Longevity

Related poetry:

1. The Key Of The Street “Miss Rosemary,” I dourly said, “Our balance verges on the red, We must cut down our overhead. One of the staff will have to go. There’s Mister Jones, he’s mighty slow, Although he does his best, I know. “A deer old man; I like him well, But age, alas! will always tell. Miss Rosemary, please […]...
2. Bones Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot Tell you, Dr. Jones- The most peculiar pain I’m in- I think it’s in my bones.” Said Dr. Jones, “Oh, Mr. Smith, That’s nothing. Without doubt We have a simple cure for that; It is to take them out.” He laid forthwith poor Mr. Smith Close-clamped upon the table, […]...
3. Was It You? “Hullo, young Jones! with your tie so gay And your pen behind your ear; Will you mark my cheque in the usual way? For I’m overdrawn, I fear.” Then you look at me in a manner bland, As you turn your ledger’s leaves, And you hand it back with a soft white hand, And the […]...
4. The Mystery Of Mister Smith For supper we had curried tripe. I washed the dishes, wound the clock; Then for awhile I smoked my pipe – Puff! Puff! We had no word of talk. The Misses sewed – a sober pair; Says I at last: “I need some air.” A don’t know why I acted so; I had no thought, […]...
5. Ippolit Konovaloff I was a gun-smith in Odessa. One night the police broke in the room Where a group of us were reading Spencer. And seized our books and arrested us. But I escaped and came to New York And thence to Chicago, and then to Spoon River, Where I could study my Kant in peace And […]...
6. The Speakers “A equals X,” says Mister One. “A equals B,” says Mister Two. “A equals nothing under the sun But A,” says Mister Three. A few Applaud; some wipe their eyes; Some linger in the shade to see One and Two in neat disguise Decapitating Mister Three. “This age is not entirely bad.” It’s bad enough, […]...
7. Room Ghost Though elegance I ill afford, My living-room is green and gold; The former tenant was a lord Who died of drinking, I am told. I fancy he was rather bored; I don’t think he was over old. And where on books I dully browse, And gaze in rapture at the sea, My predecessor world carouse […]...
8. Three Wives Said Jones: “I’m glad my wife’s not clever; Her intellect is second-rate. If she was witty she would never Give me a chance to scintillate; But cap my humorous endeavour And make me seem as addle-pate.” Said Smith: “I’m glad my wife’s no beauty, For if a siren’s charm she had, And stinted her domestic […]...
9. The Ghosts Smith, great writer of stories, drank; found it immortalized his pen; Fused in his brain-pan, else a blank, heavens of glory now and then; Gave him the magical genius touch; God-given power to gouge out, fling Flat in your face a soul-thought Bing! Twiddle your heart-strings in his clutch. “Bah!” said Smith, “let my body […]...
10. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
11. Gilhooley's Estate Oh, Mr Gilhooley he turned up his toes, As most of you know, soon or late; And Jones was a lawyer, as everyone knows, So they took him to Gilhooley’s Estate. Gilhooley in life had been living so free ‘Twas thought his possessions were great, So Jones, with a smile, says, “There’s many a fee […]...
12. Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode Are they clinging to their crosses, F. E. Smith, Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses, Are they, Smith? Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding, Wait the news from this our city? Groaning “That’s the Second Reading!” Hissing “There is still Committee!” If the voice of Cecil falters, If McKenna’s point has pith, Do they tremble for their […]...
13. My Hundred Books A thousand books my library Contains; And all are primed, it seems to me With brains. Mine are so few I scratch in thought My head; For just a hundred of the lot I’ve read. A hundred books, but of the best, I can With wisdom savour and digest And scan. Yet when afar from […]...
14. New Eyes Each Year New eyes each year Find old books here, And new books, too, Old eyes renew; So youth and age Like ink and page In this house join, Minting new coin....
15. A Disqualified Jockey's Story You see, the thing was this way there was me, That rode Panopply, the Splendor mare, And Ikey Chambers on the Iron Dook, And Smith, the half-caste rider on Regret, And that long bloke from Wagga him that rode Veronikew, the Snowy River horse. Well, none of them had chances not a chance Among the […]...
16. Thar's More In the Man Than Thar Is In The Land I knowed a man, which he lived in Jones, Which Jones is a county of red hills and stones, And he lived pretty much by gittin’ of loans, And his mules was nuthin’ but skin and bones, And his hogs was flat as his corn-bread pones, And he had ’bout a thousand acres o’ land. […]...
17. Armistice Day (1953) Don’t jeer because we celebrate Armistice Day, Though thirty years of sorry fate Have passed away. Though still we gaurd the Sacred Flame, And fly the Flag, That World War Two with grief and shame Revealed a rag. For France cannot defend to-day Her native land; And she is far to proud to pray For […]...
18. The Scribe's Prayer When from my fumbling hand the tired pen falls, And in the twilight weary droops my head; While to my quiet heart a still voice calls, Calls me to join my kindred of the Dead: Grant that I may, O Lord, ere rest be mine, Write to Thy praise one radiant, ringing line. For all […]...
