Extra Poems By Dorothy Parker Essay, Research Paper
Dirge
Lilacs flower merely as Sweet
Now my bosom is shattered.
If I bowled it down the street,
Who & # 8217 ; s to state it mattered?
If there & # 8217 ; s one that rode off
What would I be losing?
Lips that gustatory sensation of cryings, they say,
Are the best for caressing.
Eyess that watch the forenoon star
Look a small brighter ;
Weaponries held out to darkness are
Normally whiter.
Shall I bar the strolling invitee,
Bind my forehead with willow,
When, they say, the empty chest
Is the softer pillow?
That a bosom falls clinking down,
Never think it ceases.
Every likely chap in town
Gathers up the pieces.
If there & # 8217 ; s one gone whistle by
Would I allow it sorrow me?
Let him inquire if I lie ;
Let him half believe me.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
The False Friends
They laid their custodies upon my caput,
They stroked my cheek and forehead ;
And clip could mend a injury, they said,
And clip could dip a vow.
And they were pathetic and mild
Who whispered to me so,
“ The bosom that breaks in April, kid,
Will repair in May once more. ”
Oh, many a mended bosom they knew.
So old they were, and wise.
And small did they have to make
To come to me with prevarications!
Who flings me cockamamie talk of May
Shall meet a acrimonious psyche ;
For June was about spent away
Before my bosom was whole.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
The Trifler
Death & # 8217 ; s the lover that I & # 8217 ; d be taking ;
Wild and fickle and fierce is he.
Small & # 8217 ; s his attention if my bosom be breaking-
Gay immature Death would hold none of me.
Hear them clap of my hastiness to recognize him!
No 1 other my oral cavity had kissed.
I had dressed me in silk to run into him-
False immature Death would non keep the rendezvous.
Slow & # 8217 ; s the blood that was speedy and stormy,
Smooth and cold is the nuptial bed ;
I must wait boulder clay he whistles for me-
Proud immature Death would non turn his caput.
I must wait till my chest is wilted.
I must wait till my dorsum is bowed,
I must sway in the corner, jilted-
Death went galloping down the route.
Gone & # 8217 ; s my bosom with a piddling wanderer.
Fine he was in the game he played-
Kissed, and promised, and threw me over,
And sit off with a prettier amah.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Lament
Love has gone a-rocketing.
That is non the worst ;
I could make without the thing,
And non be the first.
Joy has gone the manner it came.
That is nil new ;
I could acquire along the same-
Many people do.
Dig for me the narrow bed.
Now I am bereft.
All my pretty hatreds are dead,
And what have I left?
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Waies
I shall step, another twelvemonth,
Wayss I walked with Grief,
Past the prohibitionist, ungarnered ear
And the brickle foliage.
I shall stand, a twelvemonth apart,
Wondering, and shy,
Thinking, “ Here she broke her bosom ;
Here she pled to decease. ”
I shall hear the pheasants call,
And the strident geese ;
Down these ways, another Fall,
I shall walk with Peace.
But the pretty way I trod
Hand-in-hand with Love-
Underfoot, the nascent turf,
Brave immature boughs above,
And the chevrons of thread grass
By the curving way-
I shall ne’er make bold to go through
To my deceasing twenty-four hours.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Remark
Oh, life is a glorious rhythm of vocal,
A potpourri of extemporanea ;
And love is a thing that can ne’er travel incorrect ;
And I am Marie of Roumania.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Inventory
Four be the things I am wiser to cognize:
Idleness, sorrow, a friend, and a enemy.
Four be the things I & # 8217 ; d been better without:
Love, wonder, lentigos, and uncertainty.
Three be the things I shall ne’er achieve:
Envy, content, and sufficient bubbly.
Three be the things I shall hold boulder clay I die:
Laughter and hope and a sock in the oculus.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
De Profundis
Oh, is it, so, Utopian
To trust that I may run into a adult male
Who & # 8217 ; ll non associate, in speech patterns suave,
The narratives of misss he used to hold?
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Repudiation
Chloe & # 8217 ; s hair, no uncertainty, was brighter ;
Lydia & # 8217 ; s talk more sweetly sad ;
Hebe & # 8217 ; s weaponries were instead whiter ;
Languorous-lidded Helen had
Eyess more bluish than vitamin E & # 8217 ; er the sky was ;
Lalage & # 8217 ; s was elusive material ;
Still, you used to believe that I was
Fair plenty.
Now you & # 8217 ; re projecting hankering glimpses
At the pale Penelope ;
Cuting in on Claudia & # 8217 ; s dances ;
Taking Iris out to tea.
Iole you find warm-hearted ;
Zoe & # 8217 ; s cheek is far from rough-
Don & # 8217 ; t you think it & # 8217 ; s clip we parted? . . .
