We are Transmitters (David Herbert Lawrence Poems)
As we live, we are transmitters of life. And when we fail to transmit life, life fails to flow through ...
As we live, we are transmitters of life. And when we fail to transmit life, life fails to flow through ...
My love looks like a girl to-night, But she is old. The plaits that lie along her pillow Are not ...
Many years have I still to burn, detained Like a candle flame on this body; but I enshine A darkness ...
People were bathing and posturing themselves on the beach, and all was dreary, great robot limbs, robot breasts, robot voices, ...
A big bud of moon hangs out of the twilight, Star-spiders spinning their thread Hang high suspended, withouten respite Watching ...
Not every man has gentians in his house in Soft September, at slow, Sad Michaelmas. Bavarian gentians, big and dark, ...
Out of the darkness, fretted sometimes in its sleeping, Jets of sparks in fountains of blue come leaping To sight, ...
At the open door of the room I stand and look at the night, Hold my hand to catch the ...
Yours is the shame and sorrow, But the disgrace is mine; Your love was dark and thorough, Mine was the ...
I wonder, can the night go by; Can this shot arrow of travel fly Shaft-golden with light, sheer into the ...
I WONDER if with you, as it is with me, If under your slipping words, that easily flow About you ...
The earth again like a ship steams out of the dark sea over The edge of the blue, and the ...
Oh the green glimmer of apples in the orchard, Lamps in a wash of rain! Oh the wet walk of ...
My little love, my darling, You were a doorway to me; You let me out of the confines Into this ...
Since you did depart Out of my reach, my darling, Into the hidden, I see each shadow start With recognition, ...
On he goes, the little one, Bud of the universe, Pediment of life. Setting off somewhere, apparently. Whither away, brisk ...
A yellow leaf from the darkness Hops like a frog before me. Why should I start and stand still? I ...
When she rises in the morning I linger to watch her; She spreads the bath-cloth underneath the window And the ...
How many times, like lotus lilies risen Upon the surface of a river, there Have risen floating on my blood ...
Her tawny eyes are onyx of thoughtlessness, Hardened they are like gems in ancient modesty; Yea, and her mouth's prudent ...
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