#AmericanWriters
Revolution is the Pod Systems rattle from When the Winds of Will are stirre… Excellent is Bloom But except its Russet Base
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry....
It dropped so low in my regard I heard it hit the ground, And go to pieces on the stones At bottom of my mind; Yet blamed the fate that fractured…
870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”
413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–
I had not minded—Walls— Were Universe—one Rock— And far I heard his silver Call The other side the Block— I’d tunnel—till my Groove
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
XLV DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain.
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
587 Empty my Heart, of Thee— Its single Artery— Begin, and leave Thee out— Simply Extinction’s Date—
769 One and One—are One— Two—be finished using— Well enough for schools— But for minor Choosing—
695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—
I felt a cleaving in my mind As if my brain had split; I tried to match it, seam by seam, But could not make them fit. The thought behind I strove to jo…
11 I never told the buried gold Upon the hill—that lies— I saw the sun—his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.
942 Snow beneath whose chilly softness Some that never lay Make their first Repose this Wint… I admonish Thee