Sunday, May 18, 2008

Sunday Night Poetry IX

So, We'll Go No More A-Roving

So, we'll go no more a-roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears it sheath,
And the soul outwears the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.

Lord Byron (George Gordon)


Everyone Knows This

How am i feeling this morning?
Or is it too early to say?
I check by swallowing
to see if my throat's still sore.
I check by thinking
to see if my brain still hurts.

I'm walking long out of doors,
not feeling anything much,
when it suddenly comes to me:
I don't feel so bad any more.
I think to myself,
"I'll soon put a stop to that!"

Hugo Williams


To Rid Myself of You

To rid myself of you
I went and took a shower.
I scoured most carefully
All the places where

You used to hang around
I unscrewed each ear
And blew through them until
Their galleries were bare.

I took my eyeballs out
And polished them with spit
Until your image fled;
Then to my nostrils put

A little sliver drill,
And after i was through
Those passages retained
Nothing at all of you.

So, why is it at night,
When i cannot sleep,
To my nostrils, eyes and ears
Back again you creep?

Alistair Campbell

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