Or sometimes in a stall。
I could crawl between the legs of the wildest horses
Without getting kickedwe knew each other。
On spring days I tramped through the country
To get the feeling； which I sometimes lost；
That I was not a separate thing from the earth。
I used to lose myself； as if in sleep；
By lying with eyes half…open in the woods。
Sometimes I taIked with animals even toads and snakes
Anything that had an eye to look into。
Once I saw a stone in the sunshine
Trying to turn into jelly。
In April days in this cemetery
The dead people gathered all about me；
And grew still； like a congregation in silent prayer。
I never knew whether I was a part of the earth
With flowers growing in me； or whether I walked
Now I know。
Willie Pennington
THEY called me the weakling； the simpleton；
For my brothers were strong and beautiful；
While I； the last child of parents who had aged；
Inherited only their residue of power。
But they； my brothers； were eaten up
In the fury of the flesh； which I had not；
Made pulp in the activity of the senses； which I had not；
Hardened by the growth of the lusts； which I had not；
Though making names and riches for themselves。
Then I； the weak one； the simpleton；
Resting in a little corner of life；
Saw a vision； and through me many saw the vision；
Not knowing it was through me。
Thus a tree sprang
From me； a mustard seed。
The Village Atheist
YE young debaters over the doctrine
Of the soul's immortality
I who lie here was the village atheist；
Talkative； contentious； versed in the arguments
Of the infidels。 But through a long sickness
Coughing myself to death I read the
Upanishads and the poetry of Jesus。
And they lighted a torch of hope and intuition
And desire which the Shadow
Leading me swiftly through the caverns of darkness；
Could not extinguish。
Listen to me； ye who live in the senses
And think through the senses only：
Immortality is not a gift；
Immortality is an achievement；
And only those who strive mightily
Shall possess it。
John Ballard
IN the lust of my strength
I cursed God； but he paid no attention to me：
I might as well have cursed the stars。
In my last sickness I was in agony； but I was resolute
And I cursed God for my suffering；
Still He paid no attention to me；
He left me alone； as He had always done。
I might as well have cursed the Presbyterian steeple。
Then； as I grew weaker； a terror came over me：
Perhaps I had alienated God by cursing him。
One day Lydia Humphrey brought me a bouquet
And it occurred to me to try to make friends with God；
So I tried to make friends with Him；
But I might as well have tried to make friends with the bouquet。
Now I was very close to the secret；
For I really could make friends with the bouquet
By holding close to me the love in me for the bouquet
And so I was creeping upon the secret； but
Julian Scott
TOWARD the last
The truth of others was untruth to me；
The justice of others injustice to me；
Their reasons for death； reasons with me for life；
Their reasons for life； reasons with me for death；
I would have killed those they saved；
And save those they killed。
And I saw how a god； if brought to earth；
Must act out what he saw and thought；
And could not live in this world of men
And act among them side by side
Without continual clashes。
The dust's for crawling； heaven's for flying
Wherefore； O soul； whose wings are grown；
Soar upward to the sun！
Alfonso Churchill
THEY laughed at me as 〃Prof。 Moon；〃
As a boy in Spoon River； born with the thirst
Of knowing about the stars。
They jeered when I spoke of the lunar mountains；
And the thrilling heat and cold；
And the ebon valleys by silver peaks；
And Spica quadrillions of miles away；
And the littleness of man。
But now that my grave is honored； friends；
Let it not be because I taught
The lore of the stars in Knox College；
But rather for this： that through the stars
I preached the greatness of man；
Who is none the less a part of the scheme of things
For the distance of Spica or the Spiral Nebulae；
Nor any the less a part of the question
Of what the drama means。
Zilpha Marsh
AT four o'clock in late October
I sat alone in the country school…house
Back from the road ；mid stricken fields；
And an eddy of wind blew leaves on the pane；
And crooned in the flue of the cannon…stove；
With its open door blurring the shadows
With the spectral glow of a dying fire。
In an idle mood I was running the planchette
All at once my wrist grew limp；
And my hand moved rapidly over the board；
OTill the name of 〃Charles Guiteau〃 was spelled；
Who threatened to materialize before me。
I rose and fled from the room bare…headed
Into the dusk； afraid of my gift。
And after that the spirits swarmed
Chaucer； Caesar； Poe and Marlowe；
Cleopatra and Mrs。 Surratt
Wherever I went； with messages；
Mere trifling twaddle； Spoon River agreed。
You talk nonsense to children； don't you？
And suppose I see what you never saw
And never heard of and have no word for；
I must talk nonsense when you ask me
What it is I see！
James Garber
Do you remember； passer…by； the path
