Like The Train’s Beat (Philip Larkin Poems)
Like the train's beat Swift language flutters the lips Of the Polish airgirl in the corner seat, The swinging and ...
Like the train's beat Swift language flutters the lips Of the Polish airgirl in the corner seat, The swinging and ...
When I see a couple of kids And guess he's fucking her and she's Taking pills or wearing a diaphragm, ...
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis, How the handsome Yenadizze Danced at Hiawatha's wedding; How the gentle Chibiabos, He the sweetest ...
Sing, O Song of Hiawatha, Of the happy days that followed, In the land of the Ojibways, In the pleasant ...
In Italy, where this sort of thing can occur, I had a vision once - though you understand It was ...
I wayed by star and planet shine Towards the dear one's home At Kingsbere, there to make her mine When ...
(i) introduction his home in ruins his parents gone frederick seeks to reclaim his throne to the golden mountain he ...
(1) a great man there was a great man so great he couldn't be criticised in the light who died ...
the two hands of me make inimical gestures that only long after betray the one tune though they have the ...
THE warder looks down at the mid hour of night, On the tombs that lie scatter'd below: The moon fills ...
I have put on my great coat it is cold. It is an outer garment. Coarse, woolen. Of unknown origin. ...
When I die I don't care what happens to my body throw ashes in the air, scatter 'em in East ...
I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern ...
Looking for epiphany moments rebirth, born again, anew in an instant of God's providence may be a wondrous, joyous pristine ...
There were only a few of them In all the earth Each one thought he was alone They sang, they ...
Glassmakers, at century's end, compounded metallic lusters in reference to natural sheens (dragonfly and beetle wings, marbled light on kerosene) ...
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, ...
We, the living, buried deep in selfish grief strive to comprehend the passing of your hour, minds are numbed, aghast ...
Behind faces and gestures We remain mute And spoken words heavy With what we ignore or keep silent Betray us ...
I love the church: its labara, its silver vessels, its candleholders, the lights, the ikons, the pulpit. Whenever I go ...
I stood upon a highway, And, behold, there came Many strange peddlers. To me each one made gestures, Holding forth ...
When a people reach the top of a hill, Then does God lean toward them, Shortens tongues and lengthens arms. ...
How agreeable it is not to be touring Italy this summer, wandering her cities and ascending her torrid hilltowns. How ...
I see a woman any woman making up and change first she is thinking of something else (because when a ...
I watch the man bend over his patch, a fat gunny sack at his feet. He combs the earth with ...
Behind faces and gestures We remain mute And spoken words heavy With what we ignore or keep silent Betray us ...
Always for the first time Hardly do I know you by sight You return at some hour of the night ...
ANDROMACHE, I think of you! The stream, The poor, sad mirror where in bygone days Shone all the majesty of ...
'Number four-the girl who died on the table- The girl with golden hair-' The purpling body lies on the polished ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
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