London Excursion (John Gould Fletcher Poems)
'BusGREAT walls of green,City that is afar.We gallop alongAlert and penetrating,Roads open about us,Housetops keep at a distance.Soft-curling tendrils,Swim backwards ...
'BusGREAT walls of green,City that is afar.We gallop alongAlert and penetrating,Roads open about us,Housetops keep at a distance.Soft-curling tendrils,Swim backwards ...
INot yet hast Thou soundedThy clangorous music,Whose strings are under the mountains…Not yet hast Thou spokenThe blooded, implacable Word…But I ...
A big locomotive has pulled into town,Heavy, humungus, with sweat rolling down,A plump jumbo olive.Huffing and puffing and panting and ...
1Likely as not a ruined head gasketSpitting at every power stroke, if not a crank shaftBearing knocking at the roots ...
AUTHORITY, with white-gloved hand,Holds up the traffic in the Strand.Obediently each well-trained wheelRolls to a standstill. I can feelThe bus ...
I am eighty years old and somewhat,But I give to God the praiseThat they made a sailor of meIn the ...
When clouds shake out their sailsBefore delighted gales,I think the sailor-men at sea,Hearing the engine throbbing freeCurse their today's fate ...
WHEN the Millennium comesOnly the kings will fight,While the princes beat the drums,And the queens in aprons white,Arnica bottle in ...
Shall they not praise the cogs,Praise the pistons and wheels,And still be poetsTo whom appealsThe recurring morn,The immortal primrose,And the ...
Ever heard th' black watch story?Ask th' boys o' our old crew;There's sea yarns a sight more gory, But there ...
Over that morn hung heaviness, until,Near sunless noon, we heard the ship's bell beatingA melancholy staccato on dead metal;Saw the ...
House ablaze, hissing, dying Crimson anguish My daughter upstairs, alone Helpless Firetruck - red, loud, racing, screech HELP ME! MY ...
There is fog upon the river, there is mirk upon the town; You can hear the groping ferries as they ...
SMOKE of the fields in spring is one, Smoke of the leaves in autumn another. Smoke of a steel-mill roof ...
I WAS born on the prairie and the milk of its wheat, the red of its clover, the eyes of ...
Now as the train bears west, Its rhythm rocks the earth, And from my Pullman berth I stare into the ...
How far is it? How far is it now? The gigantic gorilla interior Of the wheels move, they appall me ...
They enter as animals from the outer Space of holly where spikes Are not thoughts I turn on, like a ...
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