Not Amused

July 8, 2011

Not Amused

Was not amused when you used
My shirt to wash your car
You left it thrashed, torn and trashed
An ugly ball of tar

Wasn’t pleased when you seized
My favorite possessions
I can’t believe the way you thieve
You need sophistication lessons

I’m not impressed how you guessed
And opened up my locker
You took the shorts I wear for sports
So I could not play soccer

I’m glad to say you soon will pay
It fills me with elation
I booked you a season with the French Foreign Legion
You really needed a vacation

by Richard W. Bray

Application #6

July 1, 2011

Matthew Arnold

Application # 6
(Something I wrote in graduate school)

The “interpoetic relationship” between Matthew Arnold’s Dover Beach and Anthony Hecht’s The Dover Bitch could hardly be less subtle. Hecht “clears poetic space” for himself by means of a “purposeful misreading” of Arnold in which Hecht inserts himself as a peripheral character in “Dover Beach”. This playful approach belies Harold Bloom’s contention that poets inevitably grapple with the “anxiety of influence” of prior works.

“Dover Bitch” is a lighthearted parody which mocks the sincerity and the seriousness of the original text. Hetch does this by transforming the object of desire in “Dover Beach” into a “girl” who is quite unworthy of her lofty stature. The woman spoken to in “Dover Beach” is the recipient of a protestation of a love which is meant to replace all the shattered Victorian certitudes which no longer exist:

Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world ….
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain

This is quite a tall order to fill: Make my life meaningful in a world without God. Hecht slyly deflates Arnold’s heroic affirmation of devotion by turning its recipient into a woman far more interested in having a good time than resolving Arnold’s spiritual devastation. Hecht does not merely remove her from her pedestal, but makes her scornful of Arnold’s attempt to recreate her “(A)s a sort of mournful cosmic last resort”.

Hecht’s attempt to supplant his predecessor offers a rich vein to be tapped by those who would extract psychoanalytical deposits from the rivalries which exist between authors. When Hecht proclaims “I knew this girl”, he means it in the biblical sense. It is hard to resist the Oedipal interpretation in which Hecht not only seduces the fictional object of Arnold’s desire, but has his way with his poem as well.

Hecht’s reduction of Arnold’s contemplation on the meaning of life into a tawdry one night stand is possible because Arnold permits him the space to do so. Arnold’s failure to consider how the poem plays to its internal audience makes it possible for the reader to accept her as seeing him as an insufferable blowhard.

by Richard W. Bray

Leave me Alone

June 26, 2011

Go_Away_400x400

Leave me Alone


I don’t want to eat my spinach
I don’t want to do my chores
I don’t want to clean the bathroom
I just want to eat some s’mores

I don’t want to iron my trousers
I don’t want to cut the lawn
I don’t want to do my homework
I just want to play till dawn

I don’t want to plant a garden
I don’t want to wash the car
I don’t want to do the dishes
I just want to look at stars

I don’t want to work for money
I don’t want to paint my home
I don’t want to fix the plumbing
I just want to be alone

by Richard W. Bray

No Laughter, No Hope

June 18, 2011


I can hate life
And I can hate me
And I can hit you
So you will hit me

No laughter, no hope
Just sock in the eye
You looking for hurt?
Then I am your guy

by Richard W. Bray

Let Me Tell Ya’

June 8, 2011

Let Me Tell Ya’

Cinderella:
Let me tall ya’
Her prince is one happy fella

Ichabod Crane:
Don’t lose your brain
Enough to drive a guy insane

Frankenstein:
No friend of mine
Scarin’ people all the time

Hercules:
Golly geez
He can bench press eighty trees

Mother Goose:
On the loose
With stories for the kids to use

Winnie Pooh:
How do you do?
Got some honey just for you

Charlie Brown:
Don’t be a clown
Kick that football. Don’t fall down

Mr. Ed:
He often said,
“Don’t make me glue when I am dead”

by Richard W. Bray

Other People’s Problems

May 31, 2011

Other People’s Problems


Ever’body got a gift
And I was born to see
Other people’s problems
It’s my spesh-ee-al-i-tee
I’m just here to help them
Be the best they’ll ever be
Got so much time to do it
Cuz there’s nothing wrong with me

My daddy is a sweetheart
But he likes to take a swig
He lives to serve his country
When he ain’t in the brig
And you know I love my mama
Despite everywhere she been
And all my friends and neighbors
Are such paragons of sin:

