My Feud

Related poetry:

1. Blood Feud Once, when my husband was a child, there came To his father’s table, one who called him kin, In sunbleached corduroys paler than his skin. His look was grave and kind; he bore the name Of the dead singer of Senlac, and his smile. Shyly and courteously he smiled and spoke; “I’ve been in the […]...
2. Distracted Druggist ‘A shilling’s worth of quinine, please,’ The customer demanded. The druggist went down on his knees And from a cupboard handed The waiting man a tiny flask: ‘Here, Sir, is what you ask.’ The buyer paid and went away, The druggist rubbed his glasses, Then sudden shouted in dismay: ‘Of all the silly asses!’ And […]...
3. In Memoriam 82: I Wage Not Any Feud With Death I wage not any feud with Death For changes wrought on form and face; No lower life that earth’s embrace May breed with him, can fright my faith. Eternal process moving on, From state to state the spirit walks; And these are but the shatter’d stalks, Or ruin’d chrysalis of one. Nor blame I Death, […]...
4. Convicts Love Canaries Dick’s dead! It was the Polack guard Put powdered glass into his cage When I was tramping round the yard, I could have killed him in my rage. I slugged him with that wrench I stole: That’s why I’m rotting in the Hole. Dick’s dead! Sure I wish I was too. His honey breast, his […]...
5. The Weeping I have shut my windows. I do not want to hear the weeping. But from behind the grey walls. Nothing is heard but the weeping. There are few angels that sing. There are few dogs that bark. A thousand violins fit in the palm of the hand. But the weeping is an immense angel. The […]...
6. A spirit sped A spirit sped Through spaces of night; And as he sped, he called, “God! God!” He went through valleys Of black death-slime, Ever calling, “God! God!” Their echoes From crevice and cavern Mocked him: “God! God! God!” Fleetly into the plains of space He went, ever calling, “God! God!” Eventually, then, he screamed, Mad in […]...
7. Window Shopper I stood before a candy shop Which with a Christmas radiance shone; I saw my parents pass and stop To grin at me and then go on. The sweets were heaped in gleamy rows; On each I feasted – what a game! Against the glass with flatted nose, Gulping my spittle as it came; So […]...
8. Dynamiter I SAT with a dynamiter at supper in a German saloon Eating steak and onions. And he laughed and told stories of his wife and children And the cause of labor and the working class. It was laughter of an unshakable man knowing life to be A rich and red-blooded thing. Yes, his laugh rang […]...
9. Base Details If I were fierce, and bald, and short of breath I’d live with scarlet Majors at the Base, And speed glum heroes up the line to death. You’d see me with my puffy petulant face, Guzzling and gulping in the best hotel, Reading the Roll of Honour. “Poor young chap,” I’d say “I used to […]...
10. The Buyers Father drank himself to death, Quite enjoyed it. Urged to draw a sober breath He’d avoid it. ‘Save your sympathy,’ said Dad; ‘Never sought it. Hob-nail liver, gay and glad, Sure, I bought it.’ Uncle made a heap of dough, Ponies playing. ‘Easy come and easy go,’ Was his saying. Though he died in poverty […]...
11. Hate I had a bitter enemy, His heart to hate he gave, And when I died he swore that he Would dance upon my grave; That he would leap and laugh because A livid corpse was I, And that’s the reason why I was In no great haste to die. And then – such is the […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. The Glass On The Bar Three bushmen one morning rode up to an inn, And one of them called for the drinks with a grin; They’d only returned from a trip to the North, And, eager to greet them, the landlord came forth. He absently poured out a glass of Three Star. And set down that drink with the rest […]...
14. Politeness The English and the French were met Upon the field of future battle; The foes were formidably set And waiting for the guns to rattle; When from the serried ranks of France The English saw with woeful presage Under a flaming flag advance A trumpeter who bore a message. ‘Twas from their Marshal, quite polite, […]...
15. A Cooking Egg En l’an trentiesme do mon aage Que toutes mes hontes j’ay beues… PIPIT sate upright in her chair Some distance from where I was sitting; Views of the Oxford Colleges Lay on the table, with the knitting. Daguerreotypes and silhouettes, Here grandfather and great great aunts, Supported on the mantelpiece An Invitation to the Dance. […]...
16. Miss Loo When thin-strewn memory I look through, I see most clearly poor Miss Loo, Her tabby cat, her cage of birds, Her nose, her hair her muffled words, And how she’d open her green eyes, As if in some immense surprise, Whenever as we sat at tea, She made some small remark to me. It’s always […]...
17. Expectation My flask of wine was ruby red And swift I ran my sweet to see; With eyes that snapped delight I said: “How mad with love a lad can be!” The moon was laughing overhead; I danced as nimbly as a flea. Thought I: In two weeks time we’ll wed; No more a lonesome widow […]...
18. Clearing at Dawn The fields are chill, the sparse rain has stopped; The colours of Spring teem on every side. With leaping fish the blue pond is full; With singing thrushes the green boughs droop. The flowers of the field have dabbled their powdered cheeks; The mountain grasses are bent level at the waist. By the bamboo stream […]...
19. Glass Words of a poem should be glass But glass so simple-subtle its shape Is nothing but the shape of what it holds. A glass spun for itself is empty, Brittle, at best Venetian trinket. Embossed glass hides the poem of its absence. Words should be looked through, should be windows. The best word were invisible. […]...
