Concerning Emperors

Related poetry:

1. Expectans Expectavi From morn to midnight, all day through, I laugh and play as others do, I sin and chatter, just the same As others with a different name. And all year long upon the stage I dance and tumble and do rage So vehemently, I scarcely see The inner and eternal me. I have a temple […]...
2. 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 […]...
3. 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; […]...
4. On Your Midnight Pallet Lying On your midnight pallet lying, Listen, and undo the door: Lads that waste the light in sighing In the dark should sigh no more; Night should ease a lover’s sorrow; Therefore, since I go to-morrow, Pity me before. In the land to which I travel, The far dwelling, let me say Once, if here the […]...
5. On Hearing Of A Death We lack all knowledge of this parting. Death Does not deal with us. We have no reason To show death admiration, love or hate; His mask of feigned tragic lament gives us A false impression. The world’s stage is still Filled with roles which we play. While we worry That our performances may not please, […]...
6. Stalk Me Liner Notes – (from Love Is A Dog From Hell) My friend Jenny is really Worried that people are going to follow me around and send me dead animal Parts and doll heads as a result of this song but please, if you feel inclined To send me dead animal parts, think it through. Thanks. […]...
7. Hotel Insomnia I liked my little hole, Its window facing a brick wall. Next door there was a piano. A few evenings a month A crippled old man came to play “My Blue Heaven.” Mostly, though, it was quiet. Each room with its spider in heavy overcoat Catching his fly with a web Of cigarette smoke and […]...
8. The Last Supper They are assembled, astonished and disturbed Round him, who like a sage resolved his fate, And now leaves those to whom he most belonged, Leaving and passing by them like a stranger. The loneliness of old comes over him Which helped mature him for his deepest acts; Now will he once again walk through the […]...
9. The Conspiracy You send me your poems, I’ll send you mine. Things tend to awaken Even through random communication Let us suddenly Proclaim spring. And jeer At the others, All the others. I will send a picture too If you will send me one of you....
10. The Scissors-Grinder The old man had his box and wheel For grinding knives and shears. No doubt his bell in village streets Was joy to children’s ears. And I bethought me of my youth When such men came around, And times I asked them in, quite sure The scissors should be ground. The old man turned and […]...
11. On The Life Of Man What is our life? a play of passion; Our mirth the musick of division: Our mother’s wombes the tyring houses bee Where wee are drest for tyme’s short comedy: The earth’s the stage, heaven the spectator is, Who marketh still whoere doth act amisse: Our graves that hide us from the burning sunne Are but […]...
12. Round About Midnight Jazz radio on a midnight kick, Round about Midnight. Sitting on the bed, With a jazz type chick Round about Midnight, Piano laughter, in my ears, Round about Midnight. Stirring up laughter, dying tears, Round about Midnight. Soft blue voices, muted grins, Excited voices, Father’s sins, Round about Midnight. Come on baby, take off your […]...
13. Our Hired Girl Our hired girl, she’s ‘Lizabuth Ann; An’ she can cook best things to eat! She ist puts dough in our pie-pan, An’ pours in somepin’ ‘at’s good an’ sweet; An’ nen she salts it all on top With cinnamon; an’ nen she’ll stop An’ stoop an’ slide it, ist as slow, In th’ old cook-stove, […]...
14. Lines in Defence of the Stage Good people of high and low degree, I pray ye all be advised by me, And don’t believe what the clergy doth say, That by going to the theatre you will be led astray. No, in the theatre we see vice punished and virtue rewarded, The villain either hanged or shot, and his career retarded; […]...
15. An Address to Shakespeare Immortal! William Shakespeare, there’s none can you excel, You have drawn out your characters remarkably well, Which is delightful for to see enacted upon the stage For instance, the love-sick Romeo, or Othello, in a rage; His writings are a treasure, which the world cannot repay, He was the greatest poet of the past or […]...
16. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
17. Devonshire Street W.1 The heavy mahogany door with its wrought-iron screen Shuts. And the sound is rich, sympathetic, discreet. The sun still shines on this eighteenth-century scene With Edwardian faience adornment Devonshire Street. No hope. And the X-ray photographs under his arm Confirm the message. His wife stands timidly by. The opposite brick-built house looks lofty and calm […]...
18. The Grey Monk “I die, I die!” the Mother said, “My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless Tyrant said?” The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk’s side, His hands and feet were wounded wide, His body bent, his arms and knees Like to the […]...
19. THE COUNTRY SCHOOLMASTER I. A MASTER of a country school Jump’d up one day from off his stool, Inspired with firm resolve to try To gain the best society; So to the nearest baths he walk’d, And into the saloon he stalk’d. He felt quite. startled at the door, Ne’er having seen the like before. To the first […]...
20. The Token Send me some token, that my hope may live, Or that my easeless thoughts may sleep and rest; Send me some honey to make sweet my hive, That in my passions I may hope the best. I beg no riband wrought with thine own hands, To knit our loves in the fantastic strain Of new-touched […]...
21. Today If ever there were a spring day so perfect, So uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze That it made you want to throw Open all the windows in the house And unlatch the door to the canary’s cage, Indeed, rip the little door from its jamb, A day when the cool brick paths And the […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. The Neighborhood I wish I could, like some, forget, And never anguish, nor regret, Dismissive, free to roam the street, No matter how The visions meet. Remembrance is a neighborhood Where convicts live with great and good, Its roads of red, uneven brick, Whose surfaces – both rough and slick – Spread out into a patchwork plan. […]...
24. At Variance When with me the play she goes, I much admire the buds and bows And all that on Kate’s headgear grows. But when some other night I see That hat between the stage and me, My taste and Kate’s do not agree....
25. The Flower-Fed Buffaloes THE flower-fed buffaloes of the spring In the days of long ago, Ranged where the locomotives sing And the prarie flowers lie low: The tossing, blooming, perfumed grass Is swept away by wheat, Wheels and wheels and wheels spin by In the spring that still is sweet. But the flower-fed buffaloes of the spring Left […]...
26. Lapis Lazuli (For Harry Clifton) I HAVE heard that hysterical women say They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow. Of poets that are always gay, For everybody knows or else should know That if nothing drastic is done Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out. Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in Until the town lie beaten flat. […]...
27. Psalm 63 part 2 v.6-10 C. M. Midnight thoughts recollected. ‘Twas in the watches of the night I thought upon thy power, I kept thy lovely face in sight Amidst the darkest hour. My flesh lay resting on my bed, My soul arose on high: “My God, my life, my hope,” I said, “Bring thy salvation nigh.” My spirit […]...
28. The Rhyme Of The Remittance Man There’s a four-pronged buck a-swinging in the shadow of my cabin, And it roamed the velvet valley till to-day; But I tracked it by the river, and I trailed it in the cover, And I killed it on the mountain miles away. Now I’ve had my lazy supper, and the level sun is gleaming On […]...
29. St. Peter and the Angel Delivered out of raw continual pain, Smell of darkness, groans of those others To whom he was chained Unchained, and led Past the sleepers, Door after door silently opening Out! And along a long street’s Majestic emptiness under the moon: One hand on the angel’s shoulder, one Feeling the air before him, Eyes open but […]...
30. S. I. W “I will to the King, And offer him consolation in his trouble, For that man there has set his teeth to die, And being one that hates obedience, Discipline, and orderliness of life, I cannot mourn him.” W. B. Yeats. Patting goodbye, doubtless they told the lad He’d always show the Hun a brave man’s […]...
31. Poems On The Slave Trade – Sonnet IV ‘Tis night; the mercenary tyrants sleep As undisturb’d as Justice! but no more The wretched Slave, as on his native shore, Rests on his reedy couch: he wakes to weep! Tho’ thro’ the toil and anguish of the day No tear escap’d him, not one suffering groan Beneath the twisted thong, he weeps alone In […]...
32. A Message from my Lodge at Wangchuan to Pei Di The mountains are cold and blue now And the autumn waters have run all day. By my thatch door, leaning on my staff, I listen to cicadas in the evening wind. Sunset lingers at the ferry, Supper-smoke floats up from the houses. …Oh, when shall I pledge the great Hermit again And sing a wild […]...
33. I could die to know I could die to know ‘Tis a trifling knowledge News-Boys salute the Door Carts joggle by Morning’s bold face stares in the window Were but mine the Charter of the least Fly Houses hunch the House With their Brick Shoulders Coals from a Rolling Load rattle how near To the very Square His foot is […]...
34. God permits industrious Angels God permits industrious Angels Afternoons to play I met one forgot my Schoolmates All for Him straightway God calls home the Angels promptly At the Setting Sun I missed mine how dreary Marbles After playing Crown!...
35. The Frog Comes to mind as another small upheaval Amongst the rubble. His eye matches exactly the bubble In my spirit-level. I set aside hammer and chisel And take him on the trowel. The entire population of Ireland Springs from a pair left to stand Overnight in a pond In the gardens of Trinity College, Two bottle […]...
36. The Press “The Village That Voted the Earth Was Flat” A Diversity of Creatures The Soldier may forget his Sword, The Sailorman the Sea, The Mason may forget the Word And the Priest his Litany: The Maid may forget both jewel and gem, And the Bride her wedding-dress But the Jew shall forget Jerusalem Ere we forget […]...
37. Corn Hut Talk WRITE your wishes on the door and come in. Stand outside in the pools of the harvest moon. Bring in the handshake of the pumpkins. There’s a wish for every hazel nut? There’s a hope for every corn shock? There’s a kiss for every clumsy climbing shadow? Clover and the bumblebees once, High winds and […]...
38. Menelaus and Helen I Hot through Troy’s ruin Menelaus broke To Priam’s palace, sword in hand, to sate On that adulterous whore a ten years’ hate And a king’s honour. Through red death, and smoke, And cries, and then by quieter ways he strode, Till the still innermost chamber fronted him. He swung his sword, and crashed into […]...
39. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...
40. My Groupie I read last Saturday in the Redwoods outside of Santa Cruz And I was about 3/4’s finished When I heard a long high scream And a quite attractive Young girl came running toward me Long gown & divine eyes of fire And she leaped up on the stage And screamed: “I WANT YOU! I WANT […]...