All Poems
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The Battle Of Harlaw--Evergreen Version
© Andrew Lang
Frae Dunidier as I cam throuch,
Doun by the hill of Banochie,
Dream Song 79: Op. posth. no. 2
© John Berryman
Whence flew the litter whereon he was laid?
Of what heroic stuff was warlock Henry made?
and questions of that sort
perplexed the bulging cosmos, O in short
was sandalwood in good supply when he
flared out of history
Dream Song 52: Silent Song
© John Berryman
Bright-eyed & bushy tailed woke not Henry up.
Bright though upon his workshop shone a vise
central, moved in
while he was doing time down hospital
and growing wise.
He gave it the worst look he had left.
Lyells Hypothesis Again
© Kenneth Rexroth
The mountain road ends here,
Broken away in the chasm where
Dream Song 7: 'The Prisoner of Shark Island' with Paul Muni
© John Berryman
Henry is old, old; for Henry remembers
Mr Deeds' tuba, & the Cameo,
& the race in Ben Hur,âThe Lost World, with sound,
& The Man from Blankey's, which he did not dig,
nor did he understand one caption of,
bewildered Henry, while the Big Ones laughed.
Fuji In A Saucer: The Poem
© Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmin
Through tannic steam I catch a glimpse of Fuji:
Against a yellow sky volcanic gold
Dream Song 54: 'NO VISITORS' I thumb the roller to
© John Berryman
'NO VISITORS' I thumb the roller to
and leans against the door.
Comfortable in my horseblanket
I prop on the costly bed & dream of my wife,
my first wife,
and my second wife & my son.
Dream Song 6: A Capital at Wells
© John Berryman
During the father's walkingâhow he look
down by now in soft boards, Henry, pass
and what he feel or no, who know?â
as during hÃs broad father's, all the breaks
& ill-lucks of a thriving pioneer
back to the flying boy in mountain air,
Dream Song 122: He published his girl's bottom in staid pages
© John Berryman
He published his girl's bottom in staid pages
of an old weekly. Where will next his rages
ridiculous Henry land?
Tranquil & chaste, de-hammocked, he descendedâ
upon which note the fable should have endedâ
towards the ground, and
The Homes Of England
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
The stately homes of England
How beautiful they stand!
Dream Song 105: As a kid I believed in democracy: I
© John Berryman
As a kid I believed in democracy: I
'saw no alternative'âteaching at The Big Place I ah
put it in practice:
we'd time for one long novel: to a voteâ
Gone with the Wind they voted: I crunched 'No'
and we sat down with War & Peace.
For the restoration of my dear Husband from a burning Ague, June, 1661.
© Anne Bradstreet
When feares and sorrowes me besett,
Then did'st thou rid me out;
Dream Song 74: Henry hates the world. What the world to Henry
© John Berryman
Henry hates the world. What the world to Henry
did will not bear thought.
Feeling no pain,
Henry stabbed his arm and wrote a letter
explaining how bad it had been
in this world.
A Cameo
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
THERE WAS a graven image of Desire
Painted with red blood on a ground of gold
Dream Song 26: The glories of the world struck me
© John Berryman
The glories of the world struck me, made me aria, once.
âWhat happen then, Mr Bones?
if be you cares to say.
âHenry. Henry became interested in women's bodies,
his loins were & were the scene of stupendous achievement.
Stupor. Knees, dear. Pray.
'Possum' A Lay of New Chumland
© Henry Lawson
SO YER travlin for yer pleasure while yer writin for the press?
An yer huntin arter copy?well, Ive heerd o that. I guess
Dream Song 176: All that hair flashing over
© John Berryman
All that hair flashing over the Atlantic,
Henry's girl's gone. She'll find Paris a sweet place
as many times he did.
She's there now, having left yesterday. I held
her cousin's hand, all innocence, on the climb to the tower.
Her cousin is if possible more beautiful than she is.
The Night Owl
© Arthur Symons
I hear the little Owl shriek
Along the windless ways,
As if its inhuman soul were fain to seek
The heart of the mystery of its days;
And as I hear the beat of its wings
That shriek to mine own Spirit clings.
Dream Song 77: Seedy Henry rose up shy
© John Berryman
Seedy Henry rose up shy in de world
& shaved & swung his barbells, duded Henry up
and p.a.'d poor thousands of persons on topics of grand
moment to Henry, ah to those less & none.
Wif a book of his in either hand
he is stript down to move on.
