They
Like mutilated skulls they roll
Across the soul's white sand
And only she can make a wall
And only she can understand
Let my experience be a lamp displayed
To light the untried lover to his maid.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Requisates
Of the moon,
Of the wind,
Of the frozen sea,
As ice, be thou,
As evening dew,
As the icicle,
As unsunned snow,
As orchids I shall bring to you-
To me if you are not these
What care I how you be
I shall know tranquillity.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Thorn In The Flesh
Thorn beneath the milk-white
Crowned with
In the flesh
Thorns beneath the
Rose without
On the ground
On the stalk
Thousands at her bidding speed
Countless mourn
Die without
Sunbeam in a winter's day
True as the dial to
True as the dial to
True as the dial
To you.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Nor Look Behind
Remember Lot's wife
How like a woman in a barren field
No stronger than a flower
Not born in shame
Like the deaf adder
Adding fuel to the flame
Of virtue
Of weak minds
Of blame
In naked beauty more
The most when unadorned
Spare not nor look behind
Nor fear
Nor spare
The scorned.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Ritual
Venus is sleeping with Fire
Because it is winter and cold
With Echo
(The sound of strange footsteps gold upon gold
As they pass through the door)
With Love
(As she goes to the Sun
And is seen by the world no more)
Among lanterns and torches
And flags unfurled
She and the Sun
Are not of this world.
poem by Harry Crosby
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I Drink To The Sun
Mad day flags crackling in the dawn the sharp intensity of drink dentelleries thrown over the mill fire sun and candlelight and at midnight I squeeze the juice of the silver fruit of the moon into the red glass of my heart. I drink to the Sun who lies concealed in his bed under the sheets of night. In the morning he will rise like a Red Indian to run his marathon across the sky.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Study for a Soul
the colors have begun to form
silvergray with cramoisy and gold
into an arrow carved by storm
beyond the fear of new and old
and where the arrow fits the bow
the untroubled darkness of her eyes
watches the red-gold target grow
strong is the sun that purifies
but I have sought in vain to find
the riddle of the bow and archer
there were no shadows left behind
after the heart's departure.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Firebrand
What is your feeling about the revolutionary spirit ofyour age, as expressed, for instance, in such movements as communism, surrealism, anarchism?
The revolutionary spirit of our age (as expressed by communism, surrealism, anarchism, madness) is a hot firebrand thrust into the dark lantern of the world.
In Nine Decades
a Mad Queen shall be born.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Proportionate
I never go to church to pray
Among the crowded pews
Nor kneel before a crucifix
To hail the king of Jews
I never say a prayer
To Saint or Holy Ghost
Nor listen to the preacher's word
That talks of sin the most
But in a pair of eyes
Or drinking silver gin
Or in the colors of a dress
My soul begins to sing
And sunbeams on the wall
Reveal sometimes for me
The beauty that I weave for God
And for Eternity.
poem by Harry Crosby
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Magic Formula
What heavens opened and blazed,
What sisters virtuous,
What arrows sprang to mark,
The trees so terrible and dark,
What years, what hopes,
What lions all amazed,
What fears disguised,
(These antelopes with frightened eyes)
What things are these?
These are the things that all day long
On things made new
After the sunset has merged with the dawn
I bring to you
These are the things that grow less and less
As sleep devours our nakedness.
poem by Harry Crosby
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