The Hippopotamus

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1. The Hippopotamus Behold the hippopotamus! We laugh at how he looks to us, And yet in moments dank and grim, I wonder how we look to him. Peace, peace, thou hippopotamus! We really look all right to us, As you no doubt delight the eye Of other hippopotami....
2. Bredon Hill In summertime on Bredon The bells they sound so clear; Round both the shires they ring them In steeples far and near, A happy noise to hear. Here of a Sunday morning My love and I would lie, And see the coloured counties, And hear the larks so high About us in the sky. The […]...
3. 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 […]...
4. Smoke I SIT in a chair and read the newspapers. Millions of men go to war, acres of them are buried, guns and ships broken, cities burned, villages sent up in smoke, and children where cows are killed off amid hoarse barbecues vanish like finger-rings of smoke in a north wind. I sit in a chair […]...
5. The Sad Mother Sleep, sleep, my beloved, Without worry, without fear, Although my soul does not sleep, Although I do not rest. Sleep, sleep, and in the night May your whispers be softer Than a leaf of grass, Or the silken fleece of lambs. May my flesh slumber in you, My worry, my trembling. In you, may my […]...
6. He Came To Read He came to read. Two or three books Are open; historians and poets. But he only read for ten minutes, And gave them up. He is dozing On the sofa. He is fully devoted to books But he is twenty-three years old, and he’s very handsome; And this afternoon love passed Through his ideal flesh, […]...
7. Contrasts I see the tall church steeples, They reach so far, so far, But the eyes of my heart see the world’s great mart, Where the starving people are. I hear the church bells ringing Their chimes on the morning air; But my soul’s sad ear is hurt to hear The poor man’s cry of despair. […]...
8. A Dead Boche To you who’d read my songs of War And only hear of blood and fame, I’ll say (you’ve heard it said before) ВЂќWar’s Hell! ” and if you doubt the same, Today I found in Mametz Wood A certain cure for lust of blood: Where, propped against a shattered trunk, In a great mess of […]...
9. Knoxville Tennessee I always like summer Best You can eat fresh corn From daddy’s garden And okra And greens And cabbage And lots of Barbeque And buttermilk And homemade ice-cream At the church picnic And listen to Gospel music Outside At the church Homecoming And go to the mountains with Your grandmother And go barefooted And be […]...
10. The Poetry Reading at high noon At a small college near the beach Sober The sweat running down my arms A spot of sweat on the table I flatten it with my finger Blood money blood money My god they must think I love this like the others But it’s for bread and beer and rent Blood money […]...
11. Sonnet V: It Is Most True It is most true, that eyes are form’d to serve The inward light; and that the heavenly part Ought to be king, from whose rules who do swerve, Rebles to Nature, strive for their own smart. It is most true, what we call Cupid’s dart, An image is, which for ourselves we carve: And, fools, […]...
12. Sunt Leones The lions who ate the Christians on the sands of the arena By indulging native appetites played was now been seen a Not entirely negligible part In consolidating at the very start The position of the Early Christian Church. Initiatory rights are always bloody In the lions, it appears From contemporary art, made a study […]...
13. Dead Cow Farm An ancient saga tells us how In the beginning the First Cow (For nothing living yet had birth But Elemental Cow on earth) Began to lick cold stones and mud: Under her warm tongue flesh and blood Blossomed, a miracle to believe: And so was Adam born, and Eve. Here now is chaos once again, […]...
14. Sleep Do you give yourself to me utterly, Body and no-body, flesh and no-flesh Not as a fugitive, blindly or bitterly, But as a child might, with no other wish? Yes, utterly. Then I shall bear you down my estuary, Carry you and ferry you to burial mysteriously, Take you and receive you, Consume you, engulf […]...
15. The Gardener XIV: I Was Walking by the Road I was walking by the road, I do not Know why, when the noonday was past And bamboo branches rustled in the Wind. The prone shadows with their out- Stretched arms clung to the feet of The hurrying light. The koels were weary of their Songs. I was walking by the road, I do not […]...
16. Lydia Humphrey Back and forth, back and forth, to and from the church, With my Bible under my arm Till I was gray and old; Unwedded, alone in the world, Finding brothers and sisters in the congregation, And children in the church. I know they laughed and thought me queer. I knew of the eagle souls that […]...
17. Psalm 132 v.5,13-18 L. M. At the settlement of a church, or the ordination of a minister. Where shall we go to seek and find An habitation for our God, A dwelling for th’ Eternal Mind, Among the sons of flesh and blood? The God of Jacob chose the hill Of Zion for his ancient rest; And […]...
18. Norse lullaby The sky is dark and the hills are white As the storm-king speeds from the north to-night, And this is the song the storm-king sings, As over the world his cloak he flings: “Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;” He rustles his wings and gruffly sings: “Sleep, little one, sleep.” On yonder mountain-side a vine Clings […]...
19. The Man Who Knew The Dreamer visioned Life as it might be, And from his dream forthright a picture grew, A painting all the people thronged to see, And joyed therein till came the Man Who Knew, Saying: “‘Tis bad! Why do ye gape, ye fools! He painteth not according to the schools.” The Dreamer probed Life’s mystery of […]...
20. London I wander thro’ each charter’d street. Near where the charter’d Thames does flow A mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man. In every Infants cry of fear. In every voice; in every ban. The mind-forg’d manacles I hear How the Chimney-sweepers cry Every blackening […]...
21. The Divine Lullaby I hear Thy voice, dear Lord; I hear it by the stormy sea When winter nights are black and wild, And when, affright, I call to Thee; It calms my fears and whispers me, “Sleep well, my child.” I hear Thy voice, dear Lord, In singing winds, in falling snow, The curfew chimes, the midnight […]...
22. The Growth of Lorraine I While I stood listening, discreetly dumb, Lorraine was having the last word with me: ВЂњI know, ” she said, “I know it, but you see Some creatures are born fortunate, and some Are born to be found out and overcome, — Born to be slaves, to let the rest go free; And if I’m […]...
23. A Love Song from the North Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha, Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha, Dreams of delight that are gone, When swift to my side came the feet of my lover With stars of the dusk and the dawn? I see the soft wings of the clouds on the river, And jewelled with raindrops […]...
24. Perfection If I could practise what I preach, Of fellows there would few be finer; If I were true to what I teach My life would be a lot diviner. If I would act the way I speak, Of halo I might be a winner: The spirit wills, the flesh is weak, I’m just a simple […]...
25. Sound And Sense True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance. ‘Tis not enough no harshness gives offense, The sound must seem an echo to the sense: Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows; But when loud surges lash […]...
26. Diary of a Church Mouse Here among long-discarded cassocks, Damp stools, and half-split open hassocks, Here where the vicar never looks I nibble through old service books. Lean and alone I spend my days Behind this Church of England baize. I share my dark forgotten room With two oil-lamps and half a broom. The cleaner never bothers me, So here […]...
27. SUMMER FEVER The unsettled trees seem to share My tensions of body and mind: Unable to move before the shell of the wind, Yielding as much as their nature allows, They will break if pushed too far, Splinter to show the white flesh of their wood And sweet transparencies of sap. If 1 am pushed too far […]...
28. Wake Not for the World-Heard Thunder Wake not for the world-heard thunder, Nor the chimes that earthquakes toll; Stars may plot in heaven with planet, Lightning rive the rock of granite, Tempest tread the oakwood under, Fear not you for flesh or soul; Marching, fighting, victory past, Stretch your limbs in peace at last. Stir not for the soldier’s drilling, Nor […]...
29. Freethinker Although the Preacher be a bore, The Atheist is even more. I ain’t religious worth a damn; My views are reckoned to be broad; And yet I shut up like a clam When folks get figgerin’ on God; I’d hate my kids to think like me, And though they leave me in the lurch, I’m […]...
30. All All And All The Dry Worlds Lever I All all and all the dry worlds lever, Stage of the ice, the solid ocean, All from the oil, the pound of lava. City of spring, the governed flower, Turns in the earth that turns the ashen Towns around on a wheel of fire. How now my flesh, my naked fellow, Dug of the […]...
31. Picnic Boat SUNDAY night and the park policemen tell each other it Is dark as a stack of black cats on Lake Michigan. A big picnic boat comes home to Chicago from the peach Farms of Saugatuck. Hundreds of electric bulbs break the night’s darkness, a Flock of red and yellow birds with wings at a standstill. […]...
32. Psalm 51 part 2 Original and actual sin confessed. Lord, I am vile, conceived in sin; And born unholy and unclean; Sprung from the man whose guilty fall Corrupts the race, and taints us all. Soon as we draw our infant breath, The seeds of sin grow up for death; Thy law demands a perfect heart, But we’re defiled […]...
33. Jacke-On-Both-Sides I hold as fayth What Rome’s Church sayth Where the King’s head, That flock’s misled Where th’ Altar’s drest That People’s blest Who shuns the Masse Hee’s but an Asse Who Charity preach They Heav’n soone reach On Fayth t’rely, ‘Tis heresy What England’s Church allows My Conscience disavowes; That Church can have no seame; […]...
34. Sten There is a knocking in the skull, An endless silent shout Of something beating on a wall, And crying, “Let me out! ” That solitary prisoner Will never hear reply. No comrade in eternity Can hear the frantic cry. No heart can share the terror That haunts his monstrous dark. The light that filters through […]...
35. Postcards I’m thinking about you. What else can I say? The palm trees on the reverse Are a delusion; so is the pink sand. What we have are the usual Fractured coke bottles and the smell Of backed-up drains, too sweet, Like a mango on the verge Of rot, which we have also. The air clear […]...
36. The Manor Farm THE rock-like mud unfroze a little, and rills Ran and sparkled down each side of the road Under the catkins wagging in the hedge. But earth would have her sleep out, spite of the sun; Nor did I value that thin gliding beam More than a pretty February thing Till I came down to the […]...
37. At the Zoo There are lions and roaring tigers, And enormous camels and things, There are biffalo-buffalo-bisons, And a great big bear with wings. There’s a sort of a tiny potamus, And a tiny nosserus too – But I gave buns to the elephant When I went down to the Zoo! There are badgers and bidgers and bodgers, […]...
38. Do You Hear The Angel Speaking? Do you hear the angel speaking? Do you hear her heavenly voice? Do you hear the song she’s singing? Will you help her to rejoice? Do you hear her when you’re weary And find it hard to cope? Do you hear her inspiration and Her messages of hope? Do you hear her voice of wisdom… […]...
39. In My Lodge at Wang Chuan,(After a Long Rain.) The woods have stored the rain, and slow comes the smoke As rice is cooked on faggots and carried to the fields; Over the quiet marsh-land flies a white egret, And mango-birds are singing in the full summer trees…. I have learned to watch in peace the mountain morningglories, To eat split dewy sunflower-seeds under […]...
40. The Little Vagabond Dear Mother, dear Mother, the Church is cold, But the Ale-house is healthy & pleasant & warm: Besides I can tell where I am use’d well, Such usage in heaven will never do well. But if at the Church they would give us some Ale. And a pleasant fire, our souls to regale: We’d sing […]...