Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PIER, by STANLEY JOHNSON


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PIER, by                    
First Line: It is pier by his candle, thinking one has called
Last Line: You'd say, if you saw him, he was stalking souls.
Subject(s): Evil


It is Pier by his candle, thinking one has called;
Grips his pen and stares at the words he has scrawled,
Mutters as he slips lean fingers through his hair,
To shiver in the silence: "There is really no one there!"

And he dreams that Eva was fairer than all the gods --
Candle whispers; dry thoughts rattle in his brain's dry pods.
A cold wind is blowing across his soul's waste moors,
And one is moving, stalking him down lonesome corridors.

Pier digs in the sunlight turning up gloom --
Drops his spade and clatters into the quiet room.
Silent there as ever, low ceilinged, four walled;
There is no one there -- no one has called.

Cackle witted, pain footed, Pier dabbles around.
Neighbors whisper, "There's Pier, where on earth is he bound?"
Candle burns, lighting crescents in Pier's eyes like moons --
Eva's face in the candle flame -- else his thoughts are loons.

It is Pier by his candle now -- the lost is found;
His bark long adrift on a dear coast is aground.
What if thoughts grow big till they fray at the ends?
They weave you a pattern at least, Pier contends.

What if devils come blowing through the soul at night?
"They can't have it all," says Pier, "not quite.
If you've once seen her face as I have," says Pier,
"Devils or none" -- What's this? There is no flame here?

No face! That is strange. Surely, Pier, you are evil;
No flame could escape without aid of the devil.
"Which way?" say the neighbors. "A flame cannot run."
To the woods? Well, now, you saw it? Well, this is fun!

Cackle witted, pain footed, Pier sold out his house --
Plain to be seen his poor wits on carouse.
Wandered off to the forest; he never came back,
And, for all we'd known of him, it was no great lack.

Oh, he caught her at last, at least in his way,
On a strip of water where new moonlight lay;
And he fathomed her out, this Eva he had known,
Holding in his foolish hand a dripping stone.

Pier walks in the forest -- you've heard of Pier?
Owned the small house -- it's been many a year.
Starting and peeping behind the trees' black boles,
You'd say, if you saw him, he was stalking souls.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net