The Forgotten Dialect Of The Heart (Jack Gilbert Poem)
How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say, God, ...
How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say, God, ...
Over and over in each script read aloud each time reminding reminding them to focus to think about the others ...
Sitting down, the kitchen table late lunch, lot going on His pencil, well, not exactly, sitting there on the table. ...
Taken under advisement, how to explain those words aggrieved party Did the case get its due the judge hear our ...
She was free, free of the script, the words, the guide she had sitting before her Free to speak from ...
Oh you know the score, the script, the line, She's a character, main one, in her story Punch line, timing ...
Three weeks gone and the combatants gone returning over the nightmare ground we found the place again, and found the ...
Sometimes the notes are ferocious, skirmishes against the author raging along the borders of every page in tiny black script. ...
1 They that in play can do the thing they would, Having an instinct throned in reason's place, --And every ...
1 COME closer to me; Push close, my lovers, and take the best I possess; Yield closer and closer, and ...
I was never a film buff, give me Widmark and Wayne any day Saturday matin?es with Margaret Gardener still hold ...
for Ken Kesey and his merry pranksters in a bus called 'Further...' Dear _______ and here's where the problem begins ...
I hate you, rubber souls, you seem to stretch to fit any regime. They'll give a yawning smile, stretched wide, ...
all the world's a stage shrinking & life remains a same rendition without rehearsal whose script is written by no-one ...
My brother Jim's a millionaire, while I have scarce a penny; His face is creased with lines of care, While ...
Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea ...
The poem of the mind in the act of finding What will suffice. It has not always had To find: ...
1. A conversation begins with a lie. and each speaker of the so-called common language feels the ice-floe split, the ...
Something spreading underground won't speak to us under skin won't declare itself not all life-forms want dialogue with the machine-gods ...
When the loud day for men who sow and reap Grows still, and on the silence of the town The ...
In my aunt's house, the milk jug's beaded crochet cover tickles the ear. We've eaten boiled things with butter. Pie ...
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