New Collected Poems

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New Collected Poems Page 23

by David Gascoyne

Object to negligée. I was far too hot.

  It’s such a pleasure to find now and then

  Friends who do not just look like gentlemen.

  LE DUC DE PROFIL:

  Dear Dame, we are most flattered by the candour

  It pleases you to show towards us and our

  Best feelings, I assure you, are excited

  By this display of favour. I’m delighted

  To find it was not a mistaken hunch

  I had about you. Now let’s have our lunch.

  LE COMTE D’À CÔTÉ:

  Let’s hope no herd of any kind will pass.

  Not only cows, you know, lunch upon grass.

  LA DEMOISELLE AU FOND DE LA TOILE:

  I should imagine that huge meal they’ve had’ll

  Make them too sleepy much to want to paddle.

  c. 1950

  THE DECAY OF DECENCY

  When Man becomes what he calls ‘adult’ and stops taking himself too seriously

  He is apt to get oddly pedantic about the proprieties while even more loose-mouthed than ever

  Should anyone foolishly tarnish their honour by calling his into dispute.

  A jealous prude, this much (though, alas! unavailingly) chipped blockhead

  Is always able to preserve his dignity and our decorum in even the most embarrassing situations

  Provided the common law still allow him a remnant of the old apron-cloth with which to camouflage his flyblown shame.

  Proud resident of no mean or indecent city, he can be trusted always to think of shielding his neighbour

  Who may although bald be still nevertheless immature,

  From the horror of being debauched by an unwonted glimpse

  Of the unavoidably material source of the carnal life whose too often notorious facts

  Are not, when unvarnished, the kind one can mention in public, in verse or to even, of course, one’s own wife,

  So deep-rooted, apparently, is our innate sense of reverence for whatever must never be spoken of

  Till all representatives of the gallant little Sex the Serpent seduced have withdrawn to another room,

  Or as resoundingly and full-bloodedly as you like so long as it’s only in good clean working-class fun!

  Should some contradiction begin to appear in the bourgeois conventions, it can be explained

  As due to the obstinate whims of our animal nature, but nowadays not, if you please,

  By referring to what we no longer regard as a dogma, our dreadfully common first parents’ Fall.

  Take away a man’s responsibility to our self-respect, and you may rob him of half his charm.

  c. 1950

  WITH A CORNET OF WINKLES

  (VERS DE CIRCONSTANCE)*

  O bravo! For a maladif, mandarin-miened, mauve melody-man

  With a glittering, lissom, pat-prattling lute –

  Que c’est beau! as he lo! hums and haws,

  And soon again haws, then heigh-ho! how he hums

  And whilom most becomingly strums

  On his poignantly Quince-flavoured lute!

  Ah! what is it, the sensitive rattling of lute-players? What

  Is it that makes them persist undeterred by the glees

  Of the slums’ glum goloshes-clad mummers

  Who in average summers become far more raucous than we

  Ever dared (my shy mandolin!) be: for much cow-heel and hot

  Cake – nothing rare, just plain fare – ever wait

  For glee-singers to guzzle as soon as they’re through

  With their dreary commercial drum-dub rub-a-dub (there’s the rub!)

  But in Hartford all’s mum for a mo

  I mean moment: as finicking wryly with curedent that one

  Still remaining Romanticist who’s fully weaned of such pap

  (If from involute vocables glibly redundant mayhap

  Not so drastically weaned as he might be!), the Great

  Gabbo, sole plum among lute-players left

  To preserve some bravura or any finesse and who yet

  Would never have dreamed of abandoning strumming unless

  He’d been vexed (as he has) by the pip of some fruit

  Among molars illicitly lingering, – ceases

  Perforce to oblige with the teetering tittery-tum

  Ti-tumtum titivating of his lacquered lute:

  Willy-nilly sit silent. Is not the hush rum?

  Yet withal scarcely more rum, – and rum quite a lot

  Will agree it does seem, – than that one should these rum rumin-

  Ations style (aptly? or do you think otherwise? Ah!) philosophical:

  Though that’s what this old-master lute-master opines

  That his airy (Hurray! Tipperary for ever!), his endlessly

  Varied echt-lyrical lute-dittiesare!’Tra-la-la!’

  One might here interject, without being inept. I had not,

  I confess, ever fully imagined how rum they might be

  (Ruminations), if once but a maladif, canny, a hey-de-ho whole-

  Heartedly cogitatorial maître-de-luth

  Were to get un vrai goût for Philosophy. What as we but

  A brief moment ago were about to enquire: What the Hell, O but What

  Are the, or rather, what is (put it plainly) the point

  Of this perfectly awful attempt at a parody, piffling without

  Doubt to the point of provoking a petulant pout

  Of disdainful demur (a mere moue, that will do)?

