A poem by Alan Dugan
He smelled bad and was red-eyed with the miseries
of being scared while sleepless when he said
this: “I want a private woman, peace and quiet,
and some green stuff in my pocket. Fuck
the rest.” Pity the underwear and socks,
long burnt, of an accomplished murderer,
oh God, of germans and replacements, who
refused three stripes to keep his B.A.R.,
who fought, fought not to fight some days
like any good small businessman of war,
and dug more holes than an outside dog
to modify some Freudian’s thesis: “No
man can stand three hundred days
of fear of mutilation and death.” What he
theorized was a joke: “To keep a tight
asshole, dry socks and a you-deep hole
with you at all times.” Afterwards,
met in a sports shirt with a round wife, he was
the clean slave of a daughter, a power brake
and beer. To me, he seemed diminished
in his dream, or else enlarged, who knows?,
by its accomplishment: personal life
wrung from mass issues in a bloody time
and lived out hiddenly. Aside from sound
baseball talk, his only interesting remark
was, in pointing to his wife’s belly, “If
he comes out left foot first” (the way
you Forward March!), “I am going to stuff
him back up.” “Isn’t he awful?” she said.
A few random poems:
- 5 Top Sources of Inspiration That Will Help You Become a Successful Entrepreneur
- Heredity by Tony Harrison
- Bluebeard by Sylvia Plath
- The Warning by Robert Creeley
- Anthem
- Morning News by Marilyn Hacker
- English Poetry. Katharine Tynan. A Woman Commends Her Little Son. Кэтрин Тайнен.
- Олег Бундур – Вид с задней парты
- Robert Burns: On My Ever Honoured Father:
- Why England Is Conservative poem – Alfred Austin
- Untitled XIII by Yunus Emre
- CloSe To My Heart by Nishant Deherkar
- The Old Maid by Sara Teasdale
- What Happened by Rudyard Kipling
- Robert Burns: A Dream: Thoughts, words, and deeds, the Statute blames with reason; But surely Dreams were ne’er indicted Treason. On reading, in the public papers, the Laureate’s Ode, with the other parade of June 4th, 1786, the Author was no sooner dropt asleep, than he imagined himself transported to the Birth-day Levee: and, in his dreaming fancy, made the following Address:
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Sunt Leones by Stevie Smith
- Pad, Pad by Stevie Smith
- Our Bog Is Dood by Stevie Smith
- Not Waving But Drowning by Stevie Smith
- Nor We Of Her To Him by Stevie Smith
- Never Again by Stevie Smith
- My Heart Was Full by Stevie Smith
- My Heart Goes Out by Stevie Smith
- Mother, Among The Dustbins by Stevie Smith
- Infelice by Stevie Smith
- In The Night by Stevie Smith
- I Remember by Stevie Smith
- I Do Not Speak by Stevie Smith
- Happiness by Stevie Smith
- Freddy by Stevie Smith
- Exeat by Stevie Smith
- Edmonton, thy cemetery by Stevie Smith
- Drugs Made Pauline Vague by Stevie Smith
- Deeply Morbid by Stevie Smith
- Conviction (iv) by Stevie Smith
More external links (open in a new tab):
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Search engines:
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Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Alan Dugan (1923 – 2003) an American poet, a contemporary classic of American poetry.