Now Returned Home (Robinson Jeffers Poem)
Beyond the narrows of the Inner Hebrides We sailed the cold angry sea toward Barra, where Heaval mountain Lifts like ...
Beyond the narrows of the Inner Hebrides We sailed the cold angry sea toward Barra, where Heaval mountain Lifts like ...
About suffering, about adoration, the old masters Disagree. When someone suffers, no one else eats Or walks or opens the ...
The harbingers are come. See, see their mark; White is their colour, and behold my head. But must they have ...
GRANDMOTHER's mother: her age, I guess, Thirteen summers, or something less; Girlish bust, but womanly air; Smooth, square forehead with ...
to the memory of my friend SI-YA-U, whose head was cut off in Shanghai A CLAIM Renowned Leonardo's world-famous "La ...
High on a slope in New Guinea The Grumman Hellcat lodges among bright vines as thick as arms. In 1943, ...
The ocean heaves around us still With long and measured swell, The autumn gales our canvas fill, Our ship rides ...
I have put on my great coat it is cold. It is an outer garment. Coarse, woolen. Of unknown origin. ...
Every picture tells a story yet words can draw, can paint can make a picture a rich tapestry, the splash ...
Standing on water buoyed by your love even when the winds make some standing confidently knowing you can hold me ...
Seemingly wet, alive dripping, overflowing saturated with new color each flower giving, sharing pouring out, into the wings more than ...
The yellow swallowtail elegant butterfly moving dancing on the humid air flitting to the garden Coming to alight, resting perching ...
The strider skating like the Apollo lunar lander standing in the moon dust leaving a mere impression Standing on the ...
As certain of the strider counting on the surface tension to buoy it up on its feet We are to ...
God's artistry played out before us painting the dawn on the canvas of the sky the seas warming with the ...
The light of the morning so fast and changing the sky lit up, brilliant dancing before my eyes Gossamer yellows, ...
Rich vibrant, living color Dying on the branch In glory as I drive by A canopy over my way Or ...
A slit cut through gray, layered bunting morning sky Yellow light and white light Sol walking, pushing, stepping through a ...
In town to sell his fruit, he saw her- Françoise in her summer slacks- turning to him, coming back to ...
Here on the slopes of hills, facing the dusk and the cannon of time Close to the gardens of broken ...
I pray you, Sadness, leave me soon, In sweet invention thou art poor! Thy sister, Joy can make ten songs ...
Those fair -- fictitious People -- The Women -- plucked away From our familiar Lifetime -- The Men of Ivory ...
The Outer -- from the Inner Derives its Magnitude -- 'Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood ...
The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go -- The Crocus -- til she rises The Vassal of ...
There wasn't room for sympathy, the epicentre moved too rapidly for that and even when we knew the anger of ...
I thought of how a whale's white ribs could choke the sky's blue neck, massive vertebrae half-buried in sand, and ...
As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay With canvas drooping, side by side, Two towers of sail at dawn of ...
In most self-portraits it is the face that dominates: Cezanne is a pair of eyes swimming in brushstrokes, Van Gogh ...
LEANDER. No more of Memphis and her mighty kings, Or Alexandria, where the Ptolomies. Taught golden commerce to unfurl her ...
WITNESS FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA PEACE In San Francisco around Easter time last year, they had a trout fishing ...
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