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Collected Poems

Page 35

by Anthony Burgess


  Among the grown beasts. I am appalled

  At the scratching of hungry fingers at the door,

  Already. Two handfuls of years, no more,

  And what of this heartbreak changeling will be left?

  ‘BERYL IS THE DAUGHTERLY DAUGHTER’

  Beryl is the daughterly daughter:

  The rankest filial piety oozes

  From the flesh that she washes in greasy water

  And the pallid pie that the cat refuses.

  Mother and womb must come to dust;

  The gone, what else can compensate?

  In sheer devotion then she must

  Inherit the entire estate.

  EPIGRAPH ON A PRINTER

  He, who did not originate the Word,

  Yet brought the Word to man when man was ripe

  To read the Word. But that ill-bound, absurd

  Book of his body’s gone. A mess of type

  That death broke up reads greater nonsense now.

  Now God re-writes him, prints him, binds him, never

  To fail or be forgotten: God knows how

  To make one copy that is read for ever.

  THE MUSIC OF THE SPHERES

  I have raised and poised a fiddle

  Which, will you lend it ears,

  Will utter music’s model:

  The music of the spheres.

  By God, I think not Purcell

  Nor Arne could match my airs.

  Perfect beyond rehearsal

  My music of the spheres.

  Not that its virtue’s vastness –

  The terror of drift of stars

  For subtlety and softness

  My music of the spheres.

  The spheres that feed its working

  Their melody swells and soars

  On thinking of your marking

  My music of the spheres.

  This music and this fear’s

  Work of your maiden years.

  Why shut longer your ears?

  Look how the live earth flowers!

  The land speaks my intent:

  Bear me accompaniment.

  ‘NOT, OF COURSE, THAT EITHER OF US THOUGHT’

  Not, of course, that either of us thought

  We were too good for this world. No such thought

  Had ever entered heads lacking in thought.

  But shall I say there was a sort of hopelessness, a sort of

  Sickness which further living could not cure,

  Aggravate rather. We started off with those certain loves

  Of desires for love which men have, such as,

  Being English, a desire to love England.

  But we saw England delivered over to the hands of

  The sneerers and sniggerers, the thugs and grinners,

  England become a feeble-lighted

  Moon of America, our very language defiled

  And become slick and gum-chewing.

  Oh, and the great unearthed and their heads

  Kicked about for footballs. We saw nastiness

  Proclaimed as though it were rich natural

  Cream and the fourth-rater exalted

  So long as her tits were big enough. Alas

  For England. England is not an England

  We would wish to stand and see defiled further –

  We’ve all betrayed our past, we’ve killed the dream

  Our fathers held. Look at us now, look at us:

  Shuddering waiting for the bomb to burst,

  The ultimate, but not with dignity, oh no.

  Grinning like apes in pointed shoes and grinning

  National Health teeth, clicking our off-beat fingers

  To juke-box clichés, waiting

  For death to overtake us, rejecting choice

  Because choice seems no longer there. But to two at least

  Choice shone, a sun, a gleam of Stoic death.

  Better out of it steak and kidney

  Steak meets kidney and asks to dance

  KNOCK KNOCK

  The band strikes up with one-er two-er three

  It might as well be steak and kidney pie I can always

  Boil some potatoes no need for a second

  Vegetable

  KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

  ‘IN THIS SPINNING ROOM, REDUCED TO A COMMON NOUN’

  In this spinning room, reduced to a common noun,

  Swallowed by the giant stomach of Eve,

  The pentecostal sperm came hissing down.

  I was nowhere, for I was anyone –

  The grace and music easy to receive:

  The patient engine of a stranger son.

  His laughter was fermenting in the cell,

  The fish, the worm were chuckling to achieve

  The rose of the disguise he wears so well.

  And though, by dispensation of the dove,

  My flesh is pardoned of its flesh, they leave

  The rankling of a wrong and useless love.

  ‘PERHAPS I AM NOT WANTED’

  ‘Perhaps I am not wanted then’, he said

  ‘Perhaps I’d better go’,

  He said. Motionless her eyes, her head,

  Saying not yes, not no.

  ‘I will go then, and aim my gun of grief

  At any man’s or country’s enemies.’

  He said. ‘Slaughter will wreak a red relief.’

  She said not no, not yes.

  And so he went to marry mud and toil

  Swallow in general hell his private hell.

  His salts have long drained into alien soil,

  And she says nothing still.

  ‘TOMORROW THERE WILL BE LOVE FOR THE LOVELESS, AND FOR THE LOVER LOVE’

  Tomorrow will be love for the loveless, and for the lover love.

  The day of the primal marriage, the copulation

  Of the irreducible particles; the day when Venus

  Sprang fully armed from the wedding blossoms of spray

  And the green dance of the surge, while the flying horses

  Neighed and whinnied about her, the monstrous conchs

  Blasted their intolerable joy.

