War poems
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Hymn 154
© Isaac Watts
"Where are the mourners," saith the Lord,
"That wait and tremble at my word,
That walk in darkness all the day?
Come, make my name your trust and stay.
Hymn 151
© Isaac Watts
'Twas by an order from the Lord
The ancient prophets spoke his word;
His Spirit did their tongues inspire,
And warmed their hearts with heav'nly fire.
His Wife, The Painter
© Charles Bukowski
There are sketches on the walls of men and women and ducks,
and outside a large green bus swerves through traffic like
insanity sprung from a waving line; Turgenev, Turgenev,
says the radio, and Jane Austin, Jane Austin, too.
Sleep
© Charles Bukowski
she was a short one
getting fat and she had once been
beautiful and
she drank the wine
Raw With Love
© Charles Bukowski
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
Revolt In The Ranks
© Charles Bukowski
I have just spent one-hour-and-a-half
handicapping tomorrow's
card.
when am I going to get at the poems?
We Ain't Got No Money, Honey, But We Got Rain
© Charles Bukowski
call it the greenhouse effect or whatever
but it just doesn't rain like it used to.
I particularly remember the rains of the
depression era.
How Is Your Heart?
© Charles Bukowski
during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
Young In New Orleans
© Charles Bukowski
starving there, sitting around the bars,
and at night walking the streets for hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, mabye it was,
Girl In A Miniskirt Reading The Bible Outside My Window
© Charles Bukowski
Sunday, I am eating a
grapefruit, church is over at the Russian
Orthadox to the
west.
Let It Enfold You
© Charles Bukowski
when i was a young man
I felt these things were
dumb,unsophisticated.
I had bad blood,a twisted
mind, a pecarious
upbringing.
Tz'u No. 9 (Weary)
© Li Ching Chao
Saddened by the dying spring, I am too weary
to rearrange my hair.
Plum flowers, newly fallen, drift about the courtyard
in the evening wind.
The moon looks pale and light clouds float
to and fro.
Tz'u No. 7
© Li Ching Chao
Let not the deep cup be filled
with rich, amber-colored wine;
My mind was eased of sorrow
even before I was drunk.
Distant bells have already echoed
in the evening breeze.
Tz'u No. 10 (Exile)
© Li Ching Chao
Soft breezes, mild sunshine,
spring is still young.
The sudden change of the light
brightened my spirit.
Tz'u No. 1
© Li Ching Chao
To the tune "Courtyard Filled with Fragrance"Fragrant grass beside the pond
green shade over the hall
a clear cold comes through
the window curtains
A Song of Departure
© Li Ching Chao
Warm rain and soft breeze by turns
Have just broken
And driven away the chill.
Moist as the pussy willows,
Nocturne III
© Jose Asuncion Silva
One night
one night all full of murmurings, of perfumes and music of wings;
one night
in which fantastic fireflies burnt in the humid nuptial shadows,
The Dependencies
© Howard Nemerov
This morning, between two branches of a tree
Beside the door, epeira once again
Has spun and signed his tapestry and trap.
I test his early-warning system and
Learning the Trees
© Howard Nemerov
Before you can learn the trees, you have to learn
The language of the trees. That's done indoors,
Out of a book, which now you think of it
Is one of the transformations of a tree.
Goodbye!
© Richard Aldington
Come, thrust your hands in the warm earth
And feel her strength through all your veins;
Breathe her full odors, taste her mouth,
Which laughs away imagined pains;
Touch her life's womb, yet know
This substance makes your grave also.
