Distrust Appearances (C J Dennis Poems)
He came into the bird-shop where I stood -- A hulking giant, monumental, grim,A paragon of muscular manhood. "What is ...
He came into the bird-shop where I stood -- A hulking giant, monumental, grim,A paragon of muscular manhood. "What is ...
ALONG nerve and sinew doth old-age creep And it is time for sleep ; Not the deep dead sleep of ...
The summer season at Tyne DockHoisted my boyhood in a craneAbove the shaggy mining town,Above the slaghills and the rocks,Above ...
Here will be echoes in the mountains,The distant landslides' rumbling boom,The rocks, the dwellings in the village,The sorry little inn, ...
Steel doors - guillotine gates - of the doorless house closed massively. We were locked in with loss. Guards frisked ...
certain creatures it seems are never seen straight on - they occupy the corner of the eye once sensed (a ...
the day was as grey as the abbey the light that filtered through the glass had no disturbing shine about ...
A tremor, a quiver, a vibration a transfer of energy, of power an act of faith, of healing He sensed ...
The ruins of red brick and stone just above the surface of the loch walk down to the shore, by ...
When it was autumn in Eden and chestnuts held golden leaves against dimming light , Eve touched her toes on ...
We must have clamored for the same mother, hurried for the same womb. I know it now as I read ...
It happened by Bretton Wood (although that wasn't it's real name) and I recall a clear, grey dawn and the ...
A week before the Armistice, you died. They did not keep your heart like Livingstone's, then plant your bones near ...
In the secular night you wander around alone in your house. It's two-thirty. Everyone has deserted you, or this is ...
death wants more death, and its webs are full: I remember my father's garage, how child-like I would brush the ...
for Daniel Weissbort Some poems meant only for my eyes About a grief I can't let go But I want ...
"You speak to me of narcissism but I reply that it is a matter of my life" - Artaud "At ...
I grabbed the new Who's Who to see My name - but it was not. Said I: "The form they ...
His portrait hung upon the wall. Oh how at us he used to stare. Each Sunday when I made my ...
I made a picture; all my heart I put in it, and all I knew Of canvas-cunning and of Art, ...
If I could practise what I preach, Of fellows there would few be finer; If I were true to what ...
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