The Men Who Wear My Clothes

Related poetry:

1. We Wear the Mask We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes, This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties. Why should the world be overwise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them only see us, while […]...
2. Dead man's clothes Growing up, I propose, Is like wearing a dead man’s clothes. Death has a way of levelling the ground. I have found the closer your relationship The closer the fit; The unsettling bit is the fear Of not fitting the role, or where Your forbear made a name or leashed A reputation, which by imputation […]...
3. Clothes chapter X And the weaver said, “Speak to us of Clothes.” And he answered: Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful. And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain. Would that you could meet the sun and the wind […]...
4. Sonnet 77: Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear, Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste; These vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear, And of this book, this learning mayst thou taste. The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show Of mouthèd graves will give thee memory, Thou by thy dial’s shady stealth mayst […]...
5. UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES Whenas in silks my Julia goes, Till, then, methinks, how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes! Next, when I cast mine eyes, and see That brave vibration each way free; O how that glittering taketh...
6. A faded Boy in sallow Clothes A faded Boy in sallow Clothes Who drove a lonesome Cow To pastures of Oblivion A statesman’s Embryo The Boys that whistled are extinct The Cows that fed and thanked Remanded to a Ballad’s Barn Or Clover’s Retrospect...
7. What Curious Dresses All Men Wear What curious dresses all men wear! The walker you met in a brown study, The President smug in rotogravure, The mannequin, the bathing beauty. The bubble-dancer, the deep-sea diver, The bureaucrat, the adulterer, Hide private parts which I disclose To those who know what a poem knows....
8. Sonnet 15 – Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear Too calm and sad a face in front of thine; For we two look two ways, and cannot shine With the same sunlight on our brow and hair. On me thou lookest with no doubting care, As on a bee shut in a crystalline; Since sorrow hath […]...
9. The Cross of Snow In the long, sleepless watches of the night, A gentle face the face of one long dead Looks at me from the wall, where round its head The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light. Here in this room she died; and soul more white Never through martyrdom of fire was led To its repose; […]...
10. A Question Whene’er I feed the barnyard folk My gentle soul is vexed; My sensibilities are torn And I am sore perplexed. The rooster so politely stands While waiting for his food, But when I feed him, what a change! He then is rough and rude. He crowds his gentle wives aside Or pecks them on the […]...
11. Emmy Emmy’s exquisite youth and her virginal air, Eyes and teeth in the flash of a musical smile, Come to me out of the past, and I see her there As I saw her once for a while. Emmy’s laughter rings in my ears, as bright, Fresh and sweet as the voice of a mountain brook, […]...
12. Clothes Put on a clean shirt Before you die, some Russian said. Nothing with drool, please, No egg spots, no blood, No sweat, no sperm. You want me clean, God, So I’ll try to comply. The hat I was married in, Will it do? White, broad, fake flowers in a tiny array. It’s old-fashioned, as stylish […]...
13. As It Was Written Earth, earth, Riding your merry-go-round Toward extinction, Right to the roots, Thickening the oceans like gravy, Festering in your caves, You are becoming a latrine. Your trees are twisted chairs. Your flowers moan at their mirrors, And cry for a sun that doesn’t wear a mask. Your clouds wear white, Trying to become nuns And […]...
14. I Have Some Friends I have some friends, some worthy friends, And worthy friends are rare: These carpet slippers on my feet, That padded leather chair; This old and shabby dressing-gown, So well the worse of wear. I have some friends, some honest friends, And honest friends are few; My pipe of briar, my open fire, A book that’s […]...
15. Baby Picture It’s in the heart of the grape Where that smile lies. It’s in the good-bye-bow in the hair Where that smile lies. It’s in the clerical collar of the dress Where that smile lies. What smile? The smile of my seventh year, Caught here in the painted photograph. It’s peeling now, age has got it, […]...
16. A Visit To The Asylum Once from a big, big building, When I was small, small, The queer folk in the windows Would smile at me and call. And in the hard wee gardens Such pleasant men would hoe: “Sir, may we touch the little girl’s hair!”- It was so red, you know. They cut me coloured asters With shears […]...
17. The Price of Fame Do I really love you? So let me guess, you’ll think I’m easy prey If I say, okay I do – but it wont get in the way of my impending fame; I will be famous, be assured of that, and please to keep it hidden in Your fancy beggar’s hat. Be it fame or […]...
