zeppelin: (Default)
Yes, everything's a worry
In the life of a T.O.,
There's always so much hurry,
So much rushing to and fro,
There's always something pressing,
Some extra work to do,
And you never get a blessing
Whatever you put through.
From morning until evening,
In rain, and cold, and shine,
It is worry, hurry, scurry
In the Transport line.

The Q.M. wants a limber,
The Colonel wants his horse,
We've got to haul more timber,
And the usual work of course,
Send three men to headquarters,
Two kits to catch the train,
A team for the Trench Mortars,
Report your strength again.
From early morn till evening,
And even while I dine,
It's worry, hurry, scurry
In the Transport line.

The horses all need shoeing,
The grey has kicked his mate,
The harness wants renewing,
And the men get up too late;
The water cart is leaking,
The Sergeant's got the grippe,
The G.S.'s waggons squeaking,
There are twenty mules to clip.
There's always something needed,
And all the trouble's mine,
It's worry, hurry, scurry
In the Transport line.

Though the bullets whistled by me,
And the whiz-bangs made me sweat.
In the trenches wet and slimy,
Yet I wish I was there yet,
For they didn't always chase me,
By runner, wire or 'phone,
Or come in rage to face me,
Or speak in injured tone;
You're everybody's batman,
No work can you decline,
In the hurry, worry, scurry
Of the Transport line.

When this blessed war is over,
And I sit at home at ease,
I shall no more be a rover
With the Transport o'er the seas.
But the weather's most depressing,
And the whisky's getting low,
My cough gets more distressing,
So it's time for me to go;
Here's another message coming,
You can always tell the sign
Of the hurry, worry, scurry
In the Transport line.

by T.A. Girling
zeppelin: (Default)
Two Ways

You must give up your old way, your way is dirty:
there men go with greedy glances
and the word “happiness” you hear from every lip
and further along the way lies the body of a woman
and the vultures are tearing it to pieces.

You have found your new way,
your way is pure:
there motherless children go playing with poppies,
there women in black go talking of sorrow
and further along the way stands a pale saint
with his foot on a dead dragon’s neck.

Poetry

May. 19th, 2010 01:58 am
zeppelin: (Default)
* The Parable of the Old Man and the Young (Wilfred Owen)
* Dulce et Decorum Est (Wilfred Owen)
* Song of Perfect Propriety (Dorothy Parker)
* An Irish Airman Foresees His Death (Yeats)
* LXII (Housman)
* Oh Who is That Young Sinner (Housman)
* Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part (Drayton)
* Holy Sonnet 14 (Donne)
* The Scholars (Yeats)
zeppelin: (Default)
back in baltimore
haiku stems from restfulness
wtf
zeppelin: (Default)
Methoughts I saw a thousand fearful wrecks,
A thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon,
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels,
All scatt'red in the bottom of the sea;
Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes
Where eyes did once inhabit there were crept,
As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems,
That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatt'red by.

Zukofsky 51

Sep. 5th, 2009 02:36 am
zeppelin: (Default)
He'll hie me, par is he? the God divide her,
he'll hie, see fastest, superior deity,
quiz—sitting adverse identity—mate, in-
spect it and audit—

you'll care ridden then, misery hold omens,
air rip the senses from me; now you smile to
me—Lesbia's aspect—no life is to spare me
[voice hoarse in a throat]

linked tongue set torpid, tenuous support a-
flame a day mown down, sound tone sopped up in its
tinkling, in ears hearing, twin eyes tug under
luminous—a night.
zeppelin: (Default)
Thou blind man's mark, thou fool's self-chosen snare,
Fond fancy's scum, and dregs of scattered thought;
Band of all evils, cradle of causeless care;
Thou web of will, whose end is never wrought:
Desire, Desire! I have too dearly bought,
With price of mangled mind, thy worthless ware;
Too long, too long, asleep thou hast me brought,
Who shouldst my mind to higher things prepare,
But yet in vain thou hast my ruin sought,
In vain thou mad'st me to vain things aspire,
In vain thou kindlest all thy smoky fire,
For Virtue hath this better lesson taught:
Within myself to seek my only hire,
Desiring nought but how to kill Desire.

