No Sunday Chicken

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1. Chicken's claw by a dank and ancient coffin In the gaunt and gloomy hall Alone and sighing deeply Crouched the sorriest crone of all Her worn hands clutched a feather Her eyes were sore with tears Her lips were mumbling slowly Through the burdens of her fears Her clothes were drab and tattered Her body drooped and […]...
2. Ida Chicken After I had attended lectures At our Chautauqua, and studied French For twenty years, committing the grammar Almost by heart, I thought I’d take a trip to Paris To give my culture a final polish. So I went to Peoria for a passport (Thomas Rhodes was on the train that morning.) And there the clerk […]...
3. 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 […]...
4. Written On Sunday Morning Go thou and seek the House of Prayer! I to the Woodlands wend, and there In lovely Nature see the GOD OF LOVE. The swelling organ’s peal Wakes not my soul to zeal, Like the wild music of the wind-swept grove. The gorgeous altar and the mystic vest Rouse not such ardor in my breast, […]...
5. Judge Selah Lively Suppose you stood just five feet two, And had worked your way as a grocery clerk, Studying law by candle light Until you became an attorney at law? And then suppose through your diligence, And regular church attendance, You became attorney for Thomas Rhodes, Collecting notes and mortgages, And representing all the widows In the […]...
6. Kreisler SELL me a violin, mister, of old mysterious wood. Sell me a fiddle that has kissed dark nights on the forehead where men kiss sisters they love. Sell me dried wood that has ached with passion clutching the knees and arms of a storm. Sell me horsehair and rosin that has sucked at the breasts […]...
7. Love Of Jerusalem There is a street where they sell only red meat And there is a street where they sell only clothes and perfumes. And there Is a day when I see only cripples and the blind And those covered with leprosy, and spastics and those with twisted lips. Here they build a house and there they […]...
8. Market Square I had a penny, A bright new penny, I took my penny To the market square. I wanted a rabbit, A little brown rabbit, And I looked for a rabbit ‘Most everywhere. For I went to the stall where they sold sweet lavender (“Only a penny for a bunch of lavender!”). “Have you got a […]...
9. 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 […]...
10. Dream Song 115: Her properties, like her of course & frisky & new Her properties, like her of course & frisky & new: A stale cake sold to kids, a 7-foot weed Inside in the Great Neck night, A record (‘great’), her work all over as u- Sual rejected. She odd in a bakery. The owner stand beside her And she have to sell to the brother & […]...
11. The Deficit Demon It was the lunatic poet escaped from the local asylum, Loudly he twanged on his banjo and sang with his voice like a saw-mill, While as with fervour he sang there was borne o’er the shuddering wildwood, Borne on the breath of the poet a flavour of rum and of onions. He sang of the […]...
12. The Owners Of The Little Box Line the inside of the little box With your precious skin And make yourself cozy Just as you would in your own home Make space voyages inside her Gather stars make time squirt its milk And sleep in the clouds Just don’t go around pretending You’re more important than her length And wiser than her […]...
13. Perhaps they do not go so far Perhaps they do not go so far As we who stay, suppose Perhaps come closer, for the lapse Of their corporeal clothes It may be know so certainly How short we have to fear That comprehension antedates And estimates us there...
14. Sunday The mint bed is in Bloom: lavender haze Day. The grass is More than green and Throws up sharp and Cutting lights to Slice through the Plane tree leaves. And On the cloudless blue I scribble your name....
15. Sunday Afternoons I sit at home At my desk alone As I used to do On many sunday afternoons When you came back to me, Your arms ached for me, And your arms would close me in Though they smelled of other women. I think of you On Sunday afternoons. Your sweet head would bow, Like a […]...
16. Today Is Sunday Today is Sunday. For the first time they took me out into the sun today. And for the first time in my life I was aghast That the sky is so far away And so blue And so vast I stood there without a motion. Then I sat on the ground with respectful devotion Leaning […]...
17. A Florida Sunday From cold Norse caves or buccaneer Southern seas Oft come repenting tempests here to die; Bewailing old-time wrecks and robberies, They shrive to priestly pines with many a sigh, Breathe salutary balms through lank-lock’d hair Of sick men’s heads, and soon this world outworn Sink into saintly heavens of stirless air, Clean from confessional. One […]...
18. Theme For English B The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you Then, it will be true. I wonder if it’s that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here To this college on the hill above Harlem. I am […]...
19. Sunday Morning 1 Complacencies of the peignoir, and late Coffee and oranges in a sunny chair, And the green freedom of a cockatoo Upon a rug mingle to dissipate The holy hush of ancient sacrifice. She dreams a little, and she feels the dark Encroachment of that old catastrophe, As a calm darkens among water-lights. The pungent […]...
20. Sunday up the River MY love o’er the water bends dreaming; It glideth and glideth away: She sees there her own beauty, gleaming Through shadow and ripple and spray. O tell her, thou murmuring river, As past her your light wavelets roll, How steadfast that image for ever Shines pure in pure depths of my soul....
21. Suppose Suppose, my dear, that you were I And by your side your sweetheart sate; Suppose you noticed by and by The distance ‘twixt you were too great; Now tell me, dear, what would you do? I know and so do you. And when (so comfortably placed) Suppose you only grew aware That that dear, dainty […]...
