Mike

Related poetry:

1. The Ballad Of One-Eyed Mike This is the tale that was told to me by the man with the crystal eye, As I smoked my pipe in the camp-fire light, and the Glories swept the sky; As the Northlights gleamed and curved and streamed, and the bottle of “hooch” was dry. A man once aimed that my life be shamed, […]...
2. The Lone Trail Ye who know the Lone Trail fain would follow it, Though it lead to glory or the darkness of the pit. Ye who take the Lone Trail, bid your love good-by; The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail follow till you die. The trails of the world be countless, and most of the trails be tried; […]...
3. The End Of The Trail Life, you’ve been mighty good to me, Yet here’s the end of the trail; No more mountain, moor and sea, No more saddle and sail. Waves a-leap in the laughing sun Call to me as of yore. . . . Alas! my errant days are done: I’ll rove no more, no more. Life, you’ve cheered […]...
4. The Trail Of No Return So now I take a bitter road Whereon no bourne I see, And wearily I lift the load That once I bore with glee. For me no more by sea or shore Adventure’s star shall burn, As I forsake wild ways to take The Trail of No Return. Such paths of peril I have trod: […]...
5. Sight Unseemly are the open eyes That watch the midnight sheep, That look upon the secret skies Nor close, abashed, in sleep; That see the dawn drag in, unbidden, To birth another day- Oh, better far their gaze were hidden Below the decent clay....
6. Take It Easy When I was boxing in the ring In ‘Frisco back in ninety-seven, I used to make five bucks a fling To give as good as I was given. But when I felt too fighting gay, And tried to be a dinger-donger, My second, Mike Muldoon. would say: “Go easy, kid; you’ll stay the longer.” When […]...
7. The Alcázar The General now lives in town; He’s eighty odd, they say; You’ll see him strolling up and down The Prada any day. He goes to every football game, The bull-ring knows his voice, And when the people cheer his name Moscardo must rejoice. Yet does he, in the gaiety Of opera and ball, A dingy […]...
8. The Land Of Beyond Have ever you heard of the Land of Beyond, That dreams at the gates of the day? Alluring it lies at the skirts of the skies, And ever so far away; Alluring it calls: O ye the yoke galls, And ye of the trail overfond, With saddle and pack, by paddle and track, Let’s go […]...
9. "Mike Teavee…&quot The most important thing we’ve learned, So far as children are concerned, Is never, NEVER, NEVER let Them near your television set Or better still, just don’t install The idiotic thing at all. In almost every house we’ve been, We’ve watched them gaping at the screen. They loll and slop and lounge about, And stare […]...
10. The Easter Flower Far from this foreign Easter damp and chilly My soul steals to a pear-shaped plot of ground, Where gleamed the lilac-tinted Easter lily Soft-scented in the air for yards around; Alone, without a hint of guardian leaf! Just like a fragile bell of silver rime, It burst the tomb for freedom sweet and brief In […]...
11. The Long Trail There’s a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield, And the ricks stand grey to the sun, Singing: “Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the dover, “And your English summer’s done.” You have heard the beat of the off-shore wind, And the thresh of the deep-sea rain; You […]...
12. L'Envoi There’s a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield, And the ricks stand gray to the sun, Singing: “Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the clover, And your English summer’s done.” You have heard the beat of the off-shore wind, And the thresh of the deep-sea rain; You […]...
13. Bill The Bomber The poppies gleamed like bloody pools through cotton-woolly mist; The Captain kept a-lookin’ at the watch upon his wrist; And there we smoked and squatted, as we watched the shrapnel flame; ‘Twas wonnerful, I’m tellin’ you, how fast them bullets came. ‘Twas weary work the waiting, though; I tried to sleep a wink, For waitin’ […]...
14. Admire their style I’m reading fellow poets’ blogs today, A sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment Or resorting to an unkind eye, simple though It is to sigh about uneasy affirmation. I hope when they read me (if they ever do) They rest as easy on my lack of finished form, The hazy, […]...
15. The Hand Throughout my life I see A guiding hand; The pitfalls set for me Were grimly planned. But always when and where They opened wide, Someone who seemed to care Stood by my side. When up the pathway dark I stumbled on, Afar, ahead a spark Of guidance shone. When forked the tragic trail And sad […]...
16. The Last Question New love, new love, where are you to lead me? All along a narrow way that marks a crooked line. How are you to slake me, and how are you to feed me? With bitter yellow berries, and a sharp new wine. New love, new love, shall I be forsaken? One shall go a-wandering, and […]...
17. The Retreat this time has finished me. I feel like the German troops Whipped by snow and the communists Walking bent With newspapers stuffed into Worn boots. My plight is just as terrible. Maybe more so. Victory was so close Victory was there. As she stood before my mirror Younger and more beautiful than Any woman I […]...
18. Memoriam A. H. H.: 67. When on my bed the moonlight fall When on my bed the moonlight falls, I know that in thy place of rest By that broad water of the west, There comes a glory on the walls: Thy marble bright in dark appears, As slowly steals a silver flame Along the letters of thy name, And o’er the number of thy years. The […]...
19. The Cow-Juice Cure The clover was in blossom, an’ the year was at the June, When Flap-jack Billy hit the town, likewise O’Flynn’s saloon. The frost was on the fodder an’ the wind was growin’ keen, When Billy got to seein’ snakes in Sullivan’s shebeen. Then in meandered Deep-hole Dan, once comrade of the cup: “Oh Billy, for […]...
