Poem For Maya (Carolyn Forche Poem)
Dipping our bread in oil tins we talked of morning peeling open our rooms to a moment of almonds, olives ...
Dipping our bread in oil tins we talked of morning peeling open our rooms to a moment of almonds, olives ...
WHAT various ways in which a thing is told Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold; In stories we invention ...
NEAR Rome, of yore, close to the Florence road, Was seen a humble innkeeper's abode; Small sums were charged; few ...
O King of Terrors, whose unbounded Sway All that have Life, must certainly Obey; The King, the Priest, the Prophet, ...
Give me, O indulgent Fate! Give me yet before I die A sweet, but absolute retreat, 'Mongst paths so lost ...
Tis true of courage I'm no mistress No Boadicia nor Thalestriss Nor shall I e'er be famed hereafter For such ...
The Baron has decided to mate the monster, to breed him perhaps, in the interests of pure science, his only ...
Lancaster bore him--such a little town, Such a great man. It doesn't see him often Of late years, though he ...
I didn't make you know how glad I was To have you come and camp here on our land. I ...
There were only a few of them In all the earth Each one thought he was alone They sang, they ...
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house, Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The ...
Consecrated to the Glorious Memory of His Most Serene and Renowned Highness, Oliver, Late Lord Protector of This Commonwealth, etc. ...
FEBRUARY, 1917 I never thought again to hear The Oxford thrushes singing clear, Amid the February rain, Their sweet, indomitable ...
I Once, only once, I saw it clear, -- That Eden every human heart has dreamed A hundred times, but ...
IN HOLLAND The laggard winter ebbed so slow With freezing rain and melting snow, It seemed as if the earth ...
When the frosty kiss of Autumn in the dark Makes its mark On the flowers, and the misty morning grieves ...
Whose are the little beds, I asked Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others smiled -- ...
Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep -- Its awful chamber open stands -- Its Curtains blandly sweep ...
It seldom snowed in Camp they said, on the mountains, yes, and in the Styx, aka zone six. That's where ...
A crystalline awakening on the plateau, the crisp air as brittle as new celery snaps with expectancy. The cold clings ...
Body, remember not only how much you were loved, not only the beds on which you lay, but also those ...
I sing the Name which None can say But touch't with An interiour Ray: The Name of our New Peace; ...
Lost aboard the roll of Kodac- olor that was to have super- seded all need to remember Somerset were: a ...
Window's tree trunk's predominant face a single eye-leveled hole where limb's torn off another larger contorts to swell growing in ...
Low was our pretty Cot : our tallest Rose Peep'd at the chamber-window. We could hear At silent noon, and ...
These tiny loiterers on the barley's beard, And happy units of a numerous herd Of playfellows, the laughing Summer brings, ...
Come queen of months in company Wi all thy merry minstrelsy The restless cuckoo absent long And twittering swallows chimney ...
There is a Rose at Auschwitz, in the briar, a rose like Sharon's, lovely as her name. The world forgot ...
LEANDER. No more of Memphis and her mighty kings, Or Alexandria, where the Ptolomies. Taught golden commerce to unfurl her ...
If all the world and love were young, And truth in every shepherd's tongue, These pretty pleasures might me move ...
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