22. Sunday O day most calm, most bright The fruit of this, the next world’s bud, Th’endorsement of supreme delight, Writ by a friend, and with his blood; The couch of time; care’s balm and bay: The week were dark, but for thy light: Thy torch doth show the way. The other days and thou Make up […]...
23. Enigma Come riddle-me-ree, come riddle-me-ree, And tell me, what my name may be. I am nearly one hundred and thirty years old, And therefore no chicken, as you may suppose; Though a dwarf in my youth (as my nurses have told), I have, ev’ry year since, been outgrowing my clothes; Till, at last, such a corpulent […]...
24. An Edwardian Sunday, Broomhill, Sheffield High dormers are rising So sharp and surprising, And ponticum edges The driveways of gravel; Stone houses from ledges Look down on ravines. The vision can travel From gable to gable, Italianate mansion And turretted stable, A sylvan expansion So varied and jolly Where laurel and holly Commingle their greens. Serene on a Sunday The […]...
25. Mr. Eliot's Sunday Morning Service Look, look, master, here comes two religious caterpillars. The Jew of Malta. POLYPHILOPROGENITIVE The sapient sutlers of the Lord Drift across the window-panes. In the beginning was the Word. In the beginning was the Word. Superfetation of, And at the mensual turn of time Produced enervate Origen. A painter of the Umbrian school Designed upon […]...
26. Called Into Play Fall fell: so that’s it for the leaf poetry: Some flurries have whitened the edges of roads And lawns: time for that, the snow stuff: & Turkeys and old St. Nick: where am I going to Find something to write about I haven’t already Written away: I will have to stop short, look Down, look […]...
27. Old Tom Again Things out of perfection sail, And all their swelling canvas wear, Nor shall the self-begotten fail Though fantastic men suppose Building-yard and stormy shore, Winding-sheet and swaddling – clothes....
28. Washerwife The aged Queen who passed away Had sixty servants, so they say; Twice sixty hands her shoes to tie: Two soapy ones have I. The old Queen had of beds a score; A cot have I and ask no more. For when the last is said and done One can but die in one. The […]...
29. The Auctioneer of Parting The Auctioneer of Parting His “Going, going, gone” Shouts even from the Crucifix, And brings his Hammer down He only sells the Wilderness, The prices of Despair Range from a single human Heart To Two not any more...
30. Are You the New person, drawn toward Me? ARE you the new person drawn toward me? To begin with, take warning-I am surely far different from what you suppose; Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal? Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover? Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy’d satisfaction? Do […]...
31. Vain Venture To have a business of my own With toil and tears, I wore my fingers to the bone For weary years. With stoic heart, for sordid gold In patient pain My life and liberty I sold For others gain. I scrimped and scraped, as cent by cent My savings grew; I found a faded shop […]...
32. Little Girls Must Not Fret What is it that makes little Emily cry? Come then, let mamma wipe the tear from her eye: There­ lay down your head on my bosom­ that’s right, And now tell mamma what’s the matter to-night. What! Emmy is sleepy, and tired with play? Come, Betty, make haste then, and fetch her away; But do […]...
33. GARAGE SALE I sold her bed for a song. A song of yearning like an orphan’s. Or the one knives carve into bread. But the un-broken bread Song too. For the song that rivers Sing to the ferryman’s oars. With that dread in it. For a threadbare tune: garroted, Chest-choked, cheap. A sparrow’s, beggar’s, a foghorn’s call. […]...
34. Song IV: Draw Near and Behold Me Love is enough: draw near and behold me Ye who pass by the way to your rest and your laughter, And are full of the hope of the dawn coming after; For the strong of the world have bought me and sold me And my house is all wasted from threshold to rafter. Pass by […]...
35. Hymn 44 part 1 Christ’s dying, rising, and reigning. Luke 23:27,29,44-46; Mt. 27:50,57; 28:6ff. He dies! the friend of sinners dies! Lo! Salem’s daughters weep around; A solemn darkness veils the skies; A sudden trembling shakes the ground. Come, saints, and drop a tear or two For him who groaned beneath your load: He shed a thousand drops for […]...
36. Stony Grey Soil O stony grey soil of Monaghan The laugh from my love you thieved; You took the gay child of my passion And gave me your clod-conceived. You clogged the feet of my boyhood And I believed that my stumble Had the poise and stride of Apollo And his voice my thick tongued mumble. You told […]...
37. 512. Song-Guid ale keeps the heart aboon Chorus-O gude ale comes and gude ale goes; Gude ale gars me sell my hose, Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon- Gude ale keeps my heart aboon! I HAD sax owsen in a pleugh, And they drew a’ weel eneugh: I sell’d them a’ just ane by ane- Gude ale keeps the heart aboon! […]...
38. The Farewell Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage Gone, gone, sold and gone To the rice-swamp dank and lone. Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings Where the noisome insect stings Where the fever demon strews Poison with the falling dews Where the sickly sunbeams glare Through the hot and misty air; Gone, […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. Picture Dealer There were twin artists A. and B. Who painted pictures two, And hung them in my galley For everyone to view; The one exhibited by A. The name “A Sphere” did bear, While strangely brother B’s display Was catalogued: “A Square”. Now although A. (and this is queer) Could squeeze a pretty tube, The picture […]...