Babel: The Gate Of The God (Gordon Bottomley Poems)
Lost towers impend, copeless primeval props Of the new threatening sky, and first rude digits Of awe remonstrance and uneasy power Thrust out ...
Lost towers impend, copeless primeval props Of the new threatening sky, and first rude digits Of awe remonstrance and uneasy power Thrust out ...
When was your immortal deed set and sealed?Or, could it have been a childish dreamThat came as a sinister messageInto ...
At dawnThe cold steel blade of timeFalls once again across my browAnd as its golden compromiseSurrenders to my will(Your heart ...
mehitabel the cat claims thatshe has a human soulalso and has transmigratedfrom body to body and itmay be so boss ...
There are mottoes on the family crests of EnglandSince the Conqueror blew his conk upon our shoresIt's grand to have ...
The bear that breathes the northern blastDid numb, torpedo-like, a waspWhose stiffened limbs encramped, lay bathingIn Sol's warm breath and ...
Sudden words from my daily life, my mind's eye, words gifted to me leaping onto the page sharing serendipity, beauty, ...
All is quiet in the house, girls asleep, slowing down the only sound my fingers clicking these words the purr ...
Staring at the screen the computer watch the flash of images, messages of nothingness flickering bits of news with no ...
I hear the verse in the cells of my fingers feel the pull of the words on the keyboard typing ...
A Decade, double digits and all of that Today is her birthday so give a cheer for the divine Miss ...
The ticket settles on my desk: a paper tongue pronouncing "Go away;" a flattened seed from which a thousand-mile leap ...
The bear that breathes the northern blast Did numb, torpedo-like, a wasp Whose stiffened limbs encramped, lay bathing In Sol's ...
It is snowing and death bugs me as stubborn as insomnia. The fierce bubbles of chalk, the little white lesions ...
The admirable number pi: three point one four one. All the following digits are also just a start, five nine ...
All profits disappear: the gain Of ease, the hoarded, secret sum; And now grim digits of old pain Return to ...
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