#AmericanWriters
Into love and out again, Thus I went, and thus I go. Spare your voice, and hold your pe… Well and bitterly I know All the songs were ever sung,
When I was young and bold and str… Oh, right was right, and wrong was… My plume on high, my flag unfurled… I rode away to right the world. “Come out, you dogs, and fight!” s…
Oh, mercifullest one of all, Oh, generous as dear, None lived so lowly, none so small… Thou couldst withhold thy tear: How swift, in pure compassion,
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp; Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp. Guns aren’t lawful;
Carlyle combined the lit’ry life With throwing teacups at his wife, Remarking, rather testily, “Oh, stop your dodging, Mrs. C.!”
Now it’s over, and now it’s done; Why does everything look the same? Just as bright, the unheeding sun,… Can’t it see that the parting came… People hurry and work and swear,
“It’s queer,” she said; “I see th… As plain as I beheld it then, All silver—like and calm and brigh… We’ve not had stars like that agai… ”And she was such a gentle thing
Who was there had seen us Wouldn’t bid him run? Heavy lay between us All our sires had done. There he was, a-springing
Only name the day, and we’ll fly a… In the face of old traditions, To a sheltered spot, by the world… Where we’ll park our inhibitions. Come and gaze in eyes where the lo…
Hope it was that tutored me, And Love that taught me more; And now I learn at Sorrow’s knee The self-same lore.
Lady, lady, never start Conversation toward your heart; Keep your pretty words serene; Never murmur what you mean. Show yourself, by word and look,
The friends I made have slipped a… And who’s the one that cares? A trifling lot and best forgot– And that’s my tale, and theirs. Then if my friendships break and b…
When I am old, and comforted, And done with this desire, With Memory to share my bed And Peace to share my fire, I’ll comb my hair in scalloped ban…
If I had a shiny gun, I could have a world of fun Speeding bullets through the brain… Of the folk who give me pains; Or had I some poison gas,
When my eyes are weeds, And my lips are petals, spinning Down the wind that has beginning Where the crumpled beeches start In a fringe of salty reeds;