Birds In The Night (Paul Verlaine Poems)
You were not over-patient with me, dear; This want of patience one must rightly rate:You are so young! Youth ever was ...
You were not over-patient with me, dear; This want of patience one must rightly rate:You are so young! Youth ever was ...
there's only ever one argument: his,bawling out whoever punctuatesthe brief intervals his cussinginterrupts, something unheard, reason perhaps.What you never get ...
Time has dried up the sea,Swept the white clouds from the skyAnd washed out the heavens' infinite blue.Before my jaded ...
O la splendeur de notre joie,Tiss?e en or dans l'air de soie!Voici la maison douce et son pignon l?ger,Et le ...
I.(_On many recent novels by the conventional unconventionalists_.)Old Pantaloon, lean-witted, dour and rich, After grim years of soul-destroying greed,Weds Columbine, ...
Above the dark good sea the boundless air rushed here and there, it flew like a blue falcon, silently swallowing ...
The theme of the traditional poet Was not of life. In the barren expanse of his imagination He conversed with ...
kitty. sixteen,5'1",white,prostitute. ducking always the touch of must and shall, whose slippery body is Death's littlest pal, skilled in quick ...
Leafy-with-love banks and the green waters of the canal Pouring redemption for me, that I do The will of God, ...
An unwrapped icon, too potent to touch, she freed my breasts from the camp Empire dress. Now one of them's ...
"after flogging Jesus", he was sent to be crucified; but what a cryptic, banal inconsequential piece of prose What unspeakable ...
If I don't write something good tonight I will sleep without the comforting Canopus of deep believers, if I sleep ...
Bound, hungry to pluck again from the thousand technologies of ecstasy boundlessness, the world that at a drop of water ...
La sottise, l'erreur, le péché, la lésine, Occupent nos esprits et travaillent nos corps, Et nous alimentons nos aimables remords, ...
Each picture is heartbreakingly banal, a kitten and a ball of yarn, a dog and bone. The paper is cheap, ...
for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we ...
The Poetry School, The Poetry Book Society, The Poetry Business: So much poetry about you'd think I'd want to shout, ...
Tired and unhappy, you think of houses Soft-carpeted and warm in the December evening, While snow's white pieces fall past ...
They are, the surfaces, gorgeous: a master pastry chef at work here, the dips and whorls, the wrist-twist squeezes of ...
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