18. LOVE DISLIKES NOTHING Whatsoever thing I see, Rich or poor although it be, ‘Tis a mistress unto me. Be my girl or fair or brown, Does she smile, or does she frown; Still I write a sweet-heart down. Be she rough, or smooth of skin; When I touch, I then begin For to let affection in. Be she […]...
19. FAIRY TALE I can scare children As the Victorians aimed to do Even on an August beach Tell a fairy tale One woven more cruel Than castles turned to sand and Washed into oblivion By the evening tide I can think a tale In sea forests Black haemorrhoid weed Where pebbles become life form Or unfortunates petrified […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. Tales in the beginning Tales in the beginning didn’t begin in the telling, They would have started no doubt, but not without A concrete bearing, a causal opening and a beckoning Ending (at least tacitly implied), otherwise devout Listeners would have opted out. For a tale to begin with no known point of origin, With no sequencing and no […]...
22. Come, My Celia Come, my Celia, let us prove While we may, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain. Suns that set may rise again; But if once we lose this light, ‘Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer […]...
23. Song To Celia – I Come, my Celia, let us prove While we may the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns that set may rise again, But if once we lose this light, ‘Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer […]...
24. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the […]...
25. After the Winter Some day, when trees have shed their leaves And against the morning’s white The shivering birds beneath the eaves Have sheltered for the night, We’ll turn our faces southward, love, Toward the summer isle Where bamboos spire to shafted grove And wide-mouthed orchids smile. And we will seek the quiet hill Where towers the cotton […]...
26. The Reason Why I'm Fat I thought my father was far too fat – eagerly I told him so, If he was offended it didn’t show and I don’t recall Where that strange conversation went. Now I know He was offended – as I am too, it is not a jibe to Pass off lightly, no matter who accuses you […]...
27. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...
28. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
29. My Soul is Dark My soul is dark – Oh! quickly string The harp I yet can brook to hear; And let thy gentle fingers fling Its melting murmurs o’er mine ear. If in this heart a hope be dear, That sound shall charm it forth again: If in these eyes there lurk a tear, ‘Twill flow, and cease […]...
30. The Liars (March, 1919)A LIAR goes in fine clothes. A liar goes in rags. A liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes. A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells and dies in a life of lies. And the stonecutters earn a living-with lies-on the tombs of liars. Aliar looks ’em in […]...
31. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
32. Our Mat It came from the prison this morning, Close-twisted, neat-lettered, and flat; It lies the hall doorway adorning, A very good style of a mat. Prison-made! how the spirit is moven As we think of its story of dread What wiles of the wicked are woven And spun in its intricate thread! The letters are new, […]...
33. Old Tom Again Things out of perfection sail, And all their swelling canvas wear, Nor shall the self-begotten fail Though fantastic men suppose Building-yard and stormy shore, Winding-sheet and swaddling – clothes....
34. God's Battleground God dwells in you; in pride and shame, In all you do to blight or bless; In all you are of praise and blame, In beauty or in ugliness. “Divine Creation” – What a fraud! God did not make you. . . You make God. God lives in me, in all I feel Of love […]...
35. Warning When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandles, and say we’ve no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired And gobble up […]...
36. All That I Owe The Fellows Of The Grave All that I owe the fellows of the grave And all the dead bequeathed from pale estates Lies in the fortuned bone, the flask of blood, Like senna stirs along the ravaged roots. O all I owe is all the flesh inherits, My fathers’ loves that pull upon my nerves, My sisters tears that sing […]...
37. To One Who Has Been Long In City Pent To one who has been long in city pent, ‘Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of heaven, to breathe a prayer Full in the smile of the blue firmament. Who is more happy, when, with heart’s content, Fatigued he sinks into some pleasant lair Of wavy grass, and reads a […]...
38. 214. Song-How Long and Dreary is the Night HOW long and dreary is the night, When I am frae my dearie! I sleepless lie frae e’en to morn, Tho’ I were ne’er so weary: I sleepless lie frae e’en to morn, Tho’ I were ne’er sae weary! When I think on the happy days I spent wi’ you my dearie: And now what […]...
39. My Vision Wherever my feet may wander Wherever I chance to be, There comes, with the coming of even’ time A vision sweet to me. I see my mother sitting In the old familiar place, And she rocks to the tune her needles sing, And thinks of an absent face. I can hear the roar of the […]...
40. I Don't Know If You're Alive Or Dead I don’t know if you’re alive or dead. Can you on earth be sought, Or only when the sunsets fade Be mourned serenely in my thought? All is for you: the daily prayer, The sleepless heat at night, And of my verses, the white Flock, and of my eyes, the blue fire. No-one was more […]...