Irony (Amy Lowell Poem)
An arid daylight shines along the beach Dried to a grey monotony of tone, And stranded jelly-fish melt soft upon ...
An arid daylight shines along the beach Dried to a grey monotony of tone, And stranded jelly-fish melt soft upon ...
My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? Psalm 22 When fever burned the last light out of my ...
Madam Life's a piece in bloom Death goes dogging everywhere: She's the tenant of the room, He's the ruffian on ...
Clenched knuckles On my steering wheel A red light above me A black pickup - A wall before me No ...
Vivid memory Twenty-five years past Her hands Old, blotched, tired Gripped the sheet metal Chair below her White knuckles Held ...
White knuckles on the wheel holding fast to my lane between the wiper strokes and blur of reckless drivers on ...
"Willis, I didn't want you here to-day: The lawyer's coming for the company. I'm going to sell my soul, or, ...
What's in a song John (or is it 'Knuckles'), what's in a song about an unemployed, suicidal bum, caught in ...
As one who strives a hill to climb, Who never climbed before: Who finds it, in a little time, Grow ...
The First Voice HE trilled a carol fresh and free, He laughed aloud for very glee: There came a breeze ...
I love to lick English the way I licked the hard round licorice sticks the Belgian nuns gave me for ...
DRUM on your drums, batter on your banjoes, sob on the long cool winding saxophones. Go to it, O jazzmen. ...
THE LAWYERS, Bob, know too much. They are chums of the books of old John Marshall. They know it all, ...
IT is something to face the sun and know you are free. To hold your head in the shafts of ...
I SAW a mouth jeering. A smile of melted red iron ran over it. Its laugh was full of nails ...
(To Mrs. Henry Richards) Isaac and Archibald were two old men. I knew them, and I may have laughed at ...
In the dour ages Of drafty cells and draftier castles, Of dragons breathing without the frame of fables, Saint and ...
Old man, you surface seldom. Then you come in with the tide's coming When seas wash cold, foam- Capped: white ...
I tell you that I see her still At the dark entrance of the hall. One gas lamp burning near ...
It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who ...
Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets, machines throbbing quicker than the heart, lopped-off heads, silk canvases, ...
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