#AmericanWriters
In my room, the world is beyond my… But when I walk I see that it con… hills and a cloud. From my balcony, I survey the yel… Reading where I have written,
Not less because in purple I desc… The western day through what you c… The loneliest air, not less was I… What was the ointment sprinkled on… What were the hymns that buzzed be…
The house was quiet and the world… The reader became the book; and su… Was like the conscious being of th… The house was quiet and the world… The words were spoken as if there…
What syllable are you seeking, Vocalissimus, In the distances of sleep? Speak it.
As the immense dew of Florida Brings forth The big-finned palm And green vine angering for life, As the immense dew of Florida
q|And for what, except for you, do… Do I press the extremest book of… Close to me, hidden in me day and… In the uncertain light of single,… Equal in living changingness to th…
That’s what misery is, Nothing to have at heart. It is to have or nothing. It is a thing to have, A lion, an ox in his breast,
An old man sits In the shadow of a pine tree In China. He sees larkspur, Blue and white,
Light the first light of evening,… In which we rest and, for small re… The world imagined is the ultimate… This is, therefore, the intensest… It is in that thought that we coll…
Her terrace was the sand And the palms and the twilight. She made of the motions of her wri… The grandiose gestures Of her thought.
There’s a little square in Paris, Waiting until we pass. They sit idly there, They sip the glass. There’s a cab-horse at the corner,
One chemical afternoon in mid-autu… When the grand mechanics of earth… Even the leaves of the locust were… He walked with his year-old boy on… The sun shone and the dog barked a…
Ariel was glad he had written his… They were of a remembered time Or of something seen that he liked… Other makings of the sun Were waste and welter
After the final no there comes a y… And on that yes the future world d… No was the night. Yes is this pre… If the rejected things, the things… Slid over the western cataract, ye…
There are great things doing In the world, Little rabbit. There is a damsel, Sweeter than the sound of the will…