Fair plenty!
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Song of Perfect Propriety
Oh, I should wish to sit the seas,
A boom pirate ;
A cutlass banging at my articulatio genuss,
A dirk behind my ear.
And when my prisoners & # 8217 ; ironss would clank
I & # 8217 ; d ululation with hilarity and drink,
And so fling out the quaking board
And watch the mendicants sink.
I & # 8217 ; vitamin Ds like to straddle gory decks,
And excavation in loaded littorals,
And cognize the feel of throbbing cervixs
Between my knotted custodies.
Oh, I should wish to tittup and cuss
Among my cad crew & # 8230 ; .
But I am composing small poetry,
As small ladies do.
Oh, I should wish to dance and express joy
And airs and preen and sway,
And rend the Black Marias of work forces in half,
And toss the spots off.
I & # 8217 ; vitamin Ds like to see the reeling old ages
Through unastonished eyes,
And dunk my finger-tips in cryings,
And give my smilings for suspirations.
I & # 8217 ; d saunter beyond the ancient bounds,
And pat at fastened Gatess,
And hear the prettiest of sound-
The chink of tattered destinies.
My slaves I & # 8217 ; vitamin Ds like to adhere with lashs
That cut and burn and iciness & # 8230 ; .
But I am composing small vocals,
As small ladies will.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Social Note
Lady, lady, should you run into
One whose ways are all discreet,
One who murmurs that his married woman
Is the loadstar of his life,
One who keeps guaranting you
That he ne’er was untrue,
Never loved another 1. . .
Lady, lady, better tally!
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
News Item
Work force rarely make base on ballss
At misss who wear spectacless.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Observation
If I don & # 8217 ; t drive around the park,
I & # 8217 ; m reasonably certain to do my grade.
If I & # 8217 ; m in bed each dark by 10.
I may acquire back my expression once more.
If I abstain from merriment and such.
I & # 8217 ; ll likely amount to much ;
But I shall remain the manner I am.
Because I do non give a darn.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Symptom Recital
I do non like my province of head ;
I & # 8217 ; m bitter, fretful, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my custodies,
I do non hanker for lovelier lands.
I dread the morning & # 8217 ; s recurrent visible radiation ;
I hate to travel to bed at dark.
I snoot at simple, earnest common people.
I can non take the gentlest gag.
I find no peace in pigment or type.
My universe is but a batch of tripe.
I & # 8217 ; m disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I & # 8217 ; d be arrested.
I am non ill, I am non good.
My erstwhile dreams are shot to hell.
My psyche is crushed, my spirit sore ;
I do non like me any more.
I cavil, wrangle, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the idea of work forces & # 8230 ; .
I & # 8217 ; m due to fall in love once more.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Pictures in the Smoke
Oh, dandy was the first love, and glistening and all right ;
The 2nd love was H2O, in a clear white cup ;
The 3rd love was his, and the 4th was mine ;
And after that, I ever acquire them all mixed up.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Experience
Some work forces interrupt your bosom in two,
Some work forces fawn and flatter,
Some work forces ne’er look at you ;
And that cleans up the affair.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Ballade at Thirty-five
This, no vocal of an ing? nue,
This, no lay of artlessness ;
This, the rime of a lady who
Followed of all time her natural sets.
This, a solo of wisdom,
This, a chanty of sophism,
This, the amount of experiments, & # 8212 ;
I loved them until they loved me.
Decked in garments of sable chromaticity,
Daubed with ashes of countless Lententides,
Wearing shower corsages of herb of grace,
Walk I of all time in repentance.
Oft I roam, as my bosom repents,
Through God & # 8217 ; s acre of memory,
Taging rocks, in my fear,
“ I loved them until they loved me. ”
Pictures pass me in long reappraisal, & # 8211 ;
Marching columns of dead events.
I was stamp, and, frequently, true ;
Ever a quarry to happenstance.
Always knew I the effect ;
Always saw what the terminal would be.
We & # 8217 ; re as Nature has made us & # 8212 ; hence
I loved them until they loved me.
L & # 8217 ; ENVOI
Princes, ne’er I & # 8217 ; d give discourtesy,
Won & # 8217 ; t you think of me tenderly?
Here & # 8217 ; s my strength and my failing, gents, & # 8212 ;
I loved them until they loved me.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
A Certain Lady
Oh, I can smile for you, and lean my caput,
And imbibe your hotfooting words with eager lips,
And paint my oral cavity for you a fragrant ruddy,
And follow your foreheads with tutored finger-tips.
When you rehearse your list of loves to me,
Oh, I can express joy and wonder, rapturous-eyed.
And you laugh back, nor can you of all time see
The 1000 small deceases my bosom has died.
