Anne Sexton Poems (219 Poems)
The Big Heart (Anne Sexton Poems)
“Too many things are occurring for even a big heart to hold.” – From an essay by W. B. Yeats Big heart, wide as a watermelon, but wise as birth, there is so much abundance in the people I have: … Continue reading
Frenzy (Anne Sexton Poems)
I am not lazy. I am on the amphetamine of the soul. I am, each day, typing out the God my typewriter believes in. Very quick. Very intense, like a wolf at a live heart. Not lazy. When a lazy … Continue reading
Cripples And Other Stories (Anne Sexton Poems)
My doctor, the comedian I called you every time and made you laugh yourself when I wrote this silly rhyme… Each time I give lectures or gather in the grants you send me off to boarding school in training pants. … Continue reading
Elizabeth Gone (Anne Sexton Poems)
1. You lay in the nest of your real death, Beyond the print of my nervous fingers Where they touched your moving head; Your old skin puckering, your lungs’ breath Grown baby short as you looked up last At my … Continue reading
The Black Art (Anne Sexton Poems)
A woman who writes feels too much, those trances and portents! As if cycles and children and islands weren’t enough; as if mourners and gossips and vegetables were never enough. She thinks she can warn the stars. A writer is … Continue reading
For John, Who Begs Me Not To Enquire Further (Anne Sexton Poems)
Not that it was beautiful, but that, in the end, there was a certain sense of order there; something worth learning in that narrow diary of my mind, in the commonplaces of the asylum where the cracked mirror or my … Continue reading
The Civil War (Anne Sexton Poems)
I am torn in two but I will conquer myself. I will dig up the pride. I will take scissors and cut out the beggar. I will take a crowbar and pry out the broken pieces of God in me. … Continue reading
The Poet Of Ignorance (Anne Sexton Poems)
Perhaps the earth is floating, I do not know. Perhaps the stars are little paper cutups made by some giant scissors, I do not know. Perhaps the moon is a frozen tear, I do not know. Perhaps God is only … Continue reading
The Break Away (Anne Sexton Poems)
Your daisies have come on the day of my divorce: the courtroom a cement box, a gas chamber for the infectious Jew in me and a perhaps land, a possibly promised land for the Jew in me, but still a … Continue reading
Rowing (Anne Sexton Poems)
A story, a story! (Let it go. Let it come.) I was stamped out like a Plymouth fender into this world. First came the crib with its glacial bars. Then dolls and the devotion to their plactic mouths. Then there … Continue reading
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