Chaplinesque Poem by Harold Hart Crane


Rating: 2.9

We will make our meek adjustments,
Contented with such random consolations
As the wind deposits
In slithered and too ample pockets.

For we can still love the world, who find
A famished kitten on the step, and know
Recesses for it from the fury of the street,
Or warm torn elbow coverts.

We will sidestep, and to the final smirk
Dally the doom of that inevitable thumb
That slowly chafes its puckered index toward us,
Facing the dull squint with what innocence
And what surprise!

And yet these fine collapses are not lies
More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane;
Our obsequies are, in a way, no enterprise.
We can evade you, and all else but the heart:
What blame to us if the heart live on.

The game enforces smirks; but we have seen
The moon in lonely alleys make
A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,
And through all sound of gaiety and quest
Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.

* Sunprincess * 31 March 2016 interesting write, the reality of the world actually and not always beautiful ★

0 0 Reply
Michael Walker 16 March 2015

Hart Crane wrote much better poems than this one.

0 1 Reply
Kim Barney 16 March 2015

So beautiful, Aftab? I must be half asleep today. I really can't see the beauty, except that I do love kittens!

2 2 Reply
Aftab Alam Khursheed 16 March 2015

so beautiful....thank you PH

1 1 Reply
Harold Hart Crane

Harold Hart Crane

Garrettsville, Ohio
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