20. Jobson Of The Star Within a pub that’s off the Strand and handy to the bar, With pipe in mouth and mug in hand sat Jobson of the Star. “Come, sit ye down, ye wond’ring wight, and have a yarn,” says he. “I can’t,” says I, “because to-night I’m off to Tripoli; To Tripoli and Trebizond and Timbuctoo mayhap, […]...
21. Amoretti LXXV: One Day I Wrote Her Name One day I wrote her name upon the strand, But came the waves and washed it away: Again I wrote it with a second hand, But came the tide, and made my pains his prey. “Vain man,” said she, “that dost in vain assay, A mortal thing so to immortalize; For I myself shall like […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Since Thou Hast Given Me This Good Hope, O God SINCE thou hast given me this good hope, O God, That while my footsteps tread the flowery sod And the great woods embower me, and white dawn And purple even sweetly lead me on From day to day, and night to night, O God, My life shall no wise miss the light of love; But […]...
24. Duet 1. Is it the wind of the dawn that I hear In the pine overhead? 2. No; but the voice of the deep as it hollows The cliffs of the land. 1. Is there a voice coming up with the Voice of the deep from the strand, Once coming up with a Song in the […]...
25. Mc'Clusky's Nell In Mike Maloney’s Nugget bar the hooch was flowin’ free, An’ One-eyed Mike was shakin’ dice wi’ Montreal Maree, An roarin’ rageful warning when the boys got overwild, When peekin’ through the double door he spied a tiny child. Then Mike Maloney muttered: “Hell! Now ain’t that jest too bad; It’s Dud McClusky’s orphen Nell […]...
26. Peleg Poague Horses and men are just alike. There was my stallion, Billy Lee, Black as a cat and trim as a deer, With an eye of fire, keen to start, And he could hit the fastest speed Of any racer around Spoon River. But just as you’d think he couldn’t lose, With his lead of fifty […]...
27. Rondeau Redoublé I know the rules and hear myself agree Not to invest beyond this one night stand. I know your patter: in, out, like the sea. The sharp north wind must blow away the sand. Soon my supply will meet your last demand And you will have no further use for me. I will not swim […]...
28. To Sunnydale There lies the trail to Sunnydale, Amid the lure of laughter. Oh, how can we unhappy be Beneath its leafy rafter! Each perfect hour is like a flower, Each day is like a posy. How can you say the skies are grey? You’re wrong, my friend, they’re rosy. With right good will let’s climb the […]...
29. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
30. The Letters Still on the tower stood the vane, A black yew gloomed the stagnant air, I peered athwart the chancel pane And saw the altar cold and bare. A clog of lead was round my feet, A band of pain across my brow; “Cold altar, Heaven and earth shall meet Before you hear my marriage vow.” […]...
31. 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 […]...
32. Dream Song 118: He wondered: Do I love? all this applause He wondered: Do I love? all this applause, Young beauties sitting at my feet & all, And all. It tires me out, he pondered: I’m tempted to break laws And love myself, or the stupid questions asked me Move me to homicide— So many beauties, one on either side, The wall’s behind me, into which […]...
33. The Prodigal Son Here come I to my own again, Fed, forgiven and known again, Claimed by bone of my bone again And cheered by flesh of my flesh. The fatted calf is dressed for me, But the husks have greater zest for me, I think my pigs will be best for me, So I’m off to the […]...
34. To A Cat Mirrors are not more silent Nor the creeping dawn more secretive; In the moonlight, you are that panther We catch sight of from afar. By the inexplicable workings of a divine law, We look for you in vain; More remote, even, than the Ganges or the setting sun, Yours is the solitude, yours the secret. […]...
35. November Cotton Flower Boll-weevil’s coming, and the winter’s cold, Made cotton-stalks look rusty, seasons old, And cotton, scarce as any southern snow, Was vanishing; the branch, so pinched and slow, Failed in its function as the autumn rake; Drouth fighting soil had caused the soil to take All water from the streams; dead birds were found In wells […]...
36. My White Mouse At dusk I saw a craintive mouse That sneaked and stole around the house; At first I took it for a ghost, For it was snowy white – almost. I’ve seen them in captivity, But this white mouse was wild and free, And every eye with stealth it stole And foraged in the garbage hole. […]...
37. A Net to Snare the Moonlight [What the Man of Faith said] The dew, the rain and moonlight All prove our Father’s mind. The dew, the rain and moonlight Descend to bless mankind. Come, let us see that all men Have land to catch the rain, Have grass to snare the spheres of dew, And fields spread for the grain. Yea, […]...
38. The Ballad Of The Black Fox Skin I There was Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike living the life of shame, When unto them in the Long, Long Night came the man-who-had-no-name; Bearing his prize of a black fox pelt, out of the Wild he came. His cheeks were blanched as the flume-head foam when the brown spring freshets flow; Deep in their […]...
39. Cotton and Corn Said Cotton to Corn, t’other day, As they met and exchang’d salute (Squire Corn in his carriage so gay, Poor Cotton, half famish’d on foot): “Great Squire, if it isn’t uncivil To hint at starvation before you, Look down on a poor hungry devil, And give him some bread, I implore you!” Quoth Corn, then, […]...
40. Sonnet 76: Why is my verse so barren of new pride? Why is my verse so barren of new pride? So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my […]...