  Tomorrow will be love for the loveless, and for the lover love.

  The swans, with garrulous throats, crash through the pools

  In a blare of brass; the girl that Tereus

  Forced to his will complains endlessly

  Among the poplars, desperately forcing

  The heartbreak message through, but only forcing

  More and more ironic sweetness till

  The ear faints with excess of sweetness.

  Tomorrow shall be love for the loveless, and for the lover love.

  The scrubbing and dusting, the worry about what to eat,

  The stretched elastic of wages and housekeeping money

  Ready to snap, the vertigo vista of debt

  Shall no longer seem important; the housewife’s fingers

  Shall love their creases of grime; the husband’s hair,

  Receding, will give him a look of Shakespeare. Honey

  Will flow from the lips that meet in perfunctory greeting;

  The goodnight kiss will suddenly open a door,

  And sleep then will be a bouquet with lights and music.

  Tomorrow shall be luck for the luckless, and for the lucky luck

  The luckless punter will have unbelievable luck

  And the bookmaker doubt his vocation. Houses will echo

  With a fabulous smell of frying onions, steaks

  Will be feather beds of salivating thickness.

  Beer will bite like a lover and prolong its caress

  Like cool arms in a hot bed. And clocks

  Shall, in the headlong minute before closing time,

  Not swoop to the kill, but hover indefinitely,

  Like beneficent hawks.

  Tomorrow shall be love for the loveless, and for the lover love.

  The bed will be no monster’s labyrinth,

  But spirals winding to a blin
ding apex,

  Sharp as a needle, where the last shred of self

  Is peeled off painlessly, and space and time are bullied

  Into carrying their own burdens. Tomorrow

  Shall be love for the loveless

  And for the lover love.

  The map of love, spread on our knees, disclosing

  The miraculous journey, shall not terrify

  With lack of compass points, with monstrous patches

  Of terra incognita. Every sea-lane

  Leads us home to each other, and always home

  Is a new continent, of inconceivable richness.

  ‘TO ENDYMION’

  The moon awaits your sleeping: fear to be kissed.

  Tepid her light unblenching, but will twist

  Your features to strange shapes; though blind, those

  Beams

  Get in the mind’s slime monsters for dreams.

  ‘THE STOAT’S CRY’

  The stoat’s cry tears long slivers of the night,

  And, luminous, the owl in the rustling fruit

  Draws up the sweating lovers by the root;

  They warm in water-blankets worlds of fright –

  ‘AND HIS HOOVES HAMMER ME BACK INTO THE GROUND’ ’

  And his hooves hammer me back into the ground,

  The four gospel hammers, till, in that corn death,

  I am promised to be queen of the bellied wheat.

  I pray a last thanks in my killing breath,

  Glad to be ripped, torn of the panting hollow,

  While his one eye glows, the angels carry away

  The suffocating forge to become the sun,

  Who throbs in waves to suck the fainting day.

  ‘PIGS SNORT FROM THE YARD’

  Pigs snort from the yard.

  Above, gulls mew and heckle.

  Memory’s shadows speckle

  The blind, with its swinging chord.

  ‘GASPING IN THE DUNNY IN THE DEAD OF DARK’

  Gasping in the dunny in the dead of dark,

  I dream of my boola-bush, sunning in the south,

  And the scriking of the ballbird and Mitcham’s lark,

  And bags of the sugarwasp, sweet in my mouth.

  For here in the city is the dalth of coves,

  Their stuff and their slart and the fall of sin,

  The beerlout’s spew where the nightmort roves

  And the festered craw of the filth within.

  God’s own grass for the porrow in my tail,

  Surrawa’s lake for this puke and niff,

  Prettytit’s chirp for the plonky’s nipper’s wail,

  And the rawgreen growler under Bellarey’s Cliff.

  ‘DRAGGED FROM HIS DOINGS’

  Dragged from his doings in the roar of youth,

  Snipped like the stem of a caldicot flower

  Snarled time’s up ere he’d quaffed his hour,

  Tossed to the tearing of the dour dog’s tooth.

  Bye, my brad, let the bright booze pour

  That is suds of stars in the Milky Way,

  And its door swing open all the joylit day

  And the heavenlord landlord cry you time no more.

  ‘ARCHANGELS BLASTING FROM INNER SPACE’

  Archangels blasting from inner space,

  Pertofan, Tryptizol, Majeptil,

  Parstelin and Librium.

  And a serenace for all his tangled strings.

  ‘BELLS BROKE IN THE LONG SUNDAY’

  Bells broke in the long Sunday, a dressing-gown day.

  The childless couple basked in the central heat.

  The papers came on time, the enormous meat

  Sang in the oven. On the thick carpets lay

  Thin panther kittens locked in clawless play –

  Bodies were firm, their tongues clean and their feet

  Uncalloused. All their wine was new and sweet.

