Dream Death (Margaret Widdemer Poems)
WHAT though no folk who saw her knew At heart she was Pierrette,Who went her sober wayIn robe and face of ...
WHAT though no folk who saw her knew At heart she was Pierrette,Who went her sober wayIn robe and face of ...
We are some disjointed guitars.When the wind blows throughdiscordant lines and sounds awakenin the chainlike strings that dangle.We are some ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
You speak to me of narcissism but I reply that it is a matter of my life - Artaud"At this ...
ON the Sabbath-day, Through the churchyard old and gray, Over the crisp and yellow leaves I held my rustling ...
WITH oaken staff and swinging lantern bright, He strolls at midnight when the world is still Through dismal lanes and ...
Sun of autumn, thin and shyAnd fruit drops off the trees,Blue silence fills the peaceOf a tardy afternoon's sky.Death knells ...
Down on the Plaza they are dancing,Tapping pointed heels, clicking castanets,Oh, Don Carlos, they are dancingIn the darkness deeper than ...
On yardbird corners of embryonic hopes, drowned in a heroin tear. On yardbird corners of parkerflights to sound filled pockets ...
Listening to their harmonies, the blending of their voices really listening, feeling their songs pulled me back to other nights ...
The violin sang over the hum, the rumble the guitars by her side They held the rhythm oh, but she ...
Absorbed in familiar rhythms, carillon of senses steeped in good vibrations, surrounded by musical beat pulsing potently in avidly articulated ...
the goldfish sing all night with guitars, and the whores go down with the stars, the whores go down with ...
'TWAS 1 in that place o' Scotland's isle, That bears the name o' auld King Coil, Upon a bonie day ...
There were still shards of an ancient pastoral in those shires of the island where the cattle drank their pools ...
1 PROUD music of the storm! Blast that careers so free, whistling across the prairies! Strong hum of forest tree-tops! ...
The sky, lazily disdaining to pursue The setting sun, too indolent to hold A lengthened tournament for flashing gold, Passively ...
"You speak to me of narcissism but I reply that it is a matter of my life" - Artaud "At ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
THE SINS of Kalamazoo are neither scarlet nor crimson. The sins of Kalamazoo are a convict gray, a dishwater drab. ...
I DRANK musty ale at the Illinois Athletic Club with the millionaire manufacturer of Green River butter one night And ...
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