I wore across the lot where now stands the opera house
Hasting with swift feet to work through many years？
Take its meaning to heart：
You too may walk； after the hills at Miller's Ford
Seem no longer far away；
Long after you see them near at hand；
Beyond four miles of meadow；
And after woman's love is silent
Saying no more： 〃l will save you。〃
And after the faces of friends and kindred
Become as faded photographs； pitifully silent；
Sad for the look which means：
〃We cannot help you。〃
And after you no longer reproach mankind
With being in league against your soul's uplifted hands
Themselves compelled at midnight and at noon
To watch with steadfast eye their destinies；
After you have these understandings； think of me
And of my path； who walked therein and knew
That neither man nor woman； neither toil；
Nor duty； gold nor power
Can ease the longing of the soul；
The loneliness of the soul！
Lydia Humphrey
BACK and forth； back and forth； to and from the church；
With my Bible under my arm
OTill I was gray and old；
Unwedded； alone in the world；
Finding brothers and sisters in the congregation；
And children in the church。
I know they laughed and thought me queer。
I knew of the eagle souls that flew high in the sunlight；
Above the spire of the church； and laughed at the church；
Disdaining me； not seeing me。
But if the high air was sweet to them； sweet was the church to me。
It was the vision； vision； vision of the poets
Democratized！
Le Roy Goldman
WHAT will you do when you come to die；
If all your life long you have rejected Jesus；
And know as you lie there；
He is not your friend？〃
Over and over I said； I； the revivalist。
Ah； yes！ but there are friends and friends。
And blessed are you； say I； who know all now；
You who have lost ere you pass；
A father or mother； or old grandfather or mother
Some beautiful soul that lived life strongly
And knew you all through； and loved you ever；
Who would not fail to speak for you；
And give God an intimate view of your soul
As only one of your flesh could do it。
That is the hand your hand will reach for；
To lead you along the corridor
To the court where you are a stranger！
Gustav Richter
AFTER a long day of work in my hothouses
Sleep was sweet； but if you sleep on your left side
Your dreams may be abruptly ended。
I was among my flowers where some one
Seemed to be raising them on trial；
As if after…while to be transplanted
To a larger garden of freer air。
And I was disembodied vision
Amid a light； as it were the sun
Had floated in and touched the roof of glass
Like a toy balloon and softly bursted；
And etherealized in golden air。
And all was silence； except the splendor
Was immanent with thought as clear
As a speaking voice； and I； as thought；
Could hear a
Presence think as he walked
Between the boxes pinching off leaves；
Looking for bugs and noting values；
With an eye that saw it all：
〃Homer； oh yes！ Pericles； good。
Caesar Borgia； what shall be done with it？
Dante； too much manure； perhaps。
Napoleon； leave him awhile as yet。
Shelley； more soil。 Shakespeare； needs spraying〃
Clouds； eh！
Arlo Will
DID you ever see an alligator
Come up to the air from the mud；
Staring blindly under the full glare of noon？
Have you seen the stabled horses at night
Tremble and start back at the sight of a lantern？
Have you ever walked in darkness
When an unknown door was open before you
And you stood； it seemed； in the light of a thousand candles
Of delicate wax？
Have you walked with the wind in your ears
And the sunlight about you
And found it suddenly shine with an inner splendor？
Out of the mud many times
Before many doors of light
Through many fields of splendor；
Where around your steps a soundless glory scatters
Like newfallen snow；
Will you go through earth； O strong of soul；
And through unnumbered heavens
To the final flame！
Captain Orlando Killion
OH； YOU young radicals and dreamers；
You dauntless fledglings
Who pass by my headstone；
Mock not its record of my captaincy in the army
And my faith in God！
They are not denials of each other。
Go by reverently； and read with sober care
How a great people； riding with defiant shouts
The centaur of Revolution；
Spurred and whipped to frenzy；
Shook with terror； seeing the mist of the sea
Over the precipice they were nearing；
And fell from his back in precipitate awe
To celebrate the Feast of the Supreme Being。
Moved by the same sense of vast reality
Of life and death； and burdened as they were
With the fate of a race；
How was I； a little blasphemer；
Caught in the drift of a nation's unloosened flood；
To remain a blasphemer；
And a captain in the army？
Joseph Dixon
WHO carved this shattered harp on my stone？
I died to you； no doubt。 But how many harps and pianos
Wired I and tightened and disentangled for you；
Making them sweet againwith tuning fork or without？
Oh well！ A harp leaps out of the ear of a man； you say；
But whence the ear that orders the length of the strings
To a magic of numbers flying before your thought
Through a door that closes against your breathless wonde