#EnglishWriters
Sometimes you hear, fifth-hand, As epitaph: He chucked up everything And just cleared off, And always the voice will sound
New eyes each year Find old books here, And new books, too, Old eyes renew; So youth and age
I saw three ships go sailing by, Over the sea, the lifting sea, And the wind rose in the morning s… And one was rigged for a long jour… The first ship turned towards the…
Caught in the center of a soundles… While hot inexplicable hours go by What trap is this? Where were its… You seem to ask. I make a sharp reply,
Once I am sure there’s nothing go… I step inside, letting the door th… Another church: matting, seats, an… And little books; sprawlings of fl… For Sunday, brownish now; some br…
The little lives of earth and form… Of finding food, and keeping warm, Are not like ours, and yet A kinship lingers nonetheless: We hanker for the homeliness
Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can’t I use my wit as a pitchfork And drive the brute off? Six days of the week it soils
Walking around in the park Should feel better than work: The lake, the sunshine, The grass to lie on, Blurred playground noises
If grief could burn out Like a sunken coal The heart would rest quiet The unrent soul Be as still as a veil
Rain patters on a sea that tilts a… Fast-running floors, collapsing in… Tower suddenly, spray-haired. Con… A wave drops like a wall: another… Wilting and scrambling, tirelessly…
When I see a couple of kids And guess he’s fucking her and she… Taking pills or wearing a diaphrag… I know this is paradise Everyone old has dreamed of all th…
Once I believed in you, And then you came, Unquestionably new, as fame Had said you were. But that was l… You launched no argument,
Green-shadowed people sit, or walk… Their children finger the awakened… Calmly a cloud stands, calmly a bi… And, flashing like a dangled-looki… Sun lights the balls that bounce,…
Words as plain as hen—birds’ wings Do not lie, Do not over—broider things — Are too shy. Thoughts that shuffle round like p…
Always too eager for the future, w… Pick up bad habits of expectancy. Something is always approaching; e… Till then we say, Watching from a bluff the tiny, cl…