All Distance (Erin Belieu Poem)
Writing from Boston, where sky is simply property, a flourish topping crowds of condos and historic real estate, I'm trying ...
Writing from Boston, where sky is simply property, a flourish topping crowds of condos and historic real estate, I'm trying ...
It's not that the Muse feels like clamming up, it's more like high time for the lad's last nap. And ...
As though the mercury's under its tongue, it won't talk. As though with the mercury in its sphincter, immobile, by ...
It's not that the Muse feels like clamming up, it's more like high time for the lad's last nap. And ...
Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June, Dawdling away their wat'ry noon) Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear, Each secret fishy ...
Straw sandal half sunk in an old pond in the sleety snow. (Yosa Buson)
ANOTHER METHOD OF MAKING WALNUT CATSUP And this is a very small cookbook for Trout Fishing in America as if ...
Following are several translations of the 'Old Pond' poem, which may be the most famous of all haiku: Furuike ya ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
I. My heart sank with our Claret-flask, Just now, beneath the heavy sedges That serve this Pond's black face for ...
I. The morn when first it thunders in March, The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say: As ...
I. How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn-evenings come: And where, my soul, ...
EDINA! Scotia's darling seat! All hail thy palaces and tow'rs, Where once, beneath a Monarch's feet, Sat Legislation's sov'reign pow'rs: ...
Alone on the railroad track I walked with pounding heart. The ties were too close together or maybe too far ...
Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops, Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass. A flock of ...
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as ...
Four ducks on a pond, A grass-bank beyond, A blue sky of spring, White clouds on the wing; What a ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
I The bitterness. the misery, the wretchedness of childhood Put me out of love with God. I can't believe in ...
Long ago in a poultry yard One dull November morn, Beneath a motherly soft wing A little goose was born. ...
and the sun weilds mercy but like a jet torch carried to high, and the jets whip across its sight ...
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