Conversation Galante by T. S. Eliot

I OBSERVE: “Our sentimental friend the moon! Or possibly (fantastic, I confess) It may be Prester John’s balloon Or an old battered lantern hung aloft To light poor travellers to their distress.” She then: “How you digress!” And I then: “Someone frames upon the keys That exquisite nocturne, with which we explain The night and […]

Bustopher Jones: The Cat About Town by T. S. Eliot

Bustopher Jones is not skin and bones– In fact, he’s remarkably fat. He doesn’t haunt pubs–he has eight or nine clubs, For he’s the St. James’s Street Cat! He’s the Cat we all greet as he walks down the street In his coat of fastidious black: No commonplace mousers have such well-cut trousers Or such […]

Burbank with a Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar by T. S. Eliot

Tra-la-la-la-la-la-laire—nil nisi divinum stabile est; caetera fumus—the gondola stopped, the old palace was there, how charming its grey and pink—goats and monkeys, with such hair too!—so the countess passed on until she came through the little park, where Niobe presented her with a cabinet, and so departed. BURBANK crossed a little bridge Descending at a […]

Aunt Helen by T. S. Eliot

MISS HELEN SLINGSBY was my maiden aunt, And lived in a small house near a fashionable square Cared for by servants to the number of four. Now when she died there was silence in heaven And silence at her end of the street. The shutters were drawn and the undertaker wiped his feet— He was […]

Ash Wednesday by T. S. Eliot

I Because I do not hope to turn again Because I do not hope Because I do not hope to turn Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope I no longer strive to strive towards such things (Why should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?) Why should I mourn The vanished power of the […]

A Cooking Egg by T. S. Eliot

En l’an trentiesme do mon aage Que toutes mes hontes j’ay beues… PIPIT sate upright in her chair Some distance from where I was sitting; Views of the Oxford Colleges Lay on the table, with the knitting. Daguerreotypes and silhouettes, Here grandfather and great great aunts, Supported on the mantelpiece An Invitation to the Dance. […]

polyphony_in_a_cathedral.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Polyphony In A Cathedral by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Polyphony In A Cathedral/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Music curlsbr /> In the stone shellsbr /> Of the arches, and ringsbr /> Their stone bells./p> p>Music lipsbr /> Each cold groovebr /> […]

one_almost_might.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>One Almost Might by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>One Almost Might/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Wouldn’t you say,br /> Wouldn’t you say: one day,br /> With a little more time or a little more patience, one mightbr /> Disentangle for separate, […]

nursery_rhyme_for_a_twenty_first_birthday.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-First Birthday by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Nursery Rhyme For A Twenty-First Birthday/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>You cannot see the walls that divide your handbr /> From his or hers or mine when you think you […]

Not Love Perhaps

    This is not Love perhaps – Love that lays down Its life, that many waters cannot quench, nor the floods drown, – But something written in lighter ink, said in a lower tone; Something perhaps especially our own: A need at times to be together and talk – And then the finding we […]

night_piece.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Night Piece by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Night Piece/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Climb, claim your shelf-room, farbr /> Packed from inquisitive moonbr /> And cold contagious stars./p> p>Lean out, but look no longer,br /> No further, than to stirbr /> […]

never.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Never by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Never/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Suddenly, desperatelybr /> I thought, “No, neverbr /> In millions of minutesbr /> Can I for one secondbr /> Calm-leaving my own selfbr /> Like clothes on a chair-backbr /> […]

music.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Music by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Music/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>This shape without space,br /> This pattern without stuff,br /> This stream without dimensionbr /> Surrounds us, flows through us,br /> But leaves no mark./p> p>This message without meaning,br /> […]

meeting.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Meeting by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Meeting/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Dogs take new friends abruptly and by smell,br /> Cats’ meetings are neat, tactual, caressive.br /> Monkeys exchange their fleas before they speak.br /> Snakes, no doubt, coil by coil […]

last_word_to_childhood.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Last Word To Childhood by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Last Word To Childhood/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Ice-cold fear has slowly decreasedbr /> As my bones have grown, my height increased.br /> Though I shiver in snow of dreams, I shall […]

june_sick_room.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>June Sick Room by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>June Sick Room/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>The birds’ shrill flutingbr /> Beats on the pink blind,br /> Pierces the pink blindbr /> At whose edge fumble the sun’sbr /> Fingers till one […]

houses.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Houses by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Houses/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>People who are afraid of themselvesbr /> Multiply themselves into familiesbr /> And so divide themselvesbr /> And so become less afraid./p> p>People who might have to go outbr /> […]

flight_of_stairs.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Flight Of Stairs by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Flight Of Stairs/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Stairs fly as straight as hawks;br /> Or else in spirals, curve out of curve, pausingbr /> At a ledge to poise their wings before relaunching.br […]

epitaph_on_a_disturber_of_his_times.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Epitaph On A Disturber Of His Times by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Epitaph On A Disturber Of His Times/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>We expected the violin’s finger on the upturned nerve;br /> Its importunate cry, too laxly curved:br /> And […]

empty_room.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Empty Room by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Empty Room/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>The clock disserts on punctuation, syntax.br /> The clock’s voice, thin and dry, asserts, repeats.br /> The clock insists: a lecturer demonstrating,br /> Loudly, with finger raised, when […]