19. Song Of The Sardine A fat man sat in an orchestra stall and his cheeks were wet with tears, As he gazed at the primadonna tall, whom he hadn’t seen in years. “Oh don’t you remember” he murmured low “that Spring in Montparnasse, When hand in hand we used to go to our nightly singing class. Ah me those […]...
20. Sardis (Revelations, iii. 1-6) “Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord, “And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search, Find thy zeal and love decay’d; Thou art call’d a living church, But thou art cold and dead. “Watch, remember, seek, and strive, Exert […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. Aprons of Silence MANY things I might have said today. And I kept my mouth shut. So many times I was asked To come and say the same things Everybody was saying, no end To the yes-yes, yes-yes, me-too, me-too. The aprons of silence covered me. A wire and hatch held my tongue. I spit nails into an […]...
23. The Sausage Candidate-A Tale of the Elections Our fathers, brave men were and strong, And whisky was their daily liquor; They used to move the world along In better style than now and quicker. Elections then were sport, you bet! A trifle rough, there’s no denying When two opposing factions met The skin and hair were always flying. When “cabbage-trees” could still […]...
24. MACTAVISH I do not write for love of pelf, Nor lust for phantom fame; I do not rhyme to please myself, Nor yet to win acclaim: No, strange to say it is my plan, What gifts I have, to lavish Upon a simple working man MACTAVISH. For that’s the rather smeary name, Of dreary toil a […]...
25. Size and Tears When on the sandy shore I sit, Beside the salt sea-wave, And fall into a weeping fit Because I dare not shave – A little whisper at my ear Enquires the reason of my fear. I answer “If that ruffian Jones Should recognise me here, He’d bellow out my name in tones Offensive to the […]...
26. Joey I thought I would go daft when Joey died. He was my first, and wise beyond his years. For nigh a hundred nights I cried and cried, Until my weary eyes burned up my tears. Willie and Rosie tried to comfort me: A woeful, weeping family were we. I was a widow with no friends […]...
27. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
28. Sestina Otiosa Our great work, the Otia Merseiana, Edited by learned Mister Sampson, And supported by Professor Woodward, Is financed by numerous Bogus Meetings Hastily convened by Kuno Meyer To impose upon the Man of Business. All in vain! The accomplished Man of Business Disapproves of Otia Merseiana, Turns his back on Doctor Kuno Meyer; Cannot be […]...
29. The people tangwena says this is our land soiled by the blood of black centuries Smith says the white tongue goes bang bang black must learn words of a new march Tangwena says every tree here is made in the image of a black ghost Smith says the white tongue goes bang bang you must make your […]...
30. Jones's Porvate Argyment That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, He had this pint about him: He’d swear with a hundred sighs and groans, That farmers MUST stop gittin’ loans, And git along without ’em: That bankers, warehousemen, and sich Was fatt’nin’ on the planter, And Tennessy was rotten-rich A-raisin’ meat and corn, all which Draw’d money […]...
31. Enthusiasm “Don’t overdo it,” Dad yelled, watching me Play shortstop, collect stamps and shells, Roll on the grass laughing until I peed my pants. “Screw him,” I said, and grabbed every cowry I could find, hogged all the books I could From Heights Library, wore out the baseball Diamond dawn to dusk, and-parents in Duluth- Gorged […]...
32. A Tragedy Among his books he sits all day To think and read and write; He does not smell the new-mown hay, The roses red and white. I walk among them all alone, His silly, stupid wife; The world seems tasteless, dead and done – An empty thing is life. At night his window casts a square […]...
33. How Is Your Heart? during my worst times on the park benches in the jails or living with whores I always had this certain contentment- I wouldn’t call it happiness- it was more of an inner balance that settled for whatever was occuring and it helped in the factories and when relationships went wrong with the girls. it helped […]...
34. It's Good To Have a Friend Like You! It’s good to have a friend like you, Whose friendship is sincere and true! Someone to lend a helping hand, To care for me and understand. When I am feeling sad and blue, It’s good to have a friend like you, To help me sort my troubles out, And clear my mind of fear and […]...
35. 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 […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. Knucks IN Abraham Lincoln’s city, Where they remember his lawyer’s shingle, The place where they brought him Wrapped in battle flags, Wrapped in the smoke of memories From Tallahassee to the Yukon, The place now where the shaft of his tomb Points white against the blue prairie dome, In Abraham Lincoln’s city… I saw knucks In […]...
38. The Grammar Lesson A noun’s a thing. A verb’s the thing it does. An adjective is what describes the noun. In “The can of beets is filled with purple fuzz” Of and with are prepositions. The’s An article, a can’s a noun, A noun’s a thing. A verb’s the thing it does. A can can roll – or […]...
39. The Tenant-For-Life The sun said, watching my watering-pot “Some morn you’ll pass away; These flowers and plants I parch up hot – Who’ll water them that day? “Those banks and beds whose shape your eye Has planned in line so true, New hands will change, unreasoning why Such shape seemed best to you. “Within your house will […]...
40. "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 […]...