J–K. Huysmans (Amy Lowell Poem)
A flickering glimmer through a window-pane, A dim red glare through mud bespattered glass, Cleaving a path between blown walls ...
A flickering glimmer through a window-pane, A dim red glare through mud bespattered glass, Cleaving a path between blown walls ...
When the heavy sand is yielding backward from your blistered feet, And across the distant timber you can SEE the ...
When the heavy sand is yielding backward from your blistered feet, And across the distant timber you can SEE the ...
Gloomy and dark art thou, O chief of the mighty Omahas; Gloomy and dark as the driving cloud, whose name ...
I dreamed that I ws dead and crossed the heavens,-- Heavens after heavens with burning feet and swift,-- And cried: ...
Things are uncertain; and the more we get, The more on icy pavements we are set. (Robert Herrick)
heeley (sheffield) autumn 1988 dodging the broken bottles dog-shit the pavement spew i wheel my young son matthew through the ...
the two hands of me make inimical gestures that only long after betray the one tune though they have the ...
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! The world is holy! The ...
Drinking my tea Without sugar- No difference. The sparrow shits upside down --ah! my brain & eggs Mayan head in ...
The firm house lingers, though averse to square With the new city street it has to wear A number in. ...
In Kohln, a town of monks and bones, And pavements fang'd with murderous stones And rags, and hags, and hideous ...
In K?hln, a town of monks and bones, And pavements fang'd with murderous stones And rags, and hags, and hideous ...
Heart, you are restless as a paper scrap That's tossed down dusty pavements by the wind; Saying, "She is most ...
Nothing was remembered, nothing forgotten. When we awoke, wagons were passing on the warm summer pavements, The window-sills were wet ...
I The bitterness. the misery, the wretchedness of childhood Put me out of love with God. I can't believe in ...
The red globe of light, the liquor green, the pulsing arrows and the running fire spilt on the stones, go ...
To the Williamson Brothers HIGH noon. White sun flashes on the Michigan Avenue asphalt. Drum of hoofs and whirr of ...
I I have loved England, dearly and deeply, Since that first morning, shining and pure, The white cliffs of Dover ...
All my life to pretend this world of theirs is mine And to know such pretending is disgraceful. But what ...
I. THE VOICE OF THE MAN IMPATIENT WITH VISIONS AND UTOPIAS We find your soft Utopias as white As new-cut ...
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