Murdered by the Authorities of the State of UtahNovember 19. 1915High head and back unbending—fearless and true,Into the night unending; why was it you?Heart that was quick with song, torn with their lead’Life that was young and strong, shattered and dead.Singer of manly songs, laughter and tears;Singer of Labor’s wrongs, joys, hopes and fears:Though you… Read More JOE HILL by Ralph Chaplin
IT is a marsh, whose sleepy water Lies stagnant, covered with a mantle Of lily-pads and rushes; And at the least noise, the croaking frogs Dive under their light-green cover. To it flies the black and gray snipe When, on a frosty November morning, The bleak north wind blows; Often, from the dark clouds above,… Read More THE MARSH by Théophile Gautier
WARPED . . . gland-dry . . . With spine askew And body shrunken into half its space . Well-used as some cracked paving-stone Bearing on his grimed and pitted front A stamp … as of innumerable feet.
Is it you I see go by the window, Jim Larkin — you not looking at me nor any one, And your shadow swaying from East to West? Strange that you should be walking free — you shut down without light, And your legs tied up with a knot of iron. One hundred million men… Read More TO LARKIN by Lola Ridge
WIND RISING IN THE ALLEYS by Lola RidgeMy spirit lifts in you like a banner streaming free of hot walls. You are full of unspent dreams. . . . You are laden with beginnings. . . . There is hope in you . . . not sweet . . acrid as blood in the mouth.… Read More WIND RISING IN THE ALLEYS by Lola Ridge
CHERRY, cherry, glowing on the hearth, bright red cherry. . . . When you try to pick up cherry Celia’s shriek sticks in you like a pin. When God throws hailstones you cuddle in Celia’s shawl and press your feet on her belly high up like a stool. When Celia makes umbrella of her hand.… Read More Ceila by Lola Ridge
(Shadows over a cradle . . . fire-light craning. . . . A hand throws something in the fire and a smaller hand runs into the flame and out again, singed and empty. . . . Shadows settling over a cradle . . . two hands and a fire.)
LIGHTLY in the azure air Soars a cloud, emerging free Like a virgin from the fair Blue sea; Or an Aphrodite sweet, Floating upright and impearled Jn the shell, about its feet Foam-curled. Undulating overhead, How its changing body glows! On its shoulder dawn hath spread A rose. Marble, snow, blend amorously In that form… Read More THE CLOUD – Théophile Gautier
Yes; when the ways oppose — When the hard means rebel, Fairer the work out-grows,— More potent far the spell. O Poet, then, forbear The loosely-sandalled verse, Choose rather thou to wear The buskin —strait and terse; Leave to the tiro’s hand The limp and shapeless style; See that thy form demand The labour of… Read More ARS VICTRIX – Théophile Gautier
WE are in love’s land to-day; Where shall we go? Love, shall we start or stay, Or sail or row? There’s many a wind and way, And never a May but May; We are in love’s hand to-day; Where shall we go? Our land-wind is the breath Of sorrows kiss’d to death And joys that… Read More Love At Sea – Gautier Théophile
