Sentimental Hangman

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1. Sentimental Shark Give me a cabin in the woods Where not a human soul intrudes; Where I can sit beside a stream Beneath a balsam bough and deam, And every morning see arise The sun like bird of paradise; Then go down to the creek and fish A speckled trout for breakfast dish, And fry it in […]...
2. The Trade They bear, in place of classic names, Letters and numbers on their skin. They play their grisly blindfold games In little boxes made of tin. Sometimes they stalk the Zeppelin, Sometimes they learn where mines are laid, Or where the Baltic ice is thin. That is the custom of “The Trade.” Few prize-courts sit upon […]...
3. 209. Song-M'Pherson's Farewell FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong, The wretch’s destinie! M’Pherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows-tree. Chorus.-Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play’d a spring, and danc’d it round, Below the gallows-tree. O, what is death but parting breath? On many a bloody plain I’ve dared his face, and in […]...
4. An Old Story (Retold in Rhyme) They threw him in a prison cell; He moaned upon his bed. And when he crept from coils of hell: “Last night you killed,” they said. “last night in drunken rage you slew A being brave with breath; A radiant soul, because of you Lies dark in death.” “last night I killed,” […]...
5. PUBLISHERS And then they pretend like owls With marble eyes and wizened stupidity I do not know why they cannot perceive True art But I will write Until sand evaporates And the moon consumes the sun I will write Even for the sake of art For myself and for those who feel Reading could lift them […]...
6. The Laws of God, The Laws of Man The laws of God, the laws of man, He may keep that will and can; Not I: let God and man decree Laws for themselves and not for me; And if my ways are not as theirs Let them mind their own affairs. Their deeds I judge and much condemn, Yet when did I make […]...
7. The Silent Ones I’m just an ordinary chap Who comes home to his tea, And mostly I don’t care a rap What people think of me; I do my job and take my pay, And love of peace expound; But as I go my patient way, Don’t push me round. Though I respect authority And order never flout, […]...
8. The Hangman at Home WHAT does the hangman think about When he goes home at night from work? When he sits down with his wife and Children for a cup of coffee and a Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask Him if it was a good day’s work And everything went well or do they Stay off […]...
9. The Hangman's Great Hands And all that is this day. . . The boy with cap slung over what had been a face. .. Somehow the cop will sleep tonight, will make love to his Wife… Anger won’t help. I was born angry. Angry that my father was Being burnt alive in the mills; Angry that none of us […]...
10. Ballad of the Goodly Fere Simon Zelotes speaking after the Crucifixion. Fere=Mate, Companion. Ha’ we lost the goodliest fere o’ all For the priests and the gallows tree? Aye lover he was of brawny men, O’ ships and the open sea. When they came wi’ a host to take Our Man His smile was good to see, “First let these […]...
11. Upon the gallows hung a wretch Upon the gallows hung a wretch, Too sullied for the hell To which the law entitled him. As nature’s curtain fell The one who bore him tottered in, For this was woman’s son. “‘Twere all I had,” she stricken gasped Oh, what a livid boon!...
12. The Boola-Boola Maid In the wilds of Madagascar, Dwelt a Boola-boola maid; For her hand young men would ask her, But she always was afraid. Oh that Boola-boola maid She was living in the shade Of a spreading Yum-yum tree; And – when the day was done At the setting of the sun, She would make this melodee: […]...
13. The Carpenter's Son “Here the hangman stops his cart: Now the best of friends must part. Fare you well, for ill fare I: Live, lads, and I will die. “Oh, at home had I but stayed ‘Prenticed to my father’s trade, Had I stuck to plane and adze, I had not been lost, my lads. “Then I might […]...
14. The Lottery “Young fellow, listen to a friend: Beware of wedlock – ’tis a gamble, It’s MAN who holds the losing end In every matrimonial scramble.” “Young lady, marriage mostly is A cruel cross of hope’s concealing. A rarity is wedded bliss And WOMAN gets the dirty dealing.” . . . Such my advice to man and […]...
15. A Snifter After working hard all day In the office, How much worse on homeward way My old cough is! Barney’s Bar is gaily lit, Let me stop there; Just to buck me up a bit Have a drop there. As I stand beside the screen Hesitating, I have thought of how Noreen Will be waiting; Baby […]...
16. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
17. A Fragment of Seneca Translated After Death nothing is, and nothing, death, The utmost limit of a gasp of breath. Let the ambitious zealot lay aside His hopes of heaven, whose faith is but his pride; Let slavish souls lay by their fear Nor be concerned which way nor where After this life they shall be hurled. Dead, we become […]...
