All Poems
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Piscine kind of kinship
© Ivan Donn Carswell
To glibly say that Joe was sort of odd
quite missed the point. Peculiar in many
ways and kind of weird, I would have
been afraid of him were I a child (if I ever
Pedestrian ambitions
© Ivan Donn Carswell
My thoughts are like the boots randomly arrayed
in the rack outside the window, some in pairs neatly
stacked, comfortably worn with a relaxed air of
confidence, some scattered in patterns of bizarre
"Every night I hurry home to see"
© Lesbia Harford
Every night I hurry home to see
If a letter's there from you to me.
Every night I bow my head and say,
"There's no word at all from him today."
Desires that you can only tame to know
© Ivan Donn Carswell
"Zipless sex" one cynic called
this festival of fornication,
this celebration of new-found sexual strength
and urbane honesty, of sex for sex as sex alone
Partisanship and politics
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Were I not a patriot, which of course I am, I would explain
just how the term remains a sticking point within my craw,
how it contains a core of prudish mockery, dissembles jingoistic
claims. But I am and not ashamed. I love the land, the people
Paper towel
© Ivan Donn Carswell
She wrapped a paper towel around his softened cock
in what he thought was quaint affection, that was new,
an after-thought perhaps, refined appreciation?
She had never talked a lot in bed just let her actions
Out of The Annexe
© Ivan Donn Carswell
It grew out of the Annexe and our Corps in a world at peace
while our army trained, magnificent in its heroic pretence,
for an implausible war. They were halcyon days
in the shelter, days that combine in easy recollections
Our Privilege
© Francis Bret Harte
Not ours, where battle smoke upcurls,
And battle dews lie wet,
To meet the charge that treason hurls
By sword and bayonet.
Out of ideas
© Ivan Donn Carswell
If I dont write something good tonight I will sleep
without the comforting Canopus of deep believers,
if I sleep at all, and this light which ignites
my enormous poetic conceit and guides my muse
United States
© Edgar Albert Guest
He shall be great who serves his country well.
He shall be loved who ever guards her fame.
His worth the starry banner long shall tell,
Who loves his land too much to stoop to shame.
Other side
© Ivan Donn Carswell
The dung was recent, not an event
unusual in itself but difficult to explain
of cows grazing the other side of the fence.
Too new to be dismissed without a thought,
Woodstock Park
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Here in a little rustic hermitage
Alfred the Saxon King, Alfred the Great,
On your birthday, today,
© Ivan Donn Carswell
On your birthday, today, there is time to reflect
On the essence of our intimacy,
From a beginning in the spring-tide of youth
To an afterward secured in the distant mist,
The Forlorn
© James Russell Lowell
The night is dark, the stinging sleet,
Swept by the bitter gusts of air,
Drives whistling down the lonely street,
And glazes on the pavement bare.
On The Death of a Father
© Ivan Donn Carswell
This dismal place I hide my grief is crowded shame,
my father would have taught me tame my trembling lips
without contempt, face far constraints tight-lipped,
remain serene; I dream how well I played his silent game.
Olmecs rule
© Ivan Donn Carswell
The news is out, down Veracruz they found the evidence,
Olmecs had the written word 400 years before Sumerians.
A Chinese claim predates all that, but let it rest.
Examine what it means to Mesoamericans!
Suspiria
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Take them, O Death! and bear away
Whatever thou canst call thine own!
Thine image, stamped upon this clay,
Doth give thee that, but that alone!
