Famous Last Drop Poems by Famous Poets

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Words uttered in a subdued voice in order to constitute a dedication, Translation of Carlos Bousono's Sonnet

Words uttered in a subdued voice in order to constitute a dedication,
Translation of Carlos Bousono’s poem :Palabras dichas en voz baja para
formar una dedicatoria
(To Ruth, so young, from another age)
(It’s quite probable that this poem commemorates and addresses Bousono’s
wife, Ruth, and as such the interest in the poem must underlie the intimate and/or
private candidness of tone, rather than the less...Read more of this...

Bride Of The Wind

 for Brenda



Both had come with no gardener but the soul;

I had myself expressed them in weariness,

Like the last drop of milk from your tired breast.

The red rose was no rose for me.

My black rose shone in a silver dawn

In the throat of the wind.



On the tongue of the wind

I taste your spirit;

I will bear you on my toes

To the...Read more of this...

To Thomas Moore

 My boat is on the shore,
And my bark is on the sea;
But, before I go, Tom Moore,
Here's a double health to thee!

Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate;
And, whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate.

Though the ocean roar around me,
Yet it still shall bear me on;
Though a desert should surround...Read more of this...

A Satisfactory Reform

 A merry burgomaster
 In a burgh upon the Rhine
Said, “Our burghers all are
 Far too fond of drinking wine.”
So the merry burgomaster,
 When the burgomasters met,
Bade them look into the matter
 Ere the thing went farther yet.

And the merry burgomasters
 Did decide the only way
To alleviate the evil
 Without worry or delay
Would be just to call a meeting
 Of...Read more of this...

Transcription Of Organ Music

 The flower in the glass peanut bottle formerly in the
 kitchen crooked to take a place in the light, 
the closet door opened, because I used it before, it
 kindly stayed open waiting for me, its owner.

I began to feel my misery in pallet on floor, listening
 to music, my misery, that's why I want to sing.
The room closed...Read more of this...

The Gardener XLII: O Mad Superbly Drunk

 O mad, superbly drunk;
If you kick open your doors and
play the fool in public;
If you empty your bag in a night, 
and snap your fingers at prudence;
If you walk in curious paths and
play with useless things;
Reck not rhyme or reason;
If unfurling your sails before the
storm you snap the rudder in two,
Then I will follow you, comrade,
and be drunken and...Read more of this...

The Next War

 You young friskies who today
Jump and fight in Father’s hay 
With bows and arrows and wooden spears, 
Playing at Royal Welch Fusiliers, 
Happy though these hours you spend,
Have they warned you how games end? 
Boys, from the first time you prod 
And thrust with spears of curtain-rod, 
From the first time you tear and slash 
Your long-bows from the...Read more of this...

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