Tuesday, May 31, 2016

A Caricature

Daily Dose

From The Complete Poems of Walt Whitman, edited by Francis Murphy


WE two boys together clinging,
  One the other never leaving,
  Up and down the roads going–North and South excursions making,
  Power enjoying–elbows stretching–fingers clutching,
  Arm’d and fearless–eating, drinking, sleeping, loving,
  No law less than ourselves owning–sailing, soldiering, thieving,
  Misers, menials, priests alarming–air breathing, water drinking, on
        the turf or the sea-beach dancing,
  Cities wrenching, ease scorning, statutes mocking, feebleness
  Fulfilling our foray. 

Monday, May 30, 2016

A Caricature

Daily Dose

From An Essay On Man, by Alexander Pope


"Self-love and Reason, to one end aspire,
Pain their aversion, Pleasure their desire;
But greedy that its object would devour,
This taste the honey, and not wound the flow'r:
Pleasure, or wrong or rightly understood,
Our greatest evil, or our greatest good."

From Epistle III. 

Sunday, May 29, 2016

A Caricature

Daily Dose

From The Complete Lyrics of Cole Porter, edited by Robert Kimball


From being merely a necessary luxury
And someone sympathetic to have about
Why, now you're nearly a luxurious necessity

I couldn't imagine ever living without
I suppose I'd somehow struggle through
But I'd hate to picture myself without you

Picture Henry Ford without a car
Picture heaven's firmament without a star
Picture Fritzy Kreisler without a fiddle
Picture poor Philadelphia without a Biddle
Picture good cigars without Havana
Picture Huey Long without Louisiana
Mix 'em all together, and what have you got?
Just a picture of me without you

Picture H. G. Wells without a brain
Picture Av'rell Harriman without a train
Picture Tintern Abbey without a cloister
Picture Billy the Oysterman without an oyster
Picture Central Park without a sailor
Picture Mister Lord minus Mister Taylor
Mix 'em all together, and what have you got?
Just a picture of me without you

Picture Ogden Nash without a rhyme
Picture Mister Bulova without the time
Picture Staten Island without a ferry
Picture little George Washington without a cherry
Picture brother Cain without his Abel
Picture Clifton Webb minus Mother Mabel
Mix 'em all together, and what have you got?
Just a picture of me without you

Picture Paul Revere without a horse
Picture love in Hollywood without divorce
Picture Barbara Hutton without a nickel
Picture poor Mister Heinz, my dear, without a pickle
Picture City Hall without boondogglin'
Picture Sunday tea minus Father Coughlin
Mix 'em all together and what have you got?
Just a picture of me without you

Picture Lily Pons without a throat
Picture Harold Vanderbilt without a boat
Picture Billy Sunday without a sinner
Picture dear Missus Corrigan without a dinner
Picture Hamlet's ghost without a darkness
Picture Mother Yale minus Father Harkness
Mix 'em all together and what have you got?
Just a picture of me without you!

Saturday, May 28, 2016

Clerihew of Sour Reflection


Robert Graves
In Goodbye to All That,
And leaves Siegfried Sassoon rather flat.

Daily Dose

From Poems of Nazin Hikmet, Revised and Expanded, Second Edition, edited and translated by Randy and Mutlu Konuk


I come and stand at every door
But none can hear my silent tread
I knock and yet remain unseen
For I am dead for I am dead

I’m only seven though I died
In Hiroshima long ago
I’m seven now as I was then
When children die they do not grow

My hair was scorched by swirling flame
My eyes grew dim my eyes grew blind
Death came and turned my bones to dust
And that was scattered by the wind

I need no fruit I need no rice
I need no sweets nor even bread
I ask for nothing for myself
For I am dead for I am dead

All that I need is that for peace
You fight today you fight today
So that the children of this world
Can live and grow and laugh and play.

Friday, May 27, 2016

A Caricature

Daily Dose

From Selected Poems Of Rabindranath Tagore, edited by William Radice


Ah, these jasmines, these white jasmines!
   I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands with
these jasmines, these white jasmines.
   I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earth;
   I have heard the liquid murmur of the river thorough the
darkness of midnight;
   Autumn sunsets have come to me at the bend of a road in the
lonely waste, like a bride raising her veil to accept her lover.
   Yet my memory is still sweet with the first white jasmines
that I held in my hands when I was a child.
   Many a glad day has come in my life, and I have laughed with
merrymakers on festival nights.
   On grey mornings of rain I have crooned many an idle song.
   I have worn round my neck the evening wreath of bakulas woven
by the hand of love.
   Yet my heart is sweet with the memory of the first fresh
jasmines that filled my hands when I was a child.