18. 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 […]...
19. You And Me I’m part of people I have known And they are part of me; The seeds of thought that I have sown In other minds I see. There’s something of me in the throne And in the gallows tree. There’s something of me in each one With whom I work and play, For islanded there can […]...
20. Ant Hill Black ants have made a musty mound My purple pine tree under, And I am often to be found, Regarding it with wonder. Yet as I watch, somehow it;s odd, Above their busy striving I feel like an ironic god Surveying human striving. Then one day came my serving maid, And just in time I […]...
21. The Outlaw A wild and woeful race he ran Of lust and sin by land and sea; Until, abhorred of God and man, They swung him from the gallows-tree. And then he climbed the Starry Stair, And dumb and naked and alone, With head unbowed and brazen glare, He stood before the Judgment Throne. The Keeper of […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Contagion Elephants are contagious! Be careful how you tread. An Elephant that’s been trodden on Should be confined to bed! Leopards are contagious too. Be careful tiny tots. They don’t give you a temperature But lots and lots – of spots. The Herring is a lucky fish From all disease inured. Should he be ill when […]...
24. The Statue of Sherman by St. Gaudens This is the soldier brave enough to tell The glory-dazzled world that ‘war is hell’: Lover of peace, he looks beyond the strife, And rides through hell to save his country’s life....
25. Dream Song 57: In a state of chortle sin once he reflected In a state of chortle sin—once he reflected, Swilling tomato juice—live I, and did More than my thirstier years. To Hell then will it maul me? for good talk, And gripe of retail loss? I dare say not. I don’t thínk there’s that place Save sullen here, wherefrom she flies tonight Retrieving her whole body, […]...
26. The Funeral of the Late Ex-Provost Rough, Dundee ‘Twas in the year of 1888, and on the 19th of November, Which the friends of the late Ex-Provost Rough will long remember, Because ’twas on the 19th of November his soul took its flight To the happy land above, the land of pure delight. Take him for all in all, he was a very […]...
27. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
28. Psalm 55 v.1-8,16-18,22 C. M. Support for the afflicted and tempted soul. O God, my refuge, hear my cries, “Behold my flowing tears; For earth and hell my hurt devise, And triumph in my fears. Their rage is leveled at my life, My soul with guilt they load, And fill my thoughts with inward strife, To shake […]...
29. Fear I know how father’s strap would feel, If ever I were caught, So mother’s jam I did not steal, Though theft was in my thought. Then turned fourteen and full of pitch, Of love I was afraid, And did not dare to dally with Our pretty parlour maid. And so it is and always was, […]...
30. Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me! Of Life? ‘Twere odd I fear [a] thing That comprehendeth me In one or two existences As Deity decree Of Resurrection? Is the East Afraid to trust the Morn With her fastidious forehead? […]...
31. The Homebody There still are kindly things for me to know, Who am afraid to dream, afraid to feel- This little chair of scrubbed and sturdy deal, This easy book, this fire, sedate and slow. And I shall stay with them, nor cry the woe Of wounds across my breast that do not heal; Nor wish that […]...
32. Roger Casement (After reading ‘The Forged Casement Diaries’ by Dr. Maloney) I say that Roger Casement Did what he had to do. He died upon the gallows, But that is nothing new. Afraid they might be beaten Before the bench of Time, They turned a trick by forgery And blackened his good name. A perjurer stood ready […]...
33. Poet's Path My garden hath a slender path With ivy overgrown, A secret place where once would pace A pot all alone; I see him now with fretted brow, Plunged deep in thought; And sometimes he would write maybe, And sometimes he would not. A verse a day he used to say Keeps worry from the door; […]...
34. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
35. 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 […]...
36. An Image From A Past Life He. Never until this night have I been stirred. The elaborate starlight throws a reflection On the dark stream, Till all the eddies gleam; And thereupon there comes that scream From terrified, invisible beast or bird: Image of poignant recollection. She. An image of my heart that is smitten through Out of all likelihood, or […]...
37. Dream Song 131: Come touch me baby in his waking dream Come touch me baby in his waking dream Disordered Henry murmured. I’ll read you Hegel And that will hurt your mind I can’t remember when you were unkind But I will clear that block, I’ll set you on fire Along with our babies To save them up the high & ruined stairs, My growing daughters. […]...
38. 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 […]...
39. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
40. 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 […]...