earthfast.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Earthfast by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Earthfast/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Architects plant their imagination, weld their poems on rock,br /> Clamp them to the skidding rim of the world and anchor them down to its core;br /> Leave more than […]

don_juan.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Don Juan by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Don Juan/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Under the lips and limbs, the embraces, faces,br /> Under the sharp circumference, the brightness,br /> Under the fence of shadows,br /> Is something I am seeking;br /> […]

discovery.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Discovery by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Discovery/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>When you are slightly drunkbr /> Things are so close, so friendly.br /> The road asks to be walked upon,br /> The road rewards you for walkingbr /> With firm […]

day_dream.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Day Dream by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Day Dream/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>One day people will touch and talk perhapsbr /> easily,br /> And loving be natural as breathing and warm asbr /> sunlight,br /> And people will untie themselves, […]

cocoon_for_a_skeleton.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Cocoon For A Skeleton by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Cocoon For A Skeleton/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Clothes: to composebr /> The furtive, lonebr /> Pillar of bonebr /> To some repose./p> p>To let hands shirkbr /> Utterance behindbr /> A […]

cinema_screen.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Cinema Screen by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Cinema Screen/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Light’s patterns freeze:br /> Frost on our faces.br /> Light’s pollen siftsbr /> Through the lids of our eyes …/p> p>Light sinks and rustsbr /> In water; is […]

chaplin.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Chaplin by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Chaplin/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>The sun, a heavy spider, spins in the thirsty sky.br /> The wind hides under cactus leaves, in doorway corners. Only the wry/p> p>Small shadow accompanies Hamlet-Petrouchka’s march; the slightbr […]

Cats by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond

Cats by Arthur Seymour John Tessimond   Cats no less liquid than their shadows Offer no angles to the wind. They slip, diminished, neat through loopholes Less than themselves; will not be pinned To rules or routes for journeys; counter Attack with non-resistance; twist Enticing through the curving fingers And leave an angered empty fist. […]

black_on_black.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Black On Black by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Black On Black/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Serrations of chimneysbr /> Stone-black perforatebr /> Velvet-black dark.br /> A tree coils in core of darkness.br /> My swingingbr /> Handsbr /> Incise the night.br […]

black_morning_lovesong.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Black Morning Lovesong by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Black Morning Lovesong/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>In love’s dances, in love’s dancesbr /> One retreats and one advances,br /> One grows warmer and one colder,br /> One more hesitant, one bolder.br /> […]

birch_tree.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Birch Tree by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Birch Tree/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>The birch tree in winterbr /> Leaning over the secret poolbr /> Is Narcissus in lovebr /> With the slight white branches,br /> The slim trunk,br /> In […]

betrayal.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Betrayal by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Betrayal/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>If a man says half himself in the light, adroitbr /> Way a tune shakes into equilibrium,br /> Or approximates to a note that never comes:/p> p>Says half himself in […]

bells_pool_and_sleep.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Bells, Pool And Sleep by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Bells, Pool And Sleep/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>Bells overbrim with soundbr /> And spread from cupolasbr /> Out through the shaking airbr /> Endless unbreaking circlesbr /> Cool and clear as […]

attack_on_the_ad_man.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Attack On The Ad-Man by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Attack On The Ad-Man/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>This trumpeter of nothingness, employedbr /> To keep our reason dull and null and void.br /> This man of wind and froth and flux […]

any_man_speaks.html

!DOCTYPE html> html> head lang=”en-US”> title>Any Man Speaks by A. S. J. Tessimond/title> /div> h1 class=”pageTitle”>Any Man Speaks/h1> div class=”entry-content clearfix”> h2 class=”author”>by A. S. J. Tessimond/h2> div id=”content”> p>I, after difficult entry through my mother’s bloodbr /> And stumbling childhood (hitting my head against the world);br /> I, intricate, easily unshipped, untracked, unaligned;br /> […]

Continual Conversation With A Silent Man by Wallace Stevens

The old brown hen and the old blue sky, Between the two we live and die– The broken cartwheel on the hill. As if, in the presence of the sea, We dried our nets and mended sail And talked of never-ending things, Of the never-ending storm of will, One will and many wills, and the […]

Bantams In Pine-Woods by Wallace Stevens

Chieftain Iffucan of Azcan in caftan Of tan with henna hackles, halt! Damned universal cock, as if the sun Was blackamoor to bear your blazing tail. Fat! Fat! Fat! Fat! I am the personal. Your world is you. I am my world. You ten-foot poet among inchlings. Fat! Begone! An inchling bristles in these pines, […]

Gray Room by Wallace Stevens

Although you sit in a room that is gray, Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your green fan Printed with the red branches of a red willow; Or, with one […]

A Postcard From The Volcano by Wallace Stevens

Children picking up our bones Will never know that these were once As quick as foxes on the hill; And that in autumn, when the grapes Made sharp air sharper by their smell These had a being, breathing frost; And least will guess that with our bones We left much more, left what still is […]

A High-Toned Old Christian Woman by Wallace Stevens

Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame. Take the moral law and make a nave of it And from the nave build haunted heaven. Thus, The conscience is converted into palms, Like windy citherns hankering for hymns. We agree in principle. That’s clear. But take The opposing law and make a peristyle, And from the peristyle […]