#EnglishWriters
Nobody I know would like to be bu… with a silver cocktail-shaker, a transistor radio and a strangled daily help, or keep his word becau… of a great-great-grandmother who g…
Some say love’s a little boy, And some say it’s a bird, Some say it makes the world go aro… Some say that’s absurd, And when I asked the man next—doo…
Our hunting fathers told the story Of the sadness of the creatures, Pitied the limits and the lack Set in their finished features; Saw in the lion’s intolerant look,
At Dirty Dick’s and Sloppy Joe’s We drank our liquor straight, Some went upstairs with Margery, And some, alas, with Kate; And two by two like cat and mouse
Let me tell you a little story About Miss Edith Gee; She lived in Clevedon Terrace At number 83. She’d a slight squint in her left…
He looked in all His wisdom from… Down on that humble boy who kept t… And sent a dove; the dove returned… Youth liked the music, but soon fe… But He had planned such future fo…
Encased in talent like a uniform, The rank of every poet is well kno… They can amaze us like a thunderst… Or die so young, or live for years… They can dash forward like hussars…
Did you ever hear about Cocaine L… She lived in Cocaine town on Coca… She had a cocaine dog and a cocain… They fought all night with a cocai… She had cocaine hair on her cocain…
Carry her over the water, And set her down under the tree, Where the culvers white all days a… And the winds from every quarter, Sing agreeably, agreeably, agreeab…
Stop all the clocks, cut off the t… Prevent the dog from barking with… Silence the pianos and with muffle… Bring out the coffin, let the mour… Let aeroplanes circle moaning over…
Perfection, of a kind, was what he… And the poetry he invented was eas… He knew human folly like the back… And was greatly interested in armi… When he laughed, respectable senat…
It’s no use raising a shout. No, Honey, you can cut that right… I don’t want any more hugs; Make me some fresh tea, fetch me s… Here am I, here are you:But what…
That night when joy began Our narrowest veins to flush, We waited for the flash Of morning’s levelled gun. But morning let us pass,
Unrhymed, unrhythmical, the chatte… Yet no one hears his own remarks a… Beneath each topic tunelessly disc… The ground-bass is reciprocal mist… The names in fashion shuttling to…
My dear one is mine as mirrors are… As the poor and sad are real to th… And the high green hill sits alway… Up jumped the Black Man behind th… Turned a somersault and ran away w…