And you believe, so good I know my portion,
That I am cheery as forenoon, visible radiation as snow,
And all the striving things within my bosom
You & # 8217 ; ll ne’er know.
Oh, I can express joy and listen, when we meet,
And you bring narratives of fresh adventurings, & # 8212 ;
Of ladies finely indiscreet,
Of lingering custodies, and gently whispered things.
And you are pleased with me, and strive anew
To sing me sagas of your late delectations.
Therefore do you desire me & # 8212 ; wondering, homosexual, and true,
Nor do you see my gazing eyes of darks.
And when, in hunt of freshness, you stray,
Oh, I can snog you happily as you go & # 8230 ; .
And what goes on, my love, while you & # 8217 ; re off,
You & # 8217 ; ll ne’er know.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Epitaph for a Darling Lady
All her hours were xanthous littorals,
Blown in foolish coils and tassels ;
Stealing heartily through her custodies ;
Patted into small palaces.
Shiny twenty-four hours on glistening twenty-four hours
Tumble in a rainbow jumble,
As she flipped them all off,
Sent them whirling down the trough.
Leave for her a ruddy immature rose,
Travel your manner, and salvage your commiseration ;
She is happy, for she knows
That her dust is really reasonably.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Stopping point
Now it & # 8217 ; s over, and now it & # 8217 ; s done ;
Why does everything look the same?
Merely as bright, the heedless Sun, & # 8212 ;
Can & # 8217 ; t it see that the farewell came?
Peoples hurry and work and swear,
Laugh and grumble and die and wed,
Chew over what they will eat and have on, & # 8212 ;
Don & # 8217 ; t they know that our love is dead?
Merely as busy, the crowded street ;
Cars and waggons go turn overing on,
Children chortle, and lovers meet, & # 8212 ;
Don & # 8217 ; t they know that our love is gone?
No 1 pauses to pay a tear ;
None walks slow, for the love that & # 8217 ; s through, & # 8212 ;
I might advert, my recent beloved,
I & # 8217 ; ve reverted to normal, excessively.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Interview
The ladies work forces admire, I & # 8217 ; ve heard,
Would shiver at a wicked word.
Their taper gives a individual visible radiation ;
They & # 8217 ; d instead stay at place at dark.
They do non maintain awake boulder clay three,
Nor read titillating poesy.
They ne’er sanction the impure,
Nor acknowledge an overture.
They shrink from pulverizations and from pigments & # 8230 ;
So far, I & # 8217 ; ve had no ailments.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Love Song
My ain beloved love, he is strong and bold
And he cares non what comes after.
His words pealing Sweet as a bell of gold,
And his eyes are illuminated with laughter.
He is exultant as a flag unfurled & # 8212 ;
Oh, a miss, she & # 8217 ; d non bury him.
My ain beloved love, he is all my universe, & # 8212 ;
And I wish I & # 8217 ; d ne’er met him.
My love, he & # 8217 ; s mad, and my love, he & # 8217 ; s fleet,
And a wild immature wood-thing bore him!
The ways are just to his rolling pess,
And the skies are sunlit for him.
As aggressively sweet to my bosom he seems
As the aroma of acacia.
My ain beloved love, he is all my dreams, & # 8212 ;
And I wish he were in Asia.
My love tallies by like a twenty-four hours in June,
And he makes no friends of sorrows.
He & # 8217 ; ll step his galloping rigadoon
In the tract of the morrows.
He & # 8217 ; ll populate his yearss where the sunbeams start,
Nor could ramp or weave uproot him.
My ain beloved love, he is all my bosom, & # 8212 ;
And I wish person & # 8217 ; d shoot him.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
Rondeau Redoubl?
The same to me are drab yearss and homosexual.
Though joyous mornings the rose-colored forenoon, and bright,
Because my dearest love is gone off
Within my bosom is melancholic dark.
My bosom beats low in solitariness, despite
That exuberant Summer holds the Earth in sway.
In palls my spirit is bedight ;
The same to me are drab yearss and homosexual.
Though zephyrs in the ripple grasses play,
And moving ridges dash high and far in glorious might,
I thrill no longer to the sparkling twenty-four hours,
Though joyous mornings the rose-colored forenoon, and bright.
Graceless seems to me the sup & # 8217 ; s flight ;
As good might Heaven & # 8217 ; s bluish be sullen grey ;
My psyche discerns no beauty in their sight
Because my dearest love is gone off.
Let roses fling afar their ruby spray,
And virgin daisies splash the Fieldss with white,
Let blossom the poppy heatedly as it may,
Within my bosom is melancholic dark.
And this, oh love, my pathetic predicament
Whenever from my circling weaponries you stray ;
This small universe of mine has lost its visible radiation & # 8230 ;
I hope to God, my beloved, that you can state
The
same to me.
from Enough Rope ( 1926 )
