Boots

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1. Boots We’ve travelled per Joe Gardiner, a humping of our swag In the country of the Gidgee and Belar. We’ve swum the Di’mantina with our raiment in a bag, And we’ve travelled per superior motor car, But when we went to Germany we hadn’t any choice, No matter what our training or pursuits, For they gave […]...
2. Is Bliss then, such Abyss Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe? I’d rather suit my foot Than save my Boot For yet to buy another Pair Is possible, At any store But Bliss, is sold just once. The Patent lost None buy it any more Say, Foot, decide […]...
3. The Big Boots Of Pain There can be certain potions Needled in the clock For the body’s fall from grace, To untorture and to plead for. These I have known And would sell all my furniture And books and assorted goods To avoid, and more, more. But the other pain I would sell my life to avoid The pain that […]...
4. South Africa 1903 Lived a woman wonderful, (May the Lord amend her!) Neither simple, kind, nor true, But her Pagan beauty drew Christian gentlemen a few Hotly to attend her. Christian gentlemen a few From Berwick unto Dover; For she was South Africa, Ana she was South Africa, She was Our South Africa, Africa all over! Half […]...
5. This country nurtured hope This country nurtured hope decayed, The politician cruises on a 4WD guzzler, The thief. Feeling the base of his belly. There is a slum in my heart But I cannot relocate it to my foot Nor hand nor back Its rusted tin makeshifts make my blood flow slow. War has filled my heart with bullets, […]...
6. The Supreme Moment As an ant is powerless Against a raised boot, And only has an instant To have a bright idea or two. The black boot so polished, He can see himself Reflected in it, distorted, Perhaps made larger Into a huge monster ant Shaking his arms and legs Threateningly? The boot may be hesitating, Demurring, having […]...
7. Whats The Use Of A Title? They dont make it The beautiful die in flame – Sucide pills, rat poison, rope what – Ever… They rip their arms off, Throw themselves out of windows, They pull their eyes out of the sockets, Reject love Reject hate Reject, reject. They do’nt make it The beautiful can’t endure, They are butterflies They are […]...
8. Boot And Saddle Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Rescue my Castle, before the hot day Brightens the blue from its silvery grey, (Chorus) “Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!” Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you’d say; Many’s the friend there, will listen and pray “God’s luck to gallants that strike up the lay, (Chorus) “Boot, saddle, […]...
9. Cavalier Tunes: Boot and Saddle Boot, saddle, to horse and away! Rescue my Castle, before the hot day Brightens to blue from its silvery gray, (Chorus) Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you’d say; Many’s the friend there, will listen and pray “God’s luck to gallants that strike up the lay (Chorus) Boot, saddle, […]...
10. Free Verse I now delight In spite Of the might And the right Of classic tradition, In writing And reciting Straight ahead, Without let or omission, Just any little rhyme In any little time That runs in my head; Because, I’ve said, My rhymes no longer shall stand arrayed Like Prussian soldiers on parade That march, Stiff […]...
11. Troll Sat Alone on His Seat of Stone Troll sat alone on his seat of stone, And munched and mumbled a bare old bone; For many a year he had gnawed it near, For meat was hard to come by. Done by! Gum by! In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone, And meat was hard to come by. Up came Tom […]...
12. Le Gout du Néant Morne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’éperon attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacle bute. Résigne-toi, mon coeur; dors ton sommeil de brute. Esprit vaincu, fourbu! Pour toi, vieux maraudeur, L’amour n’a plus de gout, non plus que la dispute; Adieu […]...
13. Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. Opposites The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child Walked out into the street And splashed in all the pubbles till She had such shocking feet The Patent-Leather-Slipper-Child Stayed quietly in the house And sat upon the fender stool As still as any mouse. The Half-Soled-Boots-With-Toecaps-Child Her hands were black as ink; She would come running through the house And begging for […]...
16. 282. Extemporaneous Effusion on being appointed to an Excise Division SEARCHING auld wives’ barrels, Ochon the day! That clarty barm should stain my laurels: But-what’ll ye say? These movin’ things ca’d wives an’ weans, Wad move the very hearts o’ stanes!...
17. Hannah Armstrong I wrote him a letter asking him for old times’ sake To discharge my sick boy from the army; But maybe he couldn’t read it. Then I went to town and had James Garber, Who wrote beautifully, write him a letter. But maybe that was lost in the mails. So I traveled all the way […]...
18. Jumbo Jet I saw a little elephant standing in my garden, I said ‘You don’t belong in here’, he said ‘I beg you pardon?’, I said ‘This place is England, what are you doing here?’, He said ‘Ah, then I must be lost’ and then ‘Oh dear, oh dear’. ‘I should be back in Africa, on Saranghetti’s […]...
19. O Why Do You Walk (a Parody) O why do you walk through the fields in boots, Missing so much and so much? O fat white woman whom nobody shoots, Why do you walk through the fields in boots, When the grass is soft as the breast of coots And shivering-sweet to the touch?...
20. Count That Day Lost If you sit down at set of sun And count the acts that you have done, And, counting, find One self-denying deed, one word That eased the heart of him who heard, One glance most kind That fell like sunshine where it went Then you may count that day well spent. But if, through all […]...
