Charles Bukowski – The Poetry Reading

at high noon

at a small college near the beach

sober

the sweat running down my arms

a spot of sweat on the table

I flatten it with my finger

blood money blood money

my god they must think I love this like the others

but it's for bread and beer and rent

blood money

I'm tense lousy feel bad

poor people I'm failing I'm failing

a woman gets up

walks out

slams the door

a dirty poem

somebody told me not to read dirty poems

here

it's too late.

my eyes can't see some lines

I read it

out-

desperate trembling

lousy

they can't hear my voice

and I say,

I quit, that's it, I'm

finished.

and later in my room

there's scotch and beer:

the blood of a coward.

this then

will be my destiny:

scrabbling for pennies in tiny dark halls

reading poems I have long since become tired

of.

and I used to think

that men who drove buses

or cleaned out latrines

or murdered men in alleys were

fools.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – We Never Said Farewell

We never said farewell, nor even looked

Our last upon each other, for no sign

Was made when we the linkèd chain unhooked

And broke the level line.

And here we dwell together, side by side,

Our places fixed for life upon the chart.

Two islands that the roaring seas divide

Are not more far apart.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – Our Lady

Mother of God! no lady thou:

Common woman of common earth

Our Lady ladies call thee now,

But Christ was never of gentle birth;

A common man of the common earth.

For God’s ways are not as our ways:

The noblest lady in the land

Would have given up half her days,

Would have cut off her right hand,

To bear the child that was God of the land.

Never a lady did He choose,

Only a maid of low degree,

So humble she might not refuse

The carpenter of Galilee:

A daughter of the people, she.

Out she sang the song of her heart.

Never a lady so had sung.

She knew no letters, had no art;

To all mankind, in woman’s tongue,

Hath Israelitish Mary sung.

And still for men to come she sings,

Nor shall her singing pass away.

‘He hath fillàd the hungry with good things’—

O listen, lords and ladies gay!—

‘And the rich He hath sent empty away.’

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – Good Friday in my Heart

Good friday in my heart! Fear and affright!

My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled,

My words the words that priest and soldier said,

My deed the spear to desecrate the dead.

And day, Thy death therein, is changed to night.

Then Easter in my heart sends up the sun.

My thoughts are Mary, when she turned to see.

My words are Peter, answering, ‘Lov’st thou Me?’

My deeds are all Thine own drawn close to Thee,

And night and day, since Thou dost rise, are one.

Mary Elizabeth Coleridge – Blue and White

Blue is Our Lady’s colour,

White is Our Lord’s.

To-morrow I will wear a knot

Of blue and white cords,

That you may see it, where you ride

Among the flashing swords.

O banner, white and sunny blue,

With prayer I wove thee!

For love the white, for faith the heavenly hue,

And both for him, so tender-true,

Him that doth love me!