  Tootle-loo, Tilly-loo, for no earthly Poetic What’s-What & Who’s-Who will now ever again deign so much as to look at these too

  Caca-caca-cacophonous doodlings of mine

  And not think them impudent snook-cocking. Candidly, look you, what do

  People put up so patiently with them for? Answer: Nein, nein,

  Far from it, they don’t, don’t deceive yourself; and what is more

  ‘The Corn’s Blue!’

  p. 1950

  * This tribute to Wallace Stevens was written before he won the Bollingen Prize in 1950.

  THREE CABARET SONGS

  1 A BRIEF BALLAD OF THE PARALYSED UPPER LIP

  Oh, the Bland Maid of Kensington,

  She Lived there in Sin

  With a Bluff Ex-Young Ladies’ Man

  With a Permanent Grin.

  Oh, the Life that he Led her there

  Was Well-dressed, but so Slow

  That she Longed to Abandon him

  Yet could never quite Let go.

  Oh, he Grinned at her Frailty,

  She smiled at his Pride!

  And Long though this lasted

  They neither of them Died

  But Continued in Kensington

  To Adorn every Day

  The Saloons of Three Locals

  Well-known to be Gay,

  Where her Blandness, his Bluffness

  Continued to the End

  To Convince all Acquaintances

  That She was his Friend!

  Oh, what really is Dreary

  About all such Brave Pairs

  Is that Being Godforsaken

  Is the Least of their Cares.

  2 WHAT A WAY TO WALK INTO MY PARLOUR, LITTLE MAN!

  Ere the hour for aperitif’s over

  Take care your tongue doesn’t work too loose,

  Though if you want wit, you’re in clover!

  This young woman, you see, is no blue goose

  Nor green-stocking, by Jove!

  If you’re looking for someone to lie to

  About all the fictitious feelings

  You feel you should feel, my reply to

  Your ogling is, I have no dealings

  With people unreal.

  Keep your labels for people who need them;

  I cannot be pigeonholed neatly.

  As for your ideals, I exceed them

  So far, I surpass them completely

  Please beat a retreat.

  Let me tell you that all this persi
stence

  Is worse than absurd, and I must say

  What I see of your mode of existence

  Inspires in me only disgust. Lay

  Off, Less-than-the-dust!

  3 SIZZLING SECLUSION: RUMBA

  Don’t murmur or mut-

  Ter: No, no! or: Tut-tut!

  I’m deep in the rut

  Your scent rouses.

  It’s too hot for a hut

  Or a bungalow but

  I’ve had such a glut

  of pent-houses.

  I could just make do

  With a wigwam for two

  Though I’m not going to stew

  In a leather one:

  One of muslin instead,

  Draped around a deep bed,

  A soft feather one …

  c. 1950

  ENCOUNTER WITH SILENCE POEMS 1950

  (1998)

  GIVE UP DEAD WORDS

  Salt sea can swallow all who thirst

  while our vocabulary

  On losing its once saline virtue’s not become

  more fresh.

  With froth-flecked lips we mouth

  our pithy apothegms and try

  Not to put on thereby too great a weight

  for our frail flesh.

  w. 1950

  STELE

  The most enduring final statement

  Is the silence we don’t hear.

  It digests everything.

  Silence that’s never known this side of death.

  Try for a moment to experience it.

  You may hear Nothing; but that’s not the Silence.

  For Nothing just makes its own unquiet noise,

  A sort of famished gasping in the eardrums,

  An ever-ending syllable of suppressed anguish.

  w. 1950

  TERMINAL

  Poetry? I too dislike it …’ (M. Moore)

  The most enduring massive statement

  Is the silence no-one hears.

  It sums up everything.

  There is no silence on this side of death.

  Listen to any muted moment

  When all is quiet. You will not hear it.

  Yet it is under all and overhead

  Not less indubitable than the firmament.

  It is itself the Word.

  It affords vast relief

  To recollect that it is being spoken

  Making inept all tongues that would compete.

  w. 1950

  FRAGMENT FROM AN UNFINISHED/UNPUBLISHED POEM

  Among the citizens inhabiting this City,

  One hungers, labours, seeks for food and shelter;

  One climbs the escalators, waits in queues, one seeks for faces

  That are alive (here all wear masks); one fights

  Amongst these citizens for life and breath and bread,

  One fights with a set face, one fights and falls

  Asleep, alone, in a hired room, upon a bed

  Uncounted strangers have already slept in – Halt!

  There is no way to overthrow this City;

  There is no tunnel dug in sleep beneath

  This City through which you might find a way

  To creep to any Paradise that would not fade

  Like rainbow mists transformed to soiled bedcoverings

  At stroke of automatic dawn. Yet halt!

  Turn, and consider, see yourself a moment, stare

  Into the glass I bring you. It reflects

  You. See how fair

  The centre of this City lies in summer in the sun

  That –

  w. 1950

  UNTITLED

  Mist and damp

  Roll down lanes up roads

  Dark is day

  Sounds all wrapped up [are muffled]

  The heart’s pain

  Knows no remittance

  Horizon’s bare

  Time immobile

  I who know no-one

  Am turning a stranger

  Have long been too silent

  Shall stay [keep] silent longer

  Whatsoever I say

  I remain unexpressed

  I believed in meaning

  Who am I?

  w. 1950

  SATURNALIA

  (fragment)

  Beneath broad sunlight bent and sweating, chilled

  In spite of all our garments by the zero underneath

  Upon perdition pondering, rehearsing inwardly

  Long rigmaroles of self-defence and calumny, we go

  The tortuous hard way towards uncertainty out of

  The pit of ages. Harsh is our music. Masks

  Like snail-shells are become the smooth and whorled

  Concealment we excrete to hide our softness from ourselves.

