Treasure Island

Thomas MacGreevy

(1893 - 1967 / Ireland)

Homage to Hieronymus Bosch


A woman with no face walked into the light;
A boy, in a brown-tree norfolk suit,
Holding on
Without hands
To her seeming skirt.

She stopped,
And he stopped,
And I, in terror, stopped, staring.

Then I saw a group of shadowy figures behind her.

It was a wild wet morning
But the little world was spinning on.

Liplessly, somehow, she addressed it:
The book must be opened
And the park too.


I might have tittered
But my teeth chattered
And I saw that the words, as they fell,
Lay, wriggling, on the ground.

There was a stir of wet wind
And the shadowy figures began to stir
When one I had thought dead
Filmed slowly out of his great effigy on a tomb near by
And they all shuddered
He bent as if to speak to the woman
But the nursery governor flew up out of the well of Saint Patrick,
Confiscated by his mistress,

And, his head bent,
Staring out over his spectacles,
And scratching the gravel furiously, Hissed -
    The words went pingg! like bullets,
    Upwards, past his spectacles
Say nothing, I say, say nothing, say nothing!
And he who had seemed to be coming to life
Gasped,
Began hysterically, to laugh and cry,
And, with a gesture of impotent and half-petulant despair,
Filmed back into his effigy again.

High above the Bank of Ireland
Unearthly music sounded,
Passing westwards.

Then, from the drains,
Small sewage rats slid out.
They numbered hundreds of hundreds, tens, thousands.
Each bowed obsequiously to the shadowy figures
Then turned and joined in a stomach dance with his brothers and sisters.
Being a multitude, they danced irregularly.
There was rat laughter, Deeper here and there,
And occasionally she-rats grew hysterical.
The shadowy figures looked on, agonized.
The woman with no face gave a cry and collapsed.
The rats danced on her
And on the wriggling words
Smirking.
The nursery governor flew back into the well
With the little figure without hands in the brown-tree clothes.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read poems about / on: woman, tree, despair, laughter, dance, music, wind, light, world, women, brother, sister

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Homage to Hieronymus Bosch by Thomas MacGreevy )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. There Are Two Worlds, Neela Nath
  2. Dirt Is Not Love, Neela Nath
  3. from 'The Double V', Morgan Michaels
  4. God Feeds the Birds, Dr John Celes
  5. Floating On, Neela Nath
  6. Perhaps I Did It Once, Shalom Freedman
  7. Surya, dr.k.g.balakrishnan kandangath
  8. Three ceremonies, Aftab Alam
  9. A Flight, Amitava Sur
  10. Insulted poet, douglas scotney

Poem of the Day

poet Robert Louis Stevenson

AT last she comes, O never more
In this dear patience of my pain
To leave me lonely as before,
Or leave my soul alone again.... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

Trending Poems

  1. 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
  2. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  3. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  4. If, Rudyard Kipling
  5. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  6. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  7. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  8. Nothing Gold Can Stay, Robert Frost
  9. A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
  10. Daffodils, William Wordsworth

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]