#EnglishWriters
This is not Love, perhaps, Love that lays down its life, that many waters cannot quench, nor the floods drown, But something written in lighter i…
Light drunkenly reels into shadow; Blurs, slurs uneasily; Slides off the eyeballs: The segments shatter. Tree-branches cut arc-light in rag…
Suddenly, desperately I thought, “No, never In millions of minutes Can I for one second Calm-leaving my own self
When you are slightly drunk Things are so close, so friendly. The road asks to be walked upon, The road rewards you for walking With firm upward contact answering…
People who are afraid of themselve… Multiply themselves into families And so divide themselves And so become less afraid. People who might have to go out
The birch tree in winter Leaning over the secret pool Is Narcissus in love With the slight white branches, The slim trunk,
We being so hidden from those who Have quietly borne and fed us, How can we answer civilly Their innocent invitations? How can we say “we see you
Climb, claim your shelf-room, far Packed from inquisitive moon And cold contagious stars. Lean out, but look no longer, No further, than to stir
Blame us for these who were cradle… Watching our sidelong watching, fe… Playing their blind-man’s-bluff in… Their follow-my-leader on a stair…
The clock disserts on punctuation,… The clock’s voice, thin and dry, a… The clock insists: a lecturer demo… Loudly, with finger raised, when t… But time flows through the room, l…
Bells overbrim with sound And spread from cupolas Out through the shaking air Endless unbreaking circles Cool and clear as water.
Dogs take new friends abruptly and… Cats’ meetings are neat, tactual,… Monkeys exchange their fleas befor… Snakes, no doubt, coil by coil rea… We then, at first encounter, shoul…
Cats no less liquid than their sha… Offer no angles to the wind. They slip, diminished, neat throug… Less than themselves; will not be… To rules or routes for journeys; c…
The sun, a heavy spider, spins in… The wind hides under cactus leaves… Small shadow accompanies Hamlet-P… Wry sniggering shadow in front of… The plumed cavalcade has passed to…
Wouldn’t you say, Wouldn’t you say: one day, With a little more time or a littl… Disentangle for separate, delibera… One of the moment’s hundred strand…