Sarah is a diva,
Lester is a drunk
Harold is a pervert,
And a weasel and a punk
They tell me “mind your business”
But I know it’s bunk
They pretend that they’re all rosy
When they really smell like skunk

Ever’body got a gift
And I was born to see
Other people’s problems
It’s my spesh-ee-al-i-tee
An Egyptian river is
Where I ought to be
Thinking about you
Replaces thinking about me

by Richard W. Bray

Eleven Stanzas that Strike Like a Chime through the Mind

May 29, 2011

Christina Rossetti

Richard Wilbur

e e cummings

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.

from Uphill by Christina Rossetti

Let Observation with extensive view,
Survey mankind, from China to Peru:
Reark each anxious toil, each eager strife:
Then say how hope and fear, desire and hate,
O’spread with snares the clouded maze of fate,
Where wavering man, betrayed by venomous pride,
To tread the dreary paths without a guide,
But scarce observed, the knowing and the bold
Fall in the general massacre of gold;
Wide-wasting pest! That rages unconfined,
And crowds with crimes the record of mankind;
For gold his sword the hireling ruffian draws,
For gold the hireling judge distorts the laws;
Wealth heaped on wealth, not truth nor safety buys,
The Dangers Gather as the Treasures rise

from The Vanity of Human Wishes (The Tenth Satire of Juvenal Imitated) by Samuel Johnson

We have it and it doesn’t do us any
Good because nobody gets what they
Deserve more than everybody else.

from Family Values by Robert Pinsky

I am tired of tears and laughter,
And men that laugh and weep;
Of what may come hereafter
For men that sow to reap:
I am weary of days and hours,
Blown buds of barren flowers,
Desires and dreams and powers
And everything but sleep.

from Garden of Proserpine by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of Roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten:
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

from The Nymph’s Reply to the Shepherd by Sir Walter Ralegh

Joy’s trick is to supply
Dry lips with what can cool and slake,
Leaving them dumbstruck also with an ache
Nothing can satisfy.

from Hamlen Brook by Richard Wilbur

“I see the guilty world forgiven,”
Dreamer and drunkard sing,
“The ladders let down out of heaven,
The laurel springing from the martyr’s blood,
The children skipping where the weeper stood,
The lovers natural and the beasts all good.”
So dreamer and drunkard sing
Till day their sobriety bring:
Parrotwise with Death’s reply
From whelping fear and nesting lie,
Woods and their echoes ring.
The desires of the heart are as crooked as corkscrews,
Not to be born is the best for man;
The second-best is a formal order,
The dance’s pattern; dance while you can.

from Death’s Echo by W. H. Auden

To fight aloud, is very brave —
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Cavalry of Woe —

from To Fight Aloud is Very Brave by Emily Dickinson

I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
Or English poets who grew up on Greek
(I’d have them sing in chorus, cheek to cheek.)

from I Knew a Woman by Theodore Roethke

and nothing quite so least as truth
—i say though hate were why man breathe—
because my father lived his soul
love is the whole and more than all

from my father moved through dooms of love by e.e. cummings

No memory of having starred
Atones for later disregard
Or keeps the end from being hard.

from Provide, Provide by Robert Frost

by Richard W. Bray

For Emily

May 22, 2011


Syllables of glee–
Of bobolink and bee—
Her diadem of brain
Where lavish joy is pain

Temerity of breath
Seek ecstasy in death—
The doom of dim and wise
Is dust of paradise—

Inward—fighting woe,
Circumference of know—
Her raiment reveal
Sumptuous little meal

by Richard W. Bray

talk

May 19, 2011


dont be
comin round
to bring me down
with tales you
pass around
dont need that strife
go live your life
somewhere else
you clown

it aint my job
to explain
the ways of me
to you
and I aint here
to live my life
like you want
me to

i dont care
what they say
i dont care
what you hear
so take
your talk
and your self
far away
from here

by Richard W. Bray

That’s How Easy War Can Be

May 16, 2011

american
bombs
courageously
dropped.
everybody
feels
great
here.
imperial
justice
keeps
liberating
manifold
nonhumans.
only
pacifists
queasy.
reality
shows
transmit
universal
values.
we’re
xceptional,
you’re
zapped.

by Richard W. Bray