#AmericanWriters #Couplet #FreeVerse
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, th… waste of broad, muddy fields
contend in a sea which the land pa… shielding them from the too—heavy… of an ungoverned ocean which when… tortures the biggest hulls, the be… to pit against its beatings, and s…
The murderer’s little daughter who is barely ten years old jerks her shoulders right and left so as to catch a glimpse of me
a burst of iris so that come down for breakfast we searched through the rooms for
"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—
Snow falls: years of anger following hours that float idly down — the blizzard drifts its weight
Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.
This horrible but superb painting the parable of the blind without a red in the composition shows a group of beggars leading
Among of green stiff old
ALL those treasures that lie in t… Mightier than the room of the star… All those treasures—I hold them i… Against the sides and the lid and… Crying that there is no sun come a…
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
In this world of as fine a pair of breasts as ever I saw the fountain in Madison Square
Little round moon up there—wait awhile—do not walk so quickly. I could sing you a song—: Wine clear the sky is and the stars no bigger than sparks! Wait for me and next winter we’ll bui...
It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.
What have I to say to you When we shall meet? Yet— I lie here thinking of you. The stain of love