  Recorders, unaccompanied, crooned away –

  Coiled on the rooftree, bored, inspired, their snake

  Crowed Monday in. A collar kissed the throat,

  Clothes braced the body, a benignant ache

  Lit up a tooth. The papers had a note:

  ‘His death may mean an empire is at stake’;

  Sunday and this were equally remote.

  ‘USELESS TO HOPE TO HOLD OFF’

  Useless to hope to hold off

  The unavoidable happening

  With that frail barricade

  Of week, day or hour

  Which melts as it is made,

  For time himself will bring

  You in his high-powered car,

  Rushing on to it,

  Whether you will or not.

  So, shaking hands with the grim

  Satisfactory argument,

  The consolation of bone

  Resigned to the event,

  Making a friend of him,

  He, in an access of love,

  Renders his bare acres

  Golden and wide enough.

  And this last margin of leaving

  Is sheltered from the rude

  Indiscreet tugging of winds.

  For parting, a point in time,

  Cannot have magnitude

  And cannot cast shadows about

  The final kiss and final

  Tight pressure of hands.

  CURTAL SONNET

  And so the car plunged in the singing green

  Of sycamore and riot-running chestnut and oak

  That squandered flame, cut a thousand arteries and bled

  Flood after summer flood, spawned an obscene

  Unquenched unstanchable green world sea, to choke

  The fainting air, drown sun in its skywise tread.

  But the thin tuning-fork of one of the needs of men,

  The squat village letter-box, approached, awoke,

  Call all to order with its stump of red;

  In a giant shudder, the monstrous organ then

  Took shape and spoke.

  ‘SHREWSBURY, SHREWSBURY, ROUNDED BY RIVER’

  Shrewsbury, Shrewsbury, rounded by river

  The envious Severn like a sleeping dog

  That wakes at whiles to snarl and slaver

  Or growls in its dream its snores of fog.

  Lover-haunted in the casual summer:

  A monstrous aphrodisiac,

  The sun excites in the noonday shimmer,

  When Jack is sweating, Joan on her back.

  Sick and sinless in the anaemic winter:

  The nymphs have danced off the summer rout,

  The boats jog on the fraying painter,

  The School is hacking its statesmen out.

  The pubs dispense their weak solution

  The unfructified waitresses bring their bills,

  While Darwin broods on evolution,

  Under the pall of a night that chills –

  – But smooths out the acne of adolescence

  As the god appears in the fourteenth glass

  And the urgent promptings of tumescence

  Lead to the tumbled patch of grass.

  Time and the town go round like the river,

  But Darwin thinks in a line that is straight.

  A sort of selection goes on for ever,

  But no new species originate.

  ‘I SOUGHT SCENT’

  I sought scent, and found it in your hair;

  Looked for light, and it lodged in your eyes;

  So for sound: it held your breath dear;

  And I met movement in your ways.

  ‘THE URGENT TEMPER OF THE LAWS’

  The urgent temper of the laws,

  That clips proliferation’s claws,

  Shines from the eye that sees

  A growth is a disease.

  Only the infant will admire

  The vulgar opulence of fire

  To tyrannize the dumb

  Patient continuum.

  And, while the buds burst, hug and hold

&nb
sp; A cancer that must be controlled

  And moulded till it fit

  These forms not made for it.

  FROM ‘THE CIRCULAR PAVANE’

  They thought they’d see it as parenthesis –

  Only the naked statement to remember,

  Cleaving no logic in their sentences,

  Putting no feelers out to the waking dreamer –

  So they might reassume untaken seats,

  Finish their coffee and their arguments,

  From the familiar hooks redeem their hats

  And leave, with the complacency of friends.

  But strand is locked with strand, like the weave of bread,

  And this is part of them and part of time –

  ‘AT THE END OF THE DARK HALL’

  At the end of the dark hall he found his love

  Who, flushed and gay,

  Pounded with walking hand and flying fingers

  The grinning stained teeth for a wassail of singers

  That drooped around, while on the lid above

  The dog unnoticed, waiting, lolling lay.

  He noticed, cried, dragged her away from laughter.

  Lifts on the frantic road

  From loaded lorries helpful to seek safe south

  Slyly sidestreeted north. Each driver’s mouth,

  Answering her silly jokes, he gasped at after

  The cabin-door slammed shut: the dogteeth showed.

  At last, weary, out of the hot noon’s humming,

  Mounting his own stair

  It was no surprise to find a mother and daughter,

  The daughter she. Hospitable, she gave him water.

  Windless, the shutters shook.

  A quiet voice said: ‘I’m coming.’

  ‘Oh God God it’s the dog’, screamed the daughter,

  But he, up the miles or leaden water,

  Frantically beat for air.

  INDEPENDENCE DAY

  Anciently the man who showed

  Hate to his father with the sword

  Was bundled in a dark sack

  With a screaming ape to claw his back

  And the screaming talk of a parrot to mock

 

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