  We shake if silence falls like withered leaves, we fall

  A-shaking in mid-winter’s silent blast: therefore great noise

  We used always to quieten us, crescendo of uproar

  To trample down all elegiac echoes, cog-wheels, clogs,

  Bad bells and beating blades and drums, drums, bleating tongues

  To blend in undertone behind/beneath the screech distorting speech

  With falsehood’s rising passion for dominion over all

  And reaffirming thus by yearly festival in play

  That the whole building of Man’s earthly City

  Is under rule of powers underneath him

  Controlled and armed by the martial law of Pluto.

  [Briefed copywriters meanwhile make brisk sales-talk of the tale

  Of terror or contempt that each day spills.

  With eyes averted from the holy stars, and hands

  Clenched tightly round the weapon one must bear

  If one would make one’s way about this world

  We trudge unwillingly the deepworn tracks]

  That wind around these walled meadows

  Site of what once were annually waged [played] games

  Uniting Earth and Hell in common daylight

  (And seldom guess what heavy chains we bear)

  A different version of the bracketed lines […] appears below:

  Meanwhile briefed copywriters make brisk sales-talk of the tale

  Of terror and contempt that each day tells

  And with our eyes averted from the stars,

  And hands tight clenched about the weapon one must bear

  If one would make one’s way about this world

  We trudge weary to judgement each on his own winding track

  Another draft (undated) of the opening 13–14 lines is in the McFarlin Library at the University of Tulsa:

  Beneath the sun’s rays bent and sweating, cold

  Despite thick garments because zero reigns within;

  Upon perdition pondering, unwinding without end

  The rigmaroles of calumny and self-defence, they go

  The tortuous hard way towards uncertainty out of

  The pit of ages past, making harsh music. Masks

  Are on their faces grown like snailshells, brittle, smooth

  Concealment they excrete to hide their softness from themselves.

  Should silence fall, they shake like withered leaves,

  They fall as tho’ blown down by winter’s blasts;

  therefore great noise

  Is needed then to quieten them, outbursting uproar

  Crescendoing to smother every elegiac echo,

  crescendoing uproar

  Alone restores their calm; they crave the crash

  Of guns, the whirr of wheels

  Of cannonfire, the whirr of wheels, the blare of brass and bells …

  w. 1950

  THE BOMB-SITE ANCHORITE

  Fragment of an abandoned poem

  In Homage to Alan Clodd,

  Faithful Friend and Publisher

  If now to memory’s retina his face

  Returns to tremble into brief relief

  More frequently than most do, that might be

&nb
sp; Because of the abnormal evening glare

  By which his features were so keenly lit

  When first I focused eyes on him, a light

  That forced, as though in search of dirt and guilt,

  Its way into the least pothole or crack

  Of every surface that it fell upon,

  Making all that I saw seem as though scoured

  By the flushed sky’s abrasive radiance

  And then on my attentive notice thrust with an

  Especially didactic purpose; so that when

  He first lurched into view on that canal-bank

  Out of the indigo beneath an iron bridge

  And then stood looking up to where I sat

  Some feet above him on a pile of paving-stones,

  It may have seemed to him my eyes beheld him

  With an unusual famished zest. He met my gaze

  With blank, unyielding imperturbability

  Which at once made him an enigma to me …

  w. 1948–9, p. 1990

  A POST-CARD FROM VENICE TO T.S.E.

  The pigeons and the floating population fraternize,

  Or seem to; though birds get too deep in grain to notice class.

  To pose among them Baedeker in hand, with a cigar,

  Wishing some Princess predatory as Volupine would pass.

  P. S.

  Lucky for B. it was not on the bell-tower

  He was together with her in that fell hour.

  w. 1950

  WHO ARE THE ORTHOSEXUAL?

  How unkind are those models of their kind

  The heterogeneous orthodox who would forbid

  Me to express a warmth springing, not from my mind

  But from the blood, and force it to stay hid

  Behind a false hard heart like those they wear

  Upon their sleeves, as on their chests crêpe hair.

  L’HOMME ASSEZ MOYEN (pas très sensuel)

  He did not care for too tempestuous cries

  Nor for the passions that cause jaws to lather.

  He looked upon the world with wry dry eyes

  And saw it was not very, nay, but rather.

  w. 1950

  OTHER POEMS

  1950–1956

  QU’EST-CE QUE LA DÉCADENCE?

  Jeune homme qui n’as peut-être connu que vingt-cinq été

  Entendu tout nu sur l’herbe verte fraîche d’une prairie

 

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