#EnglishWriters
After I had cut off my hands and grown new ones something my former hands had long… came and asked to be rocked. After my plucked out eyes
Green Snake, when I hung you roun… and stroked your cold, pulsing thr… as you hissed to me, glinting arrowy gold scales, and I felt the weight of you on my shoulders,
The fire in leaf and grass so green it seems each summer the last summer. The wind blowing, the leaves shivering in the sun,
“I am a landscape,” he said. “a landscape and a person walking… There are daunting cliffs there, And plains glad in their way of brown monotony. But especially
The old wooden steps to the front… where I was sitting that fall morn… when you came downstairs, just awa… and my joy at sight of you (emergi… into golden day—
A certain day became a presence to… there it was, confronting me—a sky… a being. And before it started to… from the height of noon, it leaned… and struck my shoulder as if with
We live our lives of human passion… cruelties, dreams, concepts, crimes and the exercise of virtue in and beside a world devoid of our preoccupations, free
To lie back under the tallest oldest trees. How far the stems rise, rise before ribs of shelter open!
That dog with daisies for eyes who flashes forth flame of his very self at every ba… is the Dog of Art. Worked in wool, his blind eyes
Intricate and untraceable weaving and interweaving, dark strand with light: designed, beyond all spiderly contrivance,
Pale, then enkindled, light advancing, emblazoning summits of palm and pine,
A doll’s hair concealing an eggshell skull delicately throbbing, within which maggots in voluptuous unrest jostle and shrug. Oh, Eileen, my
This is the year the old ones, the old great ones leave us alone on the road. The road leads to the sea. We have the words in our pockets,
An old man whose black face shines golden-brown as wet pebbles under the streetlamp, is walking t… proportionate size, in the rain, in the relaxed early-evening avenu…
Since I stroll in the woods more… than on this frequented path, it’s… trees I observe; but among fellow… what I like best is to see an old… fishing alone at the end of a jett…