#AmericanWriters
When I looked into your eyes, I saw a garden With peonies, and tinkling pagodas… And round-arched bridges Over still lakes.
Pale, with the blue of high zenith… In smooth, running patterns, a sof… Warm from a woman’s soft shoulders… Where is she, the woman who wore i… A languor, fire-shotted, runs thro…
What torture lurks within a single… When grown too constant; and howev… However welcome still, the weary m… Aches with its presence. Dull rem… Remembers on unceasingly; unsought
A flickering glimmer through a win… A dim red glare through mud bespat… Cleaving a path between blown wall… Across uneven pavements sunk in sl… To scatter and then quench itself…
Have at you, you Devils! My back’s to this tree, For you’re nothing so nice That the hind-side of me Would escape your assault.
The Fool Errant sat by the highwa… And his gaze wandered up and his g… A vigorous youth, but with no wish… Yet his longing was great for the… He whistled a little frivolous tun…
What instinct forces man to journe… Urged by a longing blind but domin… Nothing he sees can hold him, noth… His never failing eagerness. The… Setting in splendour every night h…
Panels of claret and blue which sh… Under the moon like lees of wine. A coronet done in a golden scroll, And wheels which blunder and creak… Through the muddy ruts of a moorla…
The neighbour sits in his window a… From my bed I can hear him, And the round notes flutter and ta… And hit against each other, Blurring to unexpected chords.
Before me lies a mass of shapeless… Unseparated atoms, and I must Sort them apart and live them. Si… Covers the formless heap. Repriev… There are none, ever. As a monk w…
My cup is empty to-night, Cold and dry are its sides, Chilled by the wind from the open… Empty and void, it sparkles white… The room is filled with the strang…
My heart is like a cleft pomegrana… Bleeding crimson seeds And dripping them on the ground. My heart gapes because it is ripe… And its seeds are bursting from it…
I wandered through a house of many… It grew darker and darker, Until, at last, I could only find… By passing my fingers along the wa… Suddenly my hand shot through an o…
Red slippers in a shop-window, and outside in the street, flaws of grey, windy sleet! Behind the polished glass, the slippers hang in long threads of red, festooning from the ceili...
Send sunflowers! With my turkey-bone whistle I am calling the birds To sing upon the sunflowers. For when the clouds hear them sing…