Prison Song (Alan Dugan Poems)
The skin ripples over my body like moon-wooed water, rearing to escape me. Where could it find another animal as ...
The skin ripples over my body like moon-wooed water, rearing to escape me. Where could it find another animal as ...
There'll be no one in the houseSave for twilight. All alone,Winter's day seen in the space that'sMade by curtains left ...
The Rav of Northern White Russia declined, in his youth, to learn the language of birds, because the extraneous did ...
My mother would be a falconress, And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist, would fly to bring back from ...
Over and back, the long waves crawl and track the sand with foam; night darkens, and the sea takes on ...
Warm rain and soft breeze by turns Have just broken And driven away the chill. Moist as the pussy willows, ...
It's not that the Muse feels like clamming up, it's more like high time for the lad's last nap. And ...
It's not that the Muse feels like clamming up, it's more like high time for the lad's last nap. And ...
I am the little man who smokes & smokes. I am the girl who does know better but. I am ...
Little Cowboy, what have you heard, Up on the lonely rath's green mound? Only the plaintive yellow bird Sighing in ...
AGAINST THE GRAIN "Oxford be silent, I this truth must write Leeds hath for rarities undone thee quite." - William ...
When once the twilight locks no longer Locked in the long worm of my finger Nor damned the sea that ...
Because there was no other place to flee to, I came back to the scene of the disordered senses, came ...
You said the anger would come back just as the love did. I have a black look I do not ...
Live or die, but don't poison everything... Well, death's been here for a long time -- it has a hell ...
Divorced, but friends again at last, we walk old ground together in bright blue uncomplicated weather. We laugh and pause ...
1. The dark socket of the year the pit, the cave where the sun lies down and threatens never to ...
He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark, And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey, Legless, sewn short ...
Unspeakable. The word that fills up the poem, that the head tries to excise. At 6 a.m., the wet lion. ...
Speaking of marvels, I am alive together with you, when I might have been alive with anyone under the sun, ...
A millionbillionwillion miles from home Waiting for the bell to go. (To go where?) Why are they all so big, ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories