#AmericanWriters
Granted, we die for good. Life, then, is largely a thing Of happens to like, not should. And that, too, granted, why Do I happen to like red bush,
The poem of the mind in the act of… What will suffice. It has not alw… To find: the scene was set; it rep… Was in the script. Then the theatre was changed
The poem must resist the intellige… Almost successfully. Illustration… A brune figure in winter evening r… Identity. The thing he carries re… The most necessitous sense. Accep…
First Girl When this yokel comes maundering, Whetting his hacker, I shall run before him, Diffusing the civilest odors
I had as lief be embraced by the p… As to get no more from the moonlig… Than your moist hand. Be the voice of the night and Flo… Use dasky words and dusky images.
Opusculum paedagogum. The pears are not viols, Nudes or bottles. They resemble nothing else. II
he moon is the mother of pathos an… When, at the wearier end of Novem… Her old light moves along the bran… Feebly, slowly, depending upon the… When the body of Jesus hangs in a…
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…
Pour the unhappiness out From your too bitter heart, Which grieving will not sweeten. Poison grows in this dark. It is in the water of tears
As the immense dew of Florida Brings forth The big-finned palm And green vine angering for life, As the immense dew of Florida
Call the roller of big cigars, The muscular one, and bid him whip In kitchen cups concupiscent curds… Let the wenches dawdle in such dre… As they are used to wear, and let…
Barque of phosphor On the palmy beach, Move outward into heaven, Into the alabasters And night blues.
Just as my fingers on these keys Make music, so the self-same sound… On my spirit make a music, too. Music is feeling, then, not sound; And thus it is that what I feel,
The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings,
On the threshold of heaven, the fi… Become the figures of heaven, the… Of men growing small in the distan… Singing, with smaller and still sm… Unintelligible absolution and an e…