JAMIE’S PLACE FOR STUFF

A Stroll Though Memory, Time and Politics With Stops Along The Way

Poetry Series

It’s been a while since I’ve indulged my love of poetry, so I will be posting some of my favorites. This one is a lesson in how what you see is often not what you get and no one can truly know what goes on in the life and mind of another:

edwin-arlington-robinson

Richard Cory

BY EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
“Good-morning,” and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich—yes, richer than a king—
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

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About Me

Retired great grandmother living in the Northwest US. Former radio Public Service Director and National Accounts Manager.

I’m a hair-dishevelled heilan’ coo,
Hamish McKay be ma name;
Welcome tae this dreichet glen
I’m cursed tae ca’ ma hame.
Depending on the mood I’m in
I’ll raise ma horns on high,
An’ if I like the look o’ ye
I’ll likely let ye by.
But should I dinnae like the look
O’ ye, then tak great care,
I’ll raise ma horns on high again,
Go on, get oot o’there!
So whether welcome yae or nae,
I’ll raise these horns sae mean,
Then ye shall ken ma meaning
By the twinkle o’ ma een.

Courtesy of
MARION GRAY Wollaton Road Wollaton Park Nottingham

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