Our Whole Life (Adrienne Rich Poems)
Our whole life a translation the permissible fibs and now a knot of lies eating at itself to get undone ...
Our whole life a translation the permissible fibs and now a knot of lies eating at itself to get undone ...
Stripped you're beginning to float free up through the smoke of brushfires and incinerators the unleafed branches won't hold you ...
Miracle's truck comes down the little avenue, Scott Joplin ragtime strewn behind it like pearls, and, yes, you can feel ...
The world's not wanton only wild and wavering I wanted to choose words that even you would have to be ...
In those years, people will say, we lost track of the meaning of we, of you we found ourselves reduced ...
My mouth hovers across your breasts in the short grey winter afternoon in this bed we are delicate and touch ...
Either you will go through this door or you will not go through. If you go through there is always ...
The autumn feels slowed down, summer still holds on here, even the light seems to last longer than it should ...
Something spreading underground won't speak to us under skin won't declare itself not all life-forms want dialogue with the machine-gods ...
We can look into the stove tonight as into a mirror, yes, the serrated log, the yellow-blue gaseous core the ...
I dreamed I called you on the telephone to say: Be kinder to yourself but you were sick and would ...
1. A conversation begins with a lie. and each speaker of the so-called common language feels the ice-floe split, the ...
Talking of poetry, hauling the books arm-full to the table where the heads bend or gaze upward, listening, reading aloud, ...
It will not be simple, it will not take long It will take little time, it will take all your ...
Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow, Next year and when I'm fifty; still good-by. This is the leave ...
First having read the book of myths, and loaded the camera, and checked the edge of the knife-blade, I put ...
The pact that we made was the ordinary pact of men & women in those days I don't know who ...
Aunt Jennifer's tigers prance across a screen, Bright topaz denizens of a world of green. They do not fear the ...
Their life, collapsed like unplayed cards, is carried piecemeal through the snow; Headboard and footboard now, the bed where she ...
She had thought the studio would keep itself; no dust upon the furniture of love. Half heresy, to wish the ...
1. Sex, as they harshly call it, I fell into this morning at ten o'clock, a drizzling hour of traffic ...
1 You, once a belle in Shreveport, with henna-colored hair, skin like a peachbud, still have your dresses copied from ...
Far back when I went zig-zagging through tamarack pastures you were my genius, you my cast-iron Viking, my helmed lion-heart ...
My swirling wants. Your frozen lips. The grammar turned and attacked me. Themes, written under duress. Emptiness of the notations. ...
The clouds and the stars didn't wage this war the brooks gave no information if the mountain spewed stones of ...
I know you are reading this poem late, before leaving your office of the one intense yellow lamp-spot and the ...
Thinking of Caroline Herschel (1750-1848), astronomer, sister of William; and others. A woman in the shape of a monster a ...
Living in the earth-deposits of our history Today a backhoe divulged out of a crumbling flank of earth one bottle ...
This is the grass your feet are planted on. You paint it orange or you sing it green, But you ...
the quality of being complete; unbroken condition; entirety ~ Webster A wild patience has taken me this far as if ...
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