lads from school.” D’ye think he’d listen? Oh, not at all: So I called him a fool, a […]...
8. Dumb Swede With barbwire hooch they filled him full, Till he was drunker than all hell, And then they peddled him the bull About a claim they had to sell. A thousand bucks they made him pay, Knowing that he had nothing more, And when he begged it back next day, And wept! – they kicked him […]...
9. The Army Mules Oh the airman’s game is a showman’s game, for we all of us watch him go With his roaring soaring aeroplane and his bombs for the blokes below, Over the railways and over the dumps, over the Hun and the Turk, You’ll hear him mutter, “What ho, she bumps,” when the Archies get to work. […]...
10. Yesterday is History Yesterday is History, ‘Tis so far away Yesterday is Poetry ‘Tis Philosophy Yesterday is mystery Where it is Today While we shrewdly speculate Flutter both away...
11. Tools for life Has life ever dumped you in a heap? Perhaps you’ve found self belief so strongly Reinforcing that doubt never enters it, Nor divorces you from your own reality. While I admire conviction I see it an Affliction of the blessed, sign of the righteously Possessed and indeed, a decent place to serve A sentence for […]...
12. For K. R. on her Sixtieth Birthday Blow out the candles of your cake. They will not leave you in the dark, Who round with grace this dusky arc Of the grand tour which souls must take. You who have sounded William Blake, And the still pool, to Plato’s mark, Blow out the candles of your cake. They will not leave you […]...
13. Train Train. Distant Train. Praise the glorious distance of Train. Dogs bark, reply to the mournful echo of Train’s whistle. Train looks back, keeps moving. Train carries its boxcars of secrets further and further away (and even further still) from those who profess to love Train, but who do not run after him. Eyes brimmed with […]...
14. Kail Yard Bard A very humble pen I ply Beneath a cottage thatch; And in the sunny hours I try To till my cabbage patch; And in the gloaming glad am I To lift the latch. I do not plot to pile up pelf, With jowl and belly fat; To simple song I give myself, And seek no […]...
15. The Quitter When you’re lost in the Wild, and you’re scared as a child, And Death looks you bang in the eye, And you’re sore as a boil, it’s according to Hoyle To cock your revolver and. . . die. But the Code of a Man says: “Fight all you can,” And self-dissolution is barred. In hunger […]...
16. Sailor Son When you come home I’ll not be round To welcome you. They’ll take you to a grassy mound So neat and new; Where I’ll be sleeping O so sound! The ages through. I’ll not be round to broom the hearth, To feed the chicks; And in the wee room of your birth Your bed to […]...
17. Rondeau at the Train Stop It bothers me: the genital smell of the bay Drifting toward me on the T stop, the train Circling the city like a dingy, year-round Christmas display. The Puritans were right! Sin Is everywhere in Massachusetts, hell-bound In the population. it bothers me Because it’s summer now and sticky – no rain To cool things […]...
18. Her Toys I sat her in her baby chair, And set upon its tray Her kewpie doll and teddy bear, But no, she would not play. Although they looked so wistfully Her favour to implore, She laughed at me with elfin glee And dashed them to the floor. I brought her lamb and circus clown, But it […]...
19. The Fish The first fish I ever caught Would not lie down Quiet in the pail But flailed and sucked At the burning Amazement of the air And died In the slow pouring off Of rainbows. Later I opened his body and separated The flesh from the bones And ate him. Now the sea Is in me: […]...
20. Blues Those five or six young guys Lunched on the stoop That oven-hot summer night Whistled me over. Nice And friendly. So, I stop. MacDougal or Christopher Street in chains of light. A summer festival. Or some Saint’s. I wasn’t too far from Home, but not too bright For a nigger, and not too dark. I […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. The Puzzled Game-Birds They are not those who used to feed us When we were young they cannot be – These shapes that now bereave and bleed us? They are not those who used to feed us, – For would they not fair terms concede us? – If hearts can house such treachery They are not those who […]...
23. "Birds of Prey" March March! The mud is cakin’ good about our trousies. Front! eyes front, an’ watch the Colour-casin’s drip. Front! The faces of the women in the ‘ouses Ain’t the kind o’ things to take aboard the ship. Cheer! An’ we’ll never march to victory. Cheer! An’ we’ll never live to ‘ear the cannon roar! The Large […]...
24. Delayed till she had ceased to know Delayed till she had ceased to know Delayed till in its vest of snow Her loving bosom lay An hour behind the fleeting breath Later by just an hour than Death Oh lagging Yesterday! Could she have guessed that it would be Could but a crier of the joy Have climbed the distant hill Had […]...
