The Red Lacquer Music-Stand (Amy Lowell Poem)
A music-stand of crimson lacquer, long since brought In some fast clipper-ship from China, quaintly wrought With bossed and carven ...
A music-stand of crimson lacquer, long since brought In some fast clipper-ship from China, quaintly wrought With bossed and carven ...
Cross-hatchings of rain against grey walls, Slant lines of black rain In front of the up and down, wet stone ...
Jots of thoughts in my journal How does editing sound, Illegible words, random thoughts Scratching out the rhyme Fighting the ...
A poet's cat, sedate and grave As poet well could wish to have, Was much addicted to inquire For nooks ...
"MY First - but don't suppose," he said, "I'm setting you a riddle - Is - if your Victim be ...
Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line, The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum Superb above ...
"Ah, did you once see Shelley plain?" -- Browning. "Shelley? Oh, yes, I saw him often then," The old man ...
'Twas after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede - Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to ...
in the hospitals and jails it's the worst in madhouses it's the worst in penthouses it's the worst in skid ...
All profits disappear: the gain Of ease, the hoarded, secret sum; And now grim digits of old pain Return to ...
A Poem for Three Voices Setting: A Maternity Ward and round about FIRST VOICE: I am slow as the world. ...
We have all of us read how the Israelites fled From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em, And ...
Frost apple on a knotted whirling bough of dark becoming where it cannot be. So much both for the soil ...
In memory of Dimitri Mitropoulos The harpist believes there is music in the skeletons of fish The French horn player ...
After two sittings, now our Lady State To end her picture does the third time wait. But ere thou fall'st ...
Why are you running so fast hither and thither Chasing midges or butterflies? Some of you are standing solemnly scratching ...
I. My face resembles your face less and less each day. When I was young no one mistook whose child ...
by Sharmagne Leland-St.John There were dry red days Devoid of clouds Devoid of breeze Sound bruised My burning bones Dirt ...
Words are like days: coloring books or pickpockets, signposts or scratching posts, fakirs over hot coals. Certain words must be ...
In borrowed boots which don't fit and an old olive greatcoat, I hunt the corn-fed rabbit, game fowl, squirrel, starved ...
The stone says "Coors" The gay carpet says "Camels" Spears of dried grass The little sticks the children gathered The ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories