Causation
Said darling daughter unto me:
“oh Dad, how funny it would be
If you had gone to Mexico
A score or so of years ago.
Had not some whimsey changed your plan
I might have been a Mexican.
With lissome form and raven hair,
Instead of being fat and fair.
“Or if you’d sailed the Southern Seas
And mated with a Japanese
I might have been a squatty girl
With never golden locks to curl,
Who flirted with a painted fan,
And tinkled on a samisan,
And maybe slept upon a mat –
I’m very glad I don’t do that.
“When I consider the romance
Of all your youth of change and chance
I might, I fancy, just as well
Have bloomed a bold Tahitian belle,
Or have been born. . . but there – ah no!
I draw the line – and Esquimeaux.
It scares me stiff to think of what
I might have been – thank God! I’m not.”
Said I: “my dear, don’t be absurd,
Since everything that has occurred,
Through seeming fickle in your eyes,
Could not a jot be otherwise.
For in this casual cosmic biz
The world can be but what it is;
And nobody can dare deny
Part of this world is you and I.
Or call it fate or destiny
No other issue could there be.
Though half the world I’ve wandered through
Cause and effect have linked us two.
Aye, all the aeons of the past
Conspired to bring us here at last,
And all I ever chanced to do
Inevitably led to you.
To you, to make you what you are,
A maiden in a Morris car,
IN Harris tweeds, an airedale too,
But Anglo-Saxon through and through.
And all the good and ill I’ve done
In every land beneath the sun
Magnificently led to this –
A country cottage and – your kiss.”
Related poetry:
- Agnostic Apology I am a stout materialist; With abstract terms I can’t agree, And so I’ve made a little list Of words that don’t make sense to me. To fool my reason I refuse, For honest thinking is my goal; And that is why I rarely use Vague words like Soul. In terms of matter I am […]...
- Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
- 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, […]...
- A Grain Of Sand If starry space no limit knows And sun succeeds to sun, There is no reason to suppose Our earth the only one. ‘Mid countless constellations cast A million worlds may be, With each a God to bless or blast And steer to destiny. Just think! A million gods or so To guide each vital stream, […]...
- The Law Of Laws If we could roll back History A century, let’s say, And start from there, I’m sure that we Would find things as to-day: In all creation’s cosmic range No vestige of a change. Turn back a thousand years, the same Unchangement we would view; Cause and Effect their laws proclaim, The truest of the true, […]...
- The Fortune-Teller Down in the valley come meet me to-night, And I’ll tell you your fortune truly As ever ’twas told, by the new-moon’s light, To a young maiden, shining as newly. But, for the world, let no one be nigh, Lest haply the stars should deceive me, Such secrets between you and me and the sky […]...
- After Auschwitz Anger, As black as a hook, Overtakes me. Each day, Each Nazi Took, at 8:00 A. M., a baby And sauteed him for breakfast In his frying pan. And death looks on with a casual eye And picks at the dirt under his fingernail. Man is evil, I say aloud. Man is a flower That […]...
- Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
- Defamation Whey are those tears in your eyes, my child? How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing! You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing- Is that why they call you dirty? O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because It has smudged its face […]...
- Meeting by Accident Meeting by Accident, We hovered by design As often as a Century An error so divine Is ratified by Destiny, But Destiny is old And economical of Bliss As Midas is of Gold...
- Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
- Anseo When the master was calling the roll At the primary school in Collegelands, You were meant to call back Anseo And raise your hand As your name occurred. Anseo, meaning here, here and now, All present and correct, Was the first word of Irish I spoke. The last name on the ledger Belonged to Joseph […]...
- Hidden Flame Feed a flame within, which so torments me That it both pains my heart, and yet contains me: ‘Tis such a pleasing smart, and I so love it, That I had rather die than once remove it. Yet he, for whom I grieve, shall never know it; My tongue does not betray, nor my eyes […]...
- Bee-attitudes in the shadow Of the flower Is the sting The bee driven by need Uses its painful gift To keep its sense of beauty In proportion It does its job with A thoughtless dedication Its honeyed world Excites no inner space Bees are not poets Who wade through words With too much brain Around their […]...
- Song From Amphitryon Air Iris I love, and hourly I die, But not for a lip, nor a languishing eye: She’s fickle and false, and there we agree, For I am as false and as fickle as she. We neither believe what either can say; And, neither believing, we neither betray. ‘Tis civil to swear, and say things […]...
- On Death The pale, the cold, and the moony smile Which the meteor beam of a starless night Sheds on a lonely and sea-girt isle, Ere the dawning of morn’s undoubted light, Is the flame of life so fickle and wan That flits round our steps till their strength is gone. O man! hold thee on in […]...
- Be Not Sad Be not sad because all men Prefer a lying clamour before you: Sweetheart, be at peace again – Can they dishonour you? They are sadder than all tears; Their lives ascend as a continual sigh. Proudly answer to their tears: As they deny, deny....
- The Soldier Of Fortune “Deny your God!” they ringed me with their spears; Blood-crazed were they, and reeking from the strife; Hell-hot their hate, and venom-fanged their sneers, And one man spat on me and nursed a knife. And there was I, sore wounded and alone, I, the last living of my slaughtered band. Oh sinister the sky, and […]...
- Sonnet XLI: Why Do I Speak of Joy Love’s Lunacy Why do I speak of joy, or write of love, When my heart is the very den of horror, And in my soul the pains of Hell I prove, With all his torments and infernal terror? What should I say? What yet remains to do? My brain is dry with weeping all too […]...
- Sonnet 126: O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time’s fickle glass his fickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow’st. If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back, She keeps thee to this purpose, that […]...
- An American If the Led Striker call it a strike, Or the papers call it a war, They know not much what I am like, Nor what he is, My Avatar. Throuh many roads, by me possessed, He shambles forth in cosmic guise; He is the Jester and the Jest, And he the Text himself applies. The […]...
- You Felons on Trial in Courts YOU felons on trial in courts; You convicts in prison-cells-you sentenced assassins, chain’d and hand-cuff’d with iron; Who am I, too, that I am not on trial, or in prison? Me, ruthless and devilish as any, that my wrists are not chain’d with iron, or my ankles with iron? You prostitutes flaunting over the trottoirs, […]...
- Elegy Oh destiny of Borges To have sailed across the diverse seas of the world Or across that single and solitary sea of diverse Names, To have been a part of Edinburgh, of Zurich, of the Two Cordobas, Of Colombia and of Texas, To have returned at the end of changing generations To the ancient lands […]...
- Instinct she is So intense in her fear: Her nostrils quiver At the scent of society’s danger; Caught in the glare Of each stranger’s casual glance She turns, No defense except vigilance, Gracefully shivering To the rhythm of footsteps that pass And when my eyes Ensnared hers I could feel her ask me to speak For […]...
- The Lady's Yes “Yes,” I answered you last night; “No,” this morning, Sir, I say. Colours seen by candlelight, Will not look the same by day. When the viols played their best, Lamps above, and laughs below – Love me sounded like a jest, Fit for Yes or fit for No. Call me false, or call me free […]...
- 359. Song-O May, thy Morn O MAY, thy morn was ne’er so sweet As the mirk night o’ December! For sparkling was the rosy wine, And private was the chamber: And dear was she I dare na name, But I will aye remember: And dear was she I dare na name, But I will aye remember. And here’s to them […]...
- Sea horn within the shell swim all the sea’s fish Our ears too are compendiums of sound The big bang exploded – such a long wish Waves and warps towards the present ground Shell to ear – each breeds the other’s cry Infinity in slices sluiced in words Haunting the future in us till we die And […]...
- Dram-Shop Ditty I drink my fill of foamy ale I sing a song, I tell a tale, I play the fiddle; My throat is chronically dry, Yet savant of a sort am I, And Life’s my riddle. For look! I raise my arm to drink- A voluntary act, you think (Nay, Sir, you’re grinning)> You’re wrong: this […]...
- Chicks THE CHICK in the egg picks at the shell, cracks open one oval world, and enters another oval world. “Cheep… cheep… cheep” is the salutation of the newcomer, the emigrant, the casual at the gates of the new world. “Cheep… cheep” … from oval to oval, sunset to sunset, star to star. It is at […]...
- Hero Worship Said he: “You saw the Master clear; By Rushy Pond alone he sat, Serene and silent as a seer, In tweedy coat and seedy hat. You tell me you did not intrude, (Although his book was in your hand,) Upon his melancholy mood. . . I do not understand. “You did not tell him: ‘I […]...
- Professor Newcomer Everyone laughed at Col. Prichard For buying an engine so powerful That it wrecked itself, and wrecked the grinder He ran it with. But here is a joke of cosmic size: The urge of nature that made a man Evolve from his brain a spiritual life Oh miracle of the world! The very same brain […]...
- Goodbye To The Poetry Of Calcium Dark cypresses The world is uneasily happy; It will all be forgotten. Theodore Storm Mother of roots, you have not seeded The tall ashes of loneliness For me. Therefore, Now I go. If I knew the name, Your name, all trellises of vineyards and old fire Would quicken to shake terribly my Earth, mother of […]...
- The World's All Right Be honest, kindly, simple, true; Seek good in all, scorn but pretence; Whatever sorrow come to you, Believe in Life’s Beneficence! The World’s all right; serene I sit, And cease to puzzle over it. There’s much that’s mighty strange, no doubt; But Nature knows what she’s about; And in a million years or so We’ll […]...
- The Heritage Cry out on Time that he may take away Your cold philosophies that give no hint Of spirit-quickened flesh; fall down and pray That Death come never with a face of flint: Death is our heritage; with Life we share The sunlight that must own his darkening hour: Within his very presence yet we dare […]...
- A Woman's Shortcomings She has laughed as softly as if she sighed, She has counted six, and over, Of a purse well filled, and a heart well tried – Oh, each a worthy lover! They “give her time”; for her soul must slip Where the world has set the grooving; She will lie to none with her fair […]...
- The Christening What shall I call My dear little dormouse? His eyes are small, But his tail is e-nor-mouse. I sometimes call him Terrible John, ‘Cos his tail goes on – And on – And on. And I sometimes call him Terrible Jack, ‘Cos his tail goes on to the end of his back. And I sometimes […]...
- 109. My Highland Lassie, O NAE gentle dames, tho’ e’er sae fair, Shall ever be my muse’s care: Their titles a’ arc empty show; Gie me my Highland lassie, O. Chorus.-Within the glen sae bushy, O, Aboon the plain sae rashy, O, I set me down wi’ right guid will, To sing my Highland lassie, O. O were yon hills […]...
- O Beauty, Passing Beauty! O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetest sweet! How can thou let me waste my youth in sighs? I only ask to sit beside thy feet. Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes. Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold My arms about thee scarcely dare to speak. And nothing seems to […]...
- Long highway blues highway dancing During a long day Of running My thumb, Carrying me nowhere Grew tired, A sunset and beauty Carved the sky Her eyes and hair A tattoo upon my soul Wouldn’t let go I had nowhere to run And so, Highway dancing And nowhere To call home. Walking the long black road Alone Believing […]...
- Sonnet 33 – Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear The name I used to run at, when a child, From innocent play, and leave the cowslips piled, To glance up in some face that proved me dear With the look of its eyes. I miss the clear Fond voices which, being drawn and reconciled Into […]...