21. Uganda cry i have lost touch over the years With the hot africa inside me Illness and all – i spread to root In the red earth siphoned the sun Loved the black inflections of my eyes Cut callow cords and found new forms Felt free to fashion and freely raised Orchards of feelings where the groves […]...
22. Preaching Vs Practice It is easy to sit in the sunshine And talk to the man in the shade; It is easy to float in a well-trimmed boat, And point out the places to wade. But once we pass into the shadows, We murmur and fret and frown, And, our length from the bank, we shout for a […]...
23. The Sergeant's Weddin&#039 ‘E was warned agin’ ‘er That’s what made ‘im look; She was warned agin’ ‘im That is why she took. ‘Wouldn’t ‘ear no reason, ‘Went an’ done it blind; We know all about ’em, They’ve got all to find! Cheer for the Sergeant’s weddin’ Give ’em one cheer more! Grey gun-‘orses in the lando, An’ […]...
24. I AM NOT A NATIVE OF THIS PLACE I am not a native of this palce.(Yosimasu G.) Nor yet a stranger. With the rst of you I hunt for shade My boots half off To let the air through. My head is on my shoulders & is real. I plant cucumbers Twice a year & count the bounty. Often I read The papers […]...
25. Russia To The Pacifists 1918 God rest you, peaceful gentlemen, let nothing you dismay, But leave your sports a little while the dead are borne this way! Armies dead and Cities dead, past all count or care. God rest you, merry gentlemen, what portent see you there? Singing: Break ground for a wearied host That have no ground to […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. A Far Cry From Africa A wind is ruffling the tawny pelt Of Africa, Kikuyu, quick as flies, Batten upon the bloodstreams of the veldt. Corpses are scattered through a paradise. Only the worm, colonel of carrion, cries: “Waste no compassion on these separate dead!” Statistics justify and scholars seize The salients of colonial policy. What is that to the […]...
28. You'll know Her by Her Foot You’ll know Her by Her Foot The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers where the Toes should be Would more affront the Sand Than this Quaint Creature’s Boot Adjusted by a Stern Without a Button I could vouch Unto a Velvet Limb You’ll know Her by Her Vest Tight fitting Orange Brown Inside a Jacket duller […]...
29. O Daedalus, Fly Away Home (For Maia and Julie) Drifting night in the Georgia pines, Coonskin drum and jubilee banjo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is juba, night is congo. Pretty Malinda, dance with me. Night is an African juju man Weaving a wish and a weariness together To make two wings. O fly away home fly away Do […]...
30. We Astronomers We astronomers are nomads, Merchants, circus people, All the earth our tent. We are industrious. We breed enthusiasms, Honour our responsibility to awe. But the universe has moved a long way off. Sometimes, I confess, Starlight seems too sharp, And like the moon I bend my face to the ground, To the small patch where […]...
31. Although I put away his life Although I put away his life An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear, This might have been the Hand That sowed the flower, he preferred Or smoothed a homely pain, Or pushed the pebble from his path Or played his chosen tune On Lute the least the latest But just his […]...
32. The News 1) Eleven forty-five a. m. Someone sent me news Through the rain: “good mourning!” 2) I hastened to you, father Though none of us could prevent These two things from befalling...
33. Those Winter Sundays Sundays too my father got up early And put his clothes on in the blueback cold, Then with cracked hands that ached From labor in the weekday weather made Banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking. When the rooms were warm, he’d call, And slowly I […]...
34. A Boy Scouts'Patrol Song 1913 These are our regulations There’s just one law for the Scout And the first and the last, and the present and the past, And the future and the perfect is “Look out!” I, thou and he, look out! We, ye and they, look out! Though you didn’t or you wouldn’t Or you hadn’t or […]...
35. A Tribute to Henry M. Stanley Welcome, thrice welcome, to the city of Dundee, The great African explorer Henry M Stanley, Who went out to Africa its wild regions to explore, And travelled o’er wild and lonely deserts, fatigued and footsore. And what he and his little band suffered will never be forgot, Especially one in particular, Major Edmund Barttelot, Alas! […]...
36. Rhyme Builder I envy not those gay galoots Who count on dying in their boots; For that, to tell the sober truth Sould be the privilege of youth; But aged bones are better sped To heaven from a downy bed. So prop me up with pillows two, And serve me with the barley brew; And put a […]...
37. To Her Father with Some Verses Most truly honoured, and as truly dear, If worth in me or ought I do appear, Who can of right better demand the same Than may your worthy self from whom it came? The principal might yield a greater sum, Yet handled ill, amounts but to this crumb; My stock’s so small I know not […]...
38. Your Dad Did What? Where they have been, if they have been away, Or what they’ve done at home, if they have not – You make them write about the holiday. One writes My Dad did. What? Your Dad did what? That’s not a sentence. Never mind the bell. We stay behind until the work is done. You count […]...
39. The Census-Taker I came an errand one cloud-blowing evening To a slab-built, black-paper-covered house Of one room and one window and one door, The only dwelling in a waste cut over A hundred square miles round it in the mountains: And that not dwelt in now by men or women. (It never had been dwelt in, though, […]...
40. At Eighty Years As nothingness draws near How I can see Inexorably clear My vanity. My sum of worthiness Always so small, Dwindles from less to less To none at all. As grisly destiny Claims me at last, How grievous seem to me Sins of my past! How keen a conscience edge Can come to be! How pitiless […]...