Before The Game

Related poetry:

1. A Negro Love Song Seen my lady home las’ night, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hel’ huh han’ an’ sque’z it tight, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd huh sigh a little sigh, Seen a light gleam f’om huh eye, An’ a smile go flittin’ by Jump back, honey, jump back. Hyeahd de win’ blow thoo de pine, Jump […]...
2. LAO-TSE PREPARES A VERDICT Nothing of what I say May deviate the fall of a leaf. A word will not Detain the other one. It’s useless for me to dedicate A truth to these listeners: They will turn it into pieces. From its pieces Lao-Tsé will be born....
3. Style Flaubert wanted to write a novel About nothing. It was to have no subject And be sustained upon the style alone, Like the Holy Ghost cruising above The abyss, or like the little animals In Disney cartoons who stand upon a branch That breaks, but do not fall Till they look down. He never wrote […]...
4. To win a game How do you win a football game? Not by skill alone or clever plays, In modern days the game has changed and subterfuge and actors Ways will pave the path to glory. Fitness pays a fair reward to keep A fleetness in the feet, a clearness in the head, and special food And clever drinks […]...
5. The Night Game Some of us believe We would have conceived romantic Love out of our own passions With no precedents, Without songs and poetry Or have invented poetry and music As a comb of cells for the honey. Shaped by ignorance, A succession of new worlds, Congruities improvised by Immigrants or children. I once thought most people […]...
6. Gorgeous Surfaces They are, the surfaces, gorgeous: a master Pastry chef at work here, the dips and whorls, The wrist-twist Squeezes of cream from the tube To the tart, sweet bleak sugarwork, needlework Toward the perfect lace doily Where sit the bone-china teacups, a little maze Of meaning maybe in their arrangement Sneaky obliques, shadow Allusives all […]...
7. It dropped so low in my Regard It dropped so low in my Regard I heard it hit the Ground And go to pieces on the Stones At bottom of my Mind Yet blamed the Fate that flung it less Than I denounced Myself, For entertaining Plated Wares Upon my Silver Shelf...
8. Tired And Unhappy, You Think Of Houses Tired and unhappy, you think of houses Soft-carpeted and warm in the December evening, While snow’s white pieces fall past the window, And the orange firelight leaps. A young girl sings That song of Gluck where Orpheus pleads with Death; Her elders watch, nodding their happiness To see time fresh again in her self-conscious eyes: […]...
9. The Poet Of Ignorance Perhaps the earth is floating, I do not know. Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups Made by some giant scissors, I do not know. Perhaps the moon is a frozen tear, I do not know. Perhaps God is only a deep voice Heard by the deaf, I do not know. Perhaps I am no […]...
10. June 19 What is it about the Abyss That tempts the young poet to kiss The air and head for the nearest cliff? This Unreasonable attachment to the bliss Of falling what accounts for it? Unlike the hiss Announcing a reptilian presence, the word Abyss Creates the object of our dread: it exists, it is, Widening like […]...
11. Memoriam A. H. H.: 44. How fares it with the happy dead? How fares it with the happy dead? For here the man is more and more; But he forgets the days before God shut the doorways of his head. The days have vanish’d, tone and tint, And yet perhaps the hoarding sense Gives out at times (he knows not whence) A little flash, a mystic hint; […]...
12. Being old in the game It was a half-life that seemed like a genuine world Wielding hard symbolism over those who ruled it; we Lived vaguely in teen-easy ambivalence whilst our peers Took their chances in ordered existence, wearing Their office with pride and esteem. The guises we Wore were a mask, a dream in denial of their system, Its […]...
13. Tickets to the game I asked my Dad about the War when I was very young, He said it happened a long, long time ago And a long, long way away, he seemed a little vague On the subject so I relented, I thought he hadn’t attended. I never knew he got sent tickets to go and only went […]...
14. A Game of Fives Five little girls, of Five, Four, Three, Two, One: Rolling on the hearthrug, full of tricks and fun. Five rosy girls, in years from Ten to Six: Sitting down to lessons – no more time for tricks. Five growing girls, from Fifteen to Eleven: Music, Drawing, Languages, and food enough for seven! Five winsome girls, […]...
15. Small Game In borrowed boots which don’t fit And an old olive greatcoat, I hunt the corn-fed rabbit, Game fowl, squirrel, starved bobcat, Anything small. I bring down Young deer wandered from the doe’s Gaze, and reload, and move on Leaving flesh to inform crows. At dusk they seem to suspect Me, burrowed in a corn field […]...
16. The Puzzled Game-Birds They are not those who used to feed us When we were young they cannot be – These shapes that now bereave and bleed us? They are not those who used to feed us, – For would they not fair terms concede us? – If hearts can house such treachery They are not those who […]...
17. The Gardener XXVIII: Your Questioning Eyes Your questioning eyes are sad. They Seek to know my meaning as the moon Would fathom the sea. I have bared my life before your Eyes from end to end, with nothing Hidden or held back. That is why you Know me not. If it were only a gem, I could break It into a […]...
18. The Crowd At The Ball Game The crowd at the ball game Is moved uniformly By a spirit of uselessness Which delights them – All the exciting detail Of the chase And the escape, the error The flash of genius – All to no end save beauty The eternal – So in detail they, the crowd, Are beautiful For this To […]...
19. ANSWERS IN A GAME OF QUESTIONS THE LADY. IN the small and great world too, What most charms a woman’s heart? It is doubtless what is new, For its blossoms joy impart; Nobler far is what is true, For fresh blossoms it can shoot Even in the time of fruit. THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN. With the Nymphs in wood and cave Paris […]...
20. Love Compared To A Game Of Tables Love is a game at tables where the dye Of mayds affections doth by fancie fly: If once you catch their fancie in a blott It’s tenne to one if then you enter not: You being a gamester then may boldly venter, And if you finde the point lye open enter: But marke them well, […]...
21. Dusk DUSK wraps the village in its dim caress; Each chimney’s vapour, like a thin grey rod, Mounting aloft through miles of quietness, Pillars the skies of God. Far up they break or seem to break their line, Mingling their nebulous crests that bow and nod Under the light of those fierce stars that shine Out […]...
22. The Blues What did I think, a storm clutching a clarinet And boarding a downtown bus, headed for lessons? I had pieces to learn by heart, but at twelve You think the heart and memory are different. “‘It’s a poor sort of memory that only works Backwards,’ the Queen remarked.” Alice in Wonderland. Although I knew the […]...
23. White Cockatoos Now the autumn maize is growing, Now the corn-cob fills, Where the Little River flowing Winds among the hills. Over mountain peaks outlying Clear against the blue Comes a scout in silence flying, One white cockatoo. Back he goes to where the meeting Waits among the trees. Says, “The corn is fit for eating; Hurry, […]...
24. The Amateur Rider Him goin’ to ride for us! Him with the pants and the eyeglass and all. Amateur! don’t he just look it it’s twenty to one on a fall. Boss must be gone off his head to be sending out steeplechase crack Out over fences like these with an object like that on his back. Ride! […]...
25. To His Honoured and Most Ingenious Friend Mr. Charles Cotton For brave comportment, wit without offence, Words fully flowing, yet of influence: Thou art that man of men, the man alone, Worthy the public admiration: Who with thine own eyes read’st what we do write, And giv’st our numbers euphony, and weight. Tell’st when a verse springs high, how understood To be, or not born […]...
26. Aprons of Silence MANY things I might have said today. And I kept my mouth shut. So many times I was asked To come and say the same things Everybody was saying, no end To the yes-yes, yes-yes, me-too, me-too. The aprons of silence covered me. A wire and hatch held my tongue. I spit nails into an […]...
27. The Craftsmen Of The Little Box Don’t open the little box Heaven’s hat will fall out of her Don’t close her for any reason She’ll bite the trouser-leg of eternity Don’t drop her on the earth The sun’s eggs will break inside her Don’t throw her in the air Earth’s bones will break inside her Don’t hold her in your hands […]...
28. A Celebration of Charis: I. His Excuse for Loving Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers; Poets, though divine, are men, Some have lov’d as old again. And it is not always face, Clothes, or fortune, gives the grace; Or the feature, or the youth. But […]...
29. Ode To a Large Tuna in the Market Among the market greens, A bullet From the ocean Depths, A swimming Projectile, I saw you, Dead. All around you Were lettuces, Sea foam Of the earth, Carrots, Grapes, But Of the ocean Truth, Of the unknown, Of the Unfathomable Shadow, the Depths Of the sea, The abyss, Only you had survived, A pitch-black, varnished […]...
30. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
31. Consolation See, Phoebus breaking from the willing skies, See, how the soaring Lark, does with him rise, And through the air, is such a journy borne As if she never thought of a return. Now, to his noon, behold him proudly goe, And look with scorn, on all that’s great below. A Monark he, and ruler […]...
32. Again And Again, However We Know The Landscape Of Love Again and again, however we know the landscape of love And the little churchyard there, with its sorrowing names, And the frighteningly silent abyss into which the others Fall: again and again the two of us walk out together Under the ancient trees, lie down again and again Among the flowers, face to face with […]...
33. Still In sealed box cars travel Names across the land, And how far they will travel so, And will they ever get out, Don’t ask, I won’t say, I don’t know. The name Nathan strikes fist against wall, The name Isaac, demented, sings, The name Sarah calls out for water for The name Aaron that’s dying […]...
34. 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 […]...
35. Merlin O Merlin in your crystal cave Deep in the diamond of the day, Will there ever be a singer Whose music will smooth away The furrow drawn by Adam’s finger Across the memory and the wave? Or a runner who’ll outrun Man’s long shadow driving on, Break through the gate of memory And hang the […]...
36. Underneath (9) Spring Up, up you go, you must be introduced. You must learn belonging to (no-one) Drenched in the white veil (day) The circle of minutes pushed gleaming onto your finger. Gaps pocking the brightness where you try to see In. Missing: corners, fields, Completeness: holes growing in it where the eye looks hardest. Below, his […]...
37. Psalm 71 part 3 v.17-21 C. M. The aged Christian’s prayer and song. God of my childhood and my youth, The guide of all my days, I have declared thy heav’nly truth, And told thy wondrous ways. Wilt thou forsake my hoary hairs, And leave my fainting heart? Who shall sustain my sinking years, If God my strength depart? […]...
38. The Change POOR River, now thou’rt almost dry, What Nymph, or Swain, will near thee lie? Since brought, alas! to sad Decay, What Flocks, or Herds, will near thee stay? The Swans, that sought thee in thy Pride, Now on new Streams forgetful ride: And Fish, that in thy Bosom lay, Chuse in more prosp’rous Floods to […]...
39. Sorry Dear parents, I forgive you my life, Begotten in a drab town, The intention was good; Passing the street now, I see still the remains of sunlight. It was not the bone buckled; You gave me enough food To renew myself. It was the mind’s weight Kept me bent, as I grew tall. It was […]...
40. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...