Lead Soldiers (Amy Lowell Poem)
The nursery fire burns brightly, crackling in cheerful little explosions and trails of sparks up the back of the chimney. ...
The nursery fire burns brightly, crackling in cheerful little explosions and trails of sparks up the back of the chimney. ...
We sat in the belly of the aeroplane and held out for sirens to swerve across the grass; men with ...
You might come here Sunday on a whim. Say your life broke down. The last good kiss you had was ...
Against the enormous rocks of a rough coast The ocean rams itself in pitched assault And spastic rage to which ...
Stirs its ashes and embers, its burnt sticks An eye powdered over, half melted and solid again Ponders Ideas that ...
in my reading of the moment i have learned the figure next to christ in da vinci's last supper (a ...
For my love, for my beautiful wife I love you more, so much more, in missing you, wanting you with ...
So like a flower and a current of air the flow of water fleeting shadows the smile glimpsed at midnight ...
Here on the slopes of hills, facing the dusk and the cannon of time Close to the gardens of broken ...
if you believe nothing is always what's left after a while, as I did, If you believe you have this ...
Captain AJ Shout, VC, MC, MID (& bar), who died at Gallipoli of wounds and was posthumously awarded the VC, ...
It took several hours. There were spaces in the cookware of which no one was aware, save the poet. The ...
I know it's a bad title but I'm giving it to myself as a gift on a day nearly canceled ...
Unfunny uncles who insist in trying on a lady's hat, --oh, even if the joke falls flat, we share your ...
The moment when, after many years of hard work and a long voyage you stand in the centre of your ...
I keep on dying again. Veins collapse, opening like the Small fists of sleeping Children. Memory of old tombs, Rotting ...
This is the yarn he told me As we sat in Casey's Bar, That Rooshun mug who scammed from the ...
I In barns we crouch, and under stacks of straw, Harking the storm that rides a hurtling legion Up the ...
Stripped you're beginning to float free up through the smoke of brushfires and incinerators the unleafed branches won't hold you ...
(AMSTERDAM, 1645) And there you are again, now as you are. Observe yourself as you discern yourself In your discredited ...
Time collapses between the lips of strangers my days collapse into a hollow tube soon implodes against now like an ...
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