Life poems
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Vagabond
© John Masefield
Dunno a heap about the what an' why, Can't say's I ever knowed.Heaven to me's a fair blue stretch of sky, Earth's jest a dusty road.
The River
© John Masefield
All other waters have their time of peace.Calm, or the turn of tide or summer drought;But on these bars the tumults never cease,In violent death this river passes out.
[Let that which is to come be as it may...]
© John Masefield
Let that which is to come be as it may,Darkness, extinction, justice, life intenseThe flies are happy in the summer day,Flies will be happy many summers hence
The Blacksmith
© John Masefield
The blacksmith in his sparky forge,Beat on the white-hot softness there;Even as he beat he sang an airTo keep the sparks out of his gorge.
Protest of a Young Intellectual
© Marquis Donald Robert Perry
God never plucks me by the sleeve And begs for my advice,And since He doesn't all His works Leave me cold as ice.
Frustration
© Marquis Donald Robert Perry
The things that I can't have I want And what I have seems second-rate,The things I want to do I can't And what I have to do I hate, The things I want at once come late,I am not feeling gay nor gleg, I'm really in an awful state,My life is like a scrambled egg
Breath
© Marquis Donald Robert Perry
We are the shaken slaves of Breath:For logic leaves the race unstirred;But cadence, and the vibrant word,Are lords of life, are lords of death.
A Leaf from the Devil’s Jest-Book
© Edwin Markham
Beside the sewing-table chained and bent, They stitch for the lady, tyrannous and proud -- For her a wedding-gown, for them a shroud;They stitch and stitch, but never mend the rentTorn in life's golden curtains
The Toll-gate Man
© MacDonald Wilson Pugsley
They tore down the toll-gate By the songless mill,But the gray gate-man Takes toll there still;And he takes from all Whether or not they will.
The Song of the Hemp
© MacDonald Wilson Pugsley
The stubbled Hemp-field called the wind That passed with moistened eyes:
Dat Leetle Box
© MacDonald Wilson Pugsley
I leev' me turty year alone; Dat ees a lonely life--A bachelor, dat's wat dey call De man who has no wife.
The Yellow Bittern
© MacDonagh Thomas
The yellow bittern that never broke out In a drinking bout, might as well have drunk;His bones are thrown on a naked stone Where he lived alone like a hermit monk
Eve
© MacDonagh Thomas
I am Eve, great Adam's wife,I that wrought my children's loss,I that wronged Jesus of life,Mine by right had been the cross.