AD Hope

May. 11th, 2009 10:11 pm
zeppelin: (Default)
A.U.C. 334: about this date,
For a sexual misdemeanour which she denied,
The vestal virgin Postumia was tried;
Livy records it among affairs of state.

They let her off: it seems she was perfectly pure;
The charge arose because some thought her talk
Too witty for a young girl, her eyes, her walk
Too lively, her clothes too smart to be demure.

The Pontifex Maximus, summing up the case,
Warned her in future to abstain from jokes,
To wear less modish and more pious frocks.
She left the court reprieved, but in disgrace.

What then? With her the annalist is less
Concerned than what the men achieved that year:
Plots, quarrels, crimes, with oratory to spare-
I see Postumia with her dowdy dress,

Stiff mouth and listless step; I see her strive
To give dull answers. She had to knuckle down.
A vestal virgin who scandalized that town
Had fair trial, then they buried her alive;

Alive, bricked up in suffocating dark;
A ration of bread, a pitcher if she was dry,
Preserved the body they did not wish to die
Until her mind was quenched to the last spark.

How many the black maw has swallowed in its time!
Spirited girls who would not know their place,
Talented girls who found that the disgrace
Of being a woman made genius a crime.

How many others, who would not kiss the rod,
Domestic bullying broke or public shame?
Pagan or Christian, it was much the same:
Husbands, St. Paul declared, rank next to God.

Livy and Paul, it may be, never knew
That Rome was doomed; each spoke of her with pride.
Tacitus, writing after both had died,
Showed that whole fabric rotten, through and through.

Historians spend their lives and lavish ink
Explaining how great commonwealths collapse
From great defects of policy - perhaps
The cause is sometimes simpler than they think.

It may not seem so grave an act to break
Postumia's spirit as Galileo's, to gag
Hypatia as crush Socrates, or drag
Joan as Giordano Bruno to the stake.

Can we be sure? Have more states perished, then,
For having shackled the enquiring mind,
Than those who, in their folly not less blind,
Trusted the servile womb to breed free men?

AD Hope

May. 9th, 2009 10:10 pm
zeppelin: (Default)
Imperial Adam, naked in the dew,
Felt his brown flanks and found the rib was gone.
Puzzled he turned and saw where, two and two,
The mighty spoor of Yahweh marked the lawn.

Then he remembered through mysterious sleep
The surgeon fingers probing at the bone,
The voice so far away, so rich and deep:
"It is not good for him to live alone."

Turning once more he found Man's counterpart
In tender parody breathing at his side.
He knew her at first sight, he knew by heart
Her allegory of sense unsatisfied.

The pawpaw drooped its golden breasts above
Less generous than the honey of her flesh;
The innocent sunlight showed the place of love;
The dew on its dark hairs winked crisp and fresh.

This plump gourd severed from his virile root,
She promised on the turf of Paradise
Delicious pulp of the forbidden fruit;
Sly as the snake she loosed her sinuous thighs,

And waking, smiled up at him from the grass;
Her breasts rose softly and he heard her sigh --
From all the beasts whose pleasant task it was
In Eden to increase and multiply

Adam had learned the jolly deed of kind:
He took her in his arms and there and then,
Like the clean beasts, embracing from behind,
Began in joy to found the breed of men.

Then from the spurt of seed within her broke
Her terrible and triumphant female cry,
Split upward by the sexual lightning stroke.
It was the beasts now who stood watching by:

The gravid elephant, the calving hind,
The breeding bitch, the she-ape big with young
Were the first gentle midwives of mankind;
The teeming lioness rasped her with her tongue;

The proud vicuna nuzzled her as she slept
Lax on the grass; and Adam watching too
Saw how her dumb breasts at their ripening wept,
The great pod of her belly swelled and grew,

And saw its water break, and saw, in fear,
Its quaking muscles in the act of birth,
Between her legs a pigmy face appear,
And the first murderer lay upon the earth.
zeppelin: (Default)
There was a young man who said, "God
Must think it exceedingly odd
If he finds that this tree
Continues to be
When there's no one about in the Quad."

"Dear Sir: Your astonishment's odd:
I am always about in the Quad.
And that's why the tree
Continues to be,
Since observed by, Yours faithfully, God."

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Kate

September 2013

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