There’s little in taking or giving… There’s little in water or wine; This living, this living, this liv… Was never a project of mine. Oh, hard is the struggle, and spar…
Time will say nothing but I told… Time only knows the price we have… If I could tell you I would let y… If we should weep when clowns put… If we should stumble when musician…
Once I am sure there’s nothing go… I step inside, letting the door th… Another church: matting, seats, an… And little books; sprawlings of fl… For Sunday, brownish now; some br…
Every morning the world is created. Under the orange sticks of the sun
You begin this way: this is your hand, this is your eye, that is a fish, blue and flat on the paper, almost
A million million spermatozoa All of them alive; Out of their cataclysm but one poo… Dare hope to survive. And among that billion minus one
Some say the world will end in fir… Some say in ice. From what I’ve tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if I had to perish twice,
On a summer morning I sat down on a hillside to think about God – a worthy pastime.
I’d like to leave but daffodills to mark my little way, To leave but tulips red and white behind me as I stray; I’d like to pass away from earth
Come let us mock at the great That had such burdens on the mind And toiled so hard and late To leave some monument behind, Nor thought of the levelling wind.
Doom is dark and deeper than any s… Upon what man it fall In spring, day-wishing flowers app… Avalanche sliding, white snow from… That he should leave his house,
Lord, the Roman hyacinths are blo… The winter sun creeps by the snow… The stubborn season has made stand… My life is light, waiting for the… Like a feather on the back of my h…
Our shells clacked on the plates. My tongue was a filling estuary, My palate hung with starlight: As I tasted the salty Pleiades Orion dipped his foot into the wat…
Lord Strawberry, a nobleman, collected birds. He had the finest aviary in Europe, so large that eagles did not find it uncomfortable, so well laid out that both humming birds and snow-b...
too much too little too fat too thin or nobody.
Thinking in terms of one Is easily done— One room, one bed, one chair, One person there, Makes perfect sense; one set
there is enough treachery, hatred… human being to supply any given ar… and the best at murder are those w… and the best at hate are those who… and the best at war finally are th…
I was six when I first saw kitten… Dan Taggart pitched them, 'the sc… Into a bucket; a frail metal sound… Soft paws scraping like mad. But… Was soon soused. They were slung…
Swerving east, from rich industria… And traffic all night north; swerv… Too thin and thistled to be called… And now and then a harsh—named hal… Workmen at dawn; swerving to solit…
“For example, what the trees do not only in lightning storms or the watery dark of a summer’s n… or under the white nets of winter but now, and now, and now—whenever
More and more frequently the edges of me dissolve and I become a wish to assimilate the world, in… you, if possible through the skin like a cool plant’s tricks with ox…
I come from a musical place Where they shoot me for my song And my brother has been tortured By my brother in my land. I come from a beautiful place
Grey haunted eyes, absent-mindedly… From wide, uneven orbits; one brow… Somewhat over the eye Because of a missile fragment stil… Skin-deep, as a foolish record of…
Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head Because of my dear Jack that’s de…
Is the soul solid, like iron? Or is it tender and breakable, lik… the wings of a moth in the beak of… Who has it, and who doesn’t? I keep looking around me.
Don’t call this world adorable, or… It’s frisky, and a theater for mor… The eyelash of lightning is neithe… The struck tree burns like a pilla… But the blue rain sinks, straight…
It is December in Wicklow: Alders dripping, birches Inheriting the last light, The ash tree cold to look at. A comet that was lost
The boat of the boatman Madhu is… It is uselessly laden with jute, a… for ever so long. If he would only lend me his boat,… hundred oars, and hoist sails, fiv…
a space in time outside the comfort zone the choice is very clear contagion life and death
Those long uneven lines Standing as patiently As if they were stretched outside The Oval or Villa Park, The crowns of hats, the sun