25. Henry Tripp The bank broke and I lost my savings. I was sick of the tiresome game in Spoon River And I made up my mind to run away And leave my place in life and my family; But just as the midnight train pulled in, Quick off the steps jumped Cully Green And Martin Vise, and […]...
26. Vitaп Lampada There’s a breathless hush in the Close to-night Ten to make and the match to win A bumping pitch and a blinding light, An hour to play and the last man in. And it’s not for the sake of a ribboned coat, Or the selfish hope of a season’s fame, But his Captain’s hand on […]...
27. Carry On It’s easy to fight when everything’s right, And you’re mad with the thrill and the glory; It’s easy to cheer when victory’s near, And wallow in fields that are gory. It’s a different song when everything’s wrong, When you’re feeling infernally mortal; When it’s ten against one, and hope there is none, Buck up, little […]...
28. Ninth Inning He woke up in New York City on Valentine’s Day, Speeding. The body in the booth next to his was still warm, Was gone. He had bought her a sweater, a box of chocolate Said her life wasn’t working he looked stricken she said You’re all bent out of shape, accusingly, and when he She […]...
29. The Price of Fame Do I really love you? So let me guess, you’ll think I’m easy prey If I say, okay I do – but it wont get in the way of my impending fame; I will be famous, be assured of that, and please to keep it hidden in Your fancy beggar’s hat. Be it fame or […]...
30. Portent Courage mes gars: La guerre est proche. I plant my little plot of beans, I sit beneath my cyprus tree; I do not know what trouble means, I cultivate tranquillity. . . But as to-day my walk I made In all serenity and cheer, I saw cut in an agave blade: “Courage, my comrades, war […]...
31. The Pretty Lady He asked the lady in the train If he might smoke: she smiled consent. So lighting his cigar and fain To talk he puffed away content, Reflecting: how delightful are Fair dame and fine cigar. Then from his bulging wallet he A photograph with pride displayed, His charming wife and children three, When suddenly he […]...
32. The Dead Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead! There’s none of these so lonely and poor of old, But, dying, has made us rarer gifts than gold. These laid the world away; poured out the red Sweet wine of youth; gave up the years to be Of work and joy, and that unhoped serene, That […]...
33. The Buried Train Tell me about the train that people say got buried By the avalanche was it snow? It was In Colorado, and no one saw it happen. There was smoke from the engine curling up Lightly through fir tops, and the engine sounds. There were all those people reading some From Thoreau, some from Henry Ward […]...
34. The Forsaken Merman Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Now the salt tides seaward flow; Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away! This way, this way! Call her once […]...
35. Song of a Train A monster taught To come to hand Amain, As swift as thought Across the land The train. The song it sings Has an iron sound; Its iron wings Like wheels go round. Crash under bridges, Flash over ridges, And vault the downs; The road is straight Nor stile, nor gate; For milestones towns! Voluminous, vanishing, […]...
36. CIA Dope Calypso In nineteen hundred forty-nine China was won by Mao Tse-tung Chiang Kai-shek’s army ran away They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday Supported by the CIA Pushing junk down Thailand way First they stole from the Meo Tribes Up in the hills they started taking bribes Then they sent their soldiers up to Shan Collecting […]...
37. Fame's Penny-Trumpet Blow, blow your trumpets till they crack, Ye little men of little souls! And bid them huddle at your back – Gold-sucking leeches, shoals on shoals! Fill all the air with hungry wails – “Reward us, ere we think or write! Without your Gold mere Knowledge fails To sate the swinish appetite!” And, where great […]...
38. Saltbush Bill's Second Flight The news came down on the Castlereagh, and went to the world at large, That twenty thousand travelling sheep, with Saltbush Bill in charge, Were drifting down from a dried-out run to ravage the Castlereagh; And the squatters swore when they heard the news, and wished they were well away: For the name and the […]...
39. Unto my Books so good to turn Unto my Books so good to turn Far ends of tired Days It half endears the Abstinence And Pain is missed in Praise As Flavors cheer Retarded Guests With Banquettings to be So Spices stimulate the time Till my small Library It may be Wilderness without Far feet of failing Men But Holiday excludes the […]...
40. Cheer It’s a mighty good world, so it is, dear lass, When even the worst is said. There’s a smile and a tear, a sigh and a cheer, But better be living than dead; A joy and a pain, a loss and a gain; There’s honey and may be some gall: Yet still I declare, foul […]...