20. Dream Song 128: A hemorrhage of his left ear of Good Friday A hemorrhage of his left ear of Good Friday— So help me Jesus—then made funny too The other, further one. There must have been a bit. Sheets scrubbed away Soon all but three nails. Doctors in this city O Will not (his wife cried) come. Perhaps he’s for it. IF that Filipino doc Had diagnosed […]...
21. Post Office Romance The lady at the corner wicket Sold me a stamp, I stooped to lick it, And on the envelope to stick it; A spinster lacking girlish grace, Yet sweetly sensitive, her face Seemed to en-star that stodgy place. Said I: “I’ve come from o’er the sea To ask you if you’ll marry me – That […]...
22. Forward I’ve tinkered at my bits of rhymes In weary, woeful, waiting times; In doleful hours of battle-din, Ere yet they brought the wounded in; Through vigils of the fateful night, In lousy barns by candle-light; In dug-outs, sagging and aflood, On stretchers stiff and bleared with blood; By ragged grove, by ruined road, By hearths […]...
23. 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 […]...
24. The Earth-Child in the Grass In the very early morning Long before Dawn time I lay down in the paddock And listened to the cold song of the grass. Between my fingers the green blades, And the green blades pressed against my body. “Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?” Sang the grass. “Why does she weep on my […]...
25. An Old Twenty-Third Man “Is that the Three-and-Twentieth, Strabo mine, Marching below, and we still gulping wine?” From the sad magic of his fragrant cup The red-faced old centurion started up, Cursed, battered on the table. “No,” he said, “Not that! The Three-and-Twentieth Legion’s dead, Dead in the first year of this damned campaign – The Legion’s dead, dead, […]...
26. The Leaning Tower Having an aged hate of height I forced myself to climb the Tower, Yet paused at every second flight Because my heart is scant of power; Then when I gained the sloping summit Earthward I stared, straight as a plummet. When like a phantom by my side I saw a man cadaverous; At first I […]...
27. Winter Sleep When against earth a wooden heel Clicks as loud as stone on steel, When stone turns flour instead of flakes, And frost bakes clay as fire bakes, When the hard-bitten fields at last Crack like iron flawed in the cast, When the world is wicked and cross and old, I long to be quit of […]...
28. Mysterious doings As once I rambled in the woods I chanced to spy amid the brake A huntsman ride his way beside A fair and passing tranquil lake; Though velvet bucks sped here and there, He let them scamper through the green Not one smote he, but lustily He blew his horn what could it mean? As […]...
29. At The Hop ‘Tis time to dress. Dost hear the music surging Like sobbing waves that roll up from the sea? Yes, yes, I hear – I yield – no need of urging; I know your wishes, – send Lisette to me. I hate the ballroom; hate its gilded pleasure; I hate the crowd within it, well you […]...
30. The Prohibition Take heed of loving me; At least remember I forbade it thee; Not that I shall repair my unthrifty waste Of breath and blood, upon thy sighs and tears, By being to thee then what to me thou wast; But so great joy our life at once outwears; Then, lest thy love by my death […]...
31. One Step Backward Taken Not only sands and gravels Were once more on their travels, But gulping muddy gallons Great boulders off their balance Bumped heads together dully And started down the gully. Whole capes caked off in slices. I felt my standpoint shaken In the universal crisis. But with one step backward taken I saved myself from going. […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. Beak-Bashing Boy But yesterday I banked on fistic fame, Figgerin’ I’d be a champion of the Ring. Today I’ve half a mind to quit the Game, For all them rosy dreams have taken wing, Since last night a secondary bout I let a goddam nigger knock me out. It must have been that T-bone steak I ate; […]...
34. 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 […]...
35. The Baldness Of Chewed-Ear When Chewed-ear Jenkins got hitched up to Guinneyveer McGee, His flowin’ locks, ye recollect, wuz frivolous an’ free; But in old Hymen’s jack-pot, it’s a most amazin’ thing, Them flowin’ locks jest disappeared like snow-balls in the Spring; Jest seemed to wilt an’ fade away like dead leaves in the Fall, An’ left old Chewed-ear […]...
36. Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-First Birthday You cannot see the walls that divide your hand From his or hers or mine when you think you touch it. You cannot see the walls because they are glass, And glass is nothing until you try to pass it. Beat on it if you like, but not too hard, For glass will break you […]...
37. Indeed, indeed, I cannot tell Indeed, indeed, I cannot tell, Though I ponder on it well, Which were easier to state, All my love or all my hate. Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me When I say thou dost disgust me. O, I hate thee with a hate That would fain annihilate; Yet sometimes against my will, My dear friend, […]...
38. Enemy Conscript What are we fighting for, We fellows who go to war? Fighting for Freedom’s sake! (You give me the belly-ache.) Freedom to starve or slave! Freedom! aye, in the grave. Fighting for “hearth and home,” Who haven’t an inch of loam? Hearth? Why even a byre Can only be ours for hire. Dying for future […]...
39. Mazie's Ghost In London City I evade For charming Burlington Arcade – For thee in youth I met a maid By name of Mazie, Who lost no time in telling me The Ritz put up a topping tea, But having only shillings three My smile was hazy. :Instead,” said I, “it might be sport To take a […]...
40. Hymn 106 Dead to sin by the cross of Christ. Rom. 6:1,2,6. Shall we go on to sin Because thy grace abounds; Or crucify the Lord again, And open all his wounds? Forbid it, mighty God! Nor let it e’er be said, That we whose sins are crucified Should raise them from the dead. We will be […]...