#AmericanWriters
I remember, I remember The house where I was born; The rent was thirty-two a month, Which made my father mourn. He said he could remember when
Horace: Book IV, Ode 11 “Est mihi nonum superantis annum—” Phyllis, I’ve a jar of wine, (Alban, B.C. 49) Parsley wreathes, and, for your tr…
Curly locks, Curly Locks, wilt th… Thou shalt not wash dishes, nor ye… But stand in the kitchen and cook… And ride every night in an automob… Curly Locks, Curly Locks, come t…
“Nam nihil est, quod non mortalibu… —PETRONIUS Nothing there is that mortal man m… What in our wealth we treasured, i… The gold upon a sinking ship has o…
Well William, since I wrote you l… As I recall, one cool October mor… (I have The Tribune files. They… I gave you warning). Since when I penned that conseque…
Writers of baseball, attention! When you’re again on the job– When, in your rage for invention, You with the language play hob– Most of your dope we will pardon,
All stark and cold the merchant la… All cold and stark lay he. And who hath killed the fair merch… Now tell the truth to me. Oh, I have killed this fair merch…
I do not hold with him who thinks The world is jonahed by a jinx; That everything is sad and sour, And life a withered hothouse flowe… I hate the Polyanna pest
Horace: Book II, Elegy 2 “Liber eram et vacuo meditabar viv… I was free. I thought that I had… Love’s Antarctic Zone. “A truce to sentiment,” I said. “…
Horace: Book I, Ode 19 “Mater sæva Cupidinum” Venus, the cruel mother of The Cupids (symbolising Love), Bids me to muse upon and sigh
A quatrain fills a little space, Although it’s pretty small, And oftentimes, as in this case, It has no point at all.
A soft susurrus in the night, A song whose singer is unseen– ’Twere poetry itself to write ‘A soft susurrus in the night!’ I know, as those mosquitos bite,
“Oh bard,” I said, “your verse is… The shackles that encumber me, The fetters that are my obsession, Are never gyves to your expression… ”The fear of falsities in rhyme,
There was a man in our town who ha… He gave away his millions to the c… And people cried: “The hypocrite!… The ones who really need him are t… When Andrew Croesus built a home…
“Gentle Jane was as good as gold,… To borrow a line from Mr. Gilbert… She hated War with a hate untold, She was a pacifistic filbert. If you said “Perhaps”—she’d leave…