#EnglishWriters
Music curls In the stone shells Of the arches, and rings Their stone bells. Music lips
We expected the violin’s finger on… Its importunate cry, too laxly cur… And you drew us an oboe-outline, c… Unadorned statement, accurately ca… We expected the screen, the backgr…
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…
To walk as you walk, green eye, sm… Even ostentatiously alone but simp… Alone... arching the back in court… Gathering the body as a dancer bef… Audience, treading earth scantly -…
Light’s patterns freeze: Frost on our faces. Light’s pollen sifts Through the lids of our eyes... Light sinks and rusts
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…
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
You cannot see the walls that divi… From his or hers or mine when you… You cannot see the walls because t… And glass is nothing until you try… Beat on it if you like, but not to…
I am the unnoticed, the unnoticabl… The man who sat on your right in t… The man who looked through like a… The man who was the colour of the… Morning pipe smoke.
Light drunkenly reels into shadow; Blurs, slurs uneasily; Slides off the eyeballs: The segments shatter. Tree-branches cut arc-light in rag…
Ice-cold fear has slowly decreased As my bones have grown, my height… Though I shiver in snow of dreams… Freeze again in a noonday terror. I shall never break, my sinews cru…
One day people will touch and talk… And loving be natural as breathing… And people will untie themselves,… Unfold and yawn and stretch and sp… Unfurl, uncurl like seaweed return…
This trumpeter of nothingness, emp… To keep our reason dull and null a… This man of wind and froth and flu… The wares of any who reward him we… Praising whatever he is paid to pr…
(Windless Summer) Between the glass panes of the sea… Patterns of fronds, and the bronze… (Winter) Foam-ropes lasso the seal-black sh…
This shape without space, This pattern without stuff, This stream without dimension Surrounds us, flows through us, But leaves no mark.