Unreal City, Under the brown fog of a winter dawn, A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many, I had not thought death had undone so many. Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled, And each man fixed his eyes before his feet. Flowed up the hill and ...
Let not the rash marble risk garrulous breaches of oblivion's omnipotence, in many words recalling name, renown, events, birthplace. All those glass jewels are best left in the dark. Let not the marble say what men do not. The essentials of the dead ...
Prate not to me of suicide, Faint heart in battle, not for pride I say Endure, but that such end denied Makes welcomer yet the death that's to be died.
Love is not love that wounded bleeds And bleeding sullies slow. Come death within my hands and I Unto my love will go.
Desire, desire which knows, we draw no advantage from our shadows except from some veritable sovereignties accompanied by invisible flames, invisible chains, which, coming to light, step after step, cause us to shine.
Hope and desire, All unfulfilled, Have more than rope And hangman killed.
Away with them, away; we should not believe fairy stories if we wish to be good. Think of them as persons from the fairy wood.
Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm;
The god abandons Antony When at the hour of midnight an invisible choir is suddenly heard passing with exquisite music, with voices ― Do not lament your fortune that at last subsides, your life’s work that has failed, your schemes that have prove...
Books and all forms of writing are terror to those who wish to suppress truth.
I felt pain like an assault, The old pain again When the world thrusts itself inside, When we have to take in the outside, When we have to decide To be the crazy-human with hope Or just plain crazy With fear.
And now we who are writing women and strange monsters Still search our hearts to find the difficult answers, Still hope that we may learn to lay our hands More gently and more subtly on the burning sands.
Before there was any water there were tides of fire, both our tones flow from the older fountain.
Into the dark night Resignedly I go, I am not so afraid of the dark night As the friends I do not know, I do not fear the night above As I fear the friends below.
...The means of choice: She might choose to ascend The falling dream, By some angelic power without a name Reverse the motion, plunge into upwardness, Know height without an end, Density melt to air, silence yield a voice-- Within her fall she felt t...
A bolt that raised her heart to blazing height And made the vertical the very thrust of hope, And found its path at last (Slow work of Grace).
There are some griefs so loud They could bring down the sky, And there are griefs so still None knows how deep they lie, Endured, never expended. There are old griefs so proud They never speak a word; They never can be mended. And these nourish the w...
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth. There is no happiness like mine. I have been eating poetry.
