Satire II (John Donne Poems)
Sir; though (I thanke God for it) I do hatePerfectly all this towne, yet there's one stateIn all ill things ...
Sir; though (I thanke God for it) I do hatePerfectly all this towne, yet there's one stateIn all ill things ...
This trumpeter of nothingness, employedTo keep our reason dull and null and void.This man of wind and froth and flux ...
Once in stormes greate A shippe was beate Soe sore with tempestes rage That naughte was able Ancre nor Cable The daunger to assuage. The shippemenne ...
The sun, a heavy spider, spins in the thirsty sky.The wind hides under cactus leaves, in doorway corners. Only the ...
I, after difficult entry through my mother's bloodAnd stumbling childhood (hitting my head against the world);I, intricate, easily unshipped, untracked, ...
Light's patterns freeze:Frost on our faces.Light's pollen siftsThrough the lids of our eyes ...Light sinks and rustsIn water; is brokenBy ...
Architects plant their imagination, weld their poems on rock,Clamp them to the skidding rim of the world and anchor them ...
We expected the violin's finger on the upturned nerve;Its importunate cry, too laxly curved:And you drew us an oboe-outline, clean ...
To walk as you walk, green eye, smiler, notEven ostentatiously alone but simplyAlone ... arching the back in courteous discourtesy,Gathering ...
Bells overbrim with soundAnd spread from cupolasOut through the shaking airEndless unbreaking circlesCool and clear as water.A stone dropped in ...
Clothes: to composeThe furtive, lonePillar of boneTo some repose.To let hands shirkUtterance behindA pocket's blindDeceptive smirk.To mask, belieThe undue hasteOf ...
Under the lips and limbs, the embraces, faces,Under the sharp circumference, the brightness,Under the fence of shadows,Is something I am ...
The clock disserts on punctuation, syntax.The clock's voice, thin and dry, asserts, repeats.The clock insists: a lecturer demonstrating,Loudly, with finger ...
Serrations of chimneysStone-black perforateVelvet-black dark.A tree coils in core of darkness.My swingingHandsIncise the night.A man slips into a doorway,Black hole ...
The birch tree in winterLeaning over the secret poolIs Narcissus in loveWith the slight white branches,The slim trunk,In the dark ...
Blame us for these who were cradled and rocked in our chaos;Watching our sidelong watching, fearing our fear;Playing their blind-man's-bluff ...
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