Anatomy of a leap into the void

A
A. Use of the lift
going up
is permitted, provided

B. Use of the lift
going down
is not permitted, provided

C. Use of the lift
going up is

D. Use of the lift
going down is not

E. Use of the lift
going up

F. Use of the lift
going

G. Use of the lift

H. IsIs not

I. Use

J. U--
56
Rating:

Comment form:

*Max text - 500. Manual moderation.

Similar Poems:

A Bird in the House by Robin Blaser
Robin Blaser
the truth flies hungry, at least and otherous,
of which—though it may be one—Kafka said troublingly,
it has many faces

it’s
the faces one wants, tripping the light shadows of its
skin colours of its wordy swiftness, angry and solvent,
of its loud remarks

as of feeding flocks one
Read Poem
0
41
Rating:

War Girls by Jessie Pope
Jessie Pope
There's the girl who clips your ticket for the train,
And the girl who speeds the lift from floor to floor,
There's the girl who does a milk-round in the rain,
And the girl who calls for orders at your door.
Strong, sensible, and fit,
They're out to show their grit,
And tackle jobs with energy and knack.
No longer caged and penned up,
They're going to keep their end up
Till the khaki soldier boys come marching back.

There's the motor girl who drives a heavy van,
There's the butcher girl who brings your joint of meat,
There's the girl who cries 'All fares, please!' like a man,
And the girl who whistles taxis up the street.
Read Poem
0
42
Rating:

The Long Hill by Sara Teasdale
Sara Teasdale
I must have passed the crest a while ago
And now I am going down.
Strange to have crossed the crest and not to know—
But the brambles were always catching the hem of my gown.

All the morning I thought how proud it would be
To stand there straight as a queen—
Wrapped in the wind and the sun, with the world under me.
But the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.

It was nearly level along the beaten track
And the brambles caught in my gown—
But it’s no use now to think of turning back,
The rest of the way will be only going down.

Read Poem
0
34
Rating:

Not Knowing Why by Ann Struthers
Ann Struthers
Adolescent white pelicans squawk, rustle, flap their wings,
lift off in a ragged spiral at imaginary danger.
What danger on this island in the middle
of Marble Lake? They’re off to feel
the lift of wind under their iridescent wings,
because they were born to fly,
because they have nothing else to do,
because wind and water are their elements,
their Bach, their Homer, Shakespeare,
and Spielberg. They wheel over the lake,
the little farms, the tourist village with their camera eyes.

In autumn something urges
them toward Texas marshes. They follow
their appetites and instincts, unlike the small beetles
Read Poem
0
39
Rating:

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, (340) by Emily Dickinson
Emily Dickinson
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading - till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through -

And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum -
Kept beating - beating - till I thought
My mind was going numb -
Read Poem
0
43
Rating:

“I am the last . . .” by Charles Simic
Charles Simic
I am the last Napoleonic soldier. It’s almost two hundred years later and I am still retreating from Moscow. The road is lined with white birch trees and the mud comes up to my knees. The one-eyed woman wants to sell me a chicken, and I don’t even have any clothes on.
The Germans are going one way; I am going the other. The Russians are going still another way and waving good-by. I have a ceremonial saber. I use it to cut my hair, which is four feet long.
Read Poem
0
41
Rating:

Women by Louise Bogan
Louise Bogan
Women have no wilderness in them,
They are provident instead,
Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts
To eat dusty bread.

They do not see cattle cropping red winter grass,
They do not hear
Snow water going down under culverts
Shallow and clear.
Read Poem
0
41
Rating:

Gravelly Run by A. R. Ammons
A. R. Ammons
I don’t know somehow it seems sufficient
to see and hear whatever coming and going is,
losing the self to the victory
of stones and trees,
of bending sandpit lakes, crescent
round groves of dwarf pine:

for it is not so much to know the self
as to know it as it is known
Read Poem
0
53
Rating:

Light and Dark by Barbara Howes
Barbara Howes
Lady, take care; for in the diamond eyes
Of old old men is figured your undoing;
Love is turned in behind the wrinkled lids
To nurse their fear and scorn at their near going.
Flesh hangs like the curtains in a house
Long unused, damp as cellars without wine;
They are the future of us all, when we
Will be dried-leaf-thin, the sour whine
Read Poem
0
48
Rating: