Someone, and no matter who, inhabits my head like it’s an empty house, he enters, he leaves, he bangs each door behind him, powerless I put up with this ruckus. Someone, and maybe it’s me, palms my most private thoughts, he crumples them, returns them to dust. Someone, and it’s much later now, slowly walks across the room and, not seeing me, stops to contemplate the havoc. Someone, and no matter where, collects the pieces of my shadow.
Someone, and no matter
S
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The Uncreating Chaos by Stephen Spender

(Double Portrait in a Mirror)
I
To the meeting despair of eyes in the street, offer
Your eyes on plates and your liver on skewers of pity.
When the Jericho sky is heaped with clouds which the sun
Trumpets above, respond to Apocalypse
With a headache. In spirit follow
The young men to the war, up Everest. Be shot.
Read Poem To the meeting despair of eyes in the street, offer
Your eyes on plates and your liver on skewers of pity.
When the Jericho sky is heaped with clouds which the sun
Trumpets above, respond to Apocalypse
With a headache. In spirit follow
The young men to the war, up Everest. Be shot.
0
One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII by Pablo Neruda

I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz,
or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
from the earth lives dimly in my body.
Read Poem or arrow of carnations that propagate fire:
I love you as one loves certain obscure things,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries
the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself,
and thanks to your love the tight aroma that arose
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0
Fable of the Ant and the Word by Mary Barnard

Ink-black, but moving independently
across the black and white parquet of print,
the ant cancels the author out. The page,
translated to itself, bears hair-like legs
disturbing the fine hairs of its fiber.
These are the feet of summer, pillaging meaning,
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laying waste all languages, until, thinly,
Read Poem across the black and white parquet of print,
the ant cancels the author out. The page,
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Psalm 114 by Isaac Watts

Miracles Attending Israel’s Journey When Isr’el, freed from Pharaoh’s hand,
Left the proud tyrant and his land,
The tribes with cheerful homage own
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Read Poem Left the proud tyrant and his land,
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Fawn by Mary Barnard

Out of a high meadow where flowers
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pursue me with reasons for smiling without malice.
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Read Poem bloom above cloud, come down;
pursue me with reasons for smiling without malice.
Bring mimic pride like that of the seedling fir,
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Love Song No. 3 by Sonia Sanchez

1.
i'm crazy bout that chile but she gotta go.
she don't pay me no mind no mo. guess her
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mine so long. she been my heart so long
now she breakin it wid her bad habits.
always runnin like a machine out of control;
Read Poem i'm crazy bout that chile but she gotta go.
she don't pay me no mind no mo. guess her
mama was right to put her out cuz she
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mine so long. she been my heart so long
now she breakin it wid her bad habits.
always runnin like a machine out of control;
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Are you content, you pretty three-years’ wife?
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Read Poem Are you content and satisfied to live
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It lies not in our power to love or hate,
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When two are stripped, long ere the course begin,
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Read Poem For will in us is overruled by fate.
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And this is what is left of youth! . . .
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"How can I keep my maidenhead" by Robert Burns

How can I keep my maidenhead,
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The Captain bad a guinea for’t,
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(On the Signing of the Armistice, 11 Nov. 1918)
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Read Poem I
There had been years of Passion—scorching, cold,
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Read Poem The turtle burst and its teeming waters poured out
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The Life of Lincoln West by Gwendolyn Brooks

Ugliest little boy
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Traveler, your footprints
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Read Poem are the only road, nothing else.
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Meeting Point by Louis MacNeice

Time was away and somewhere else,
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Winter: A Dirge by Robert Burns

The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
Or, the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
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The sweeping blast, the sky o’ercast,
The joyless winter-day,
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My griefs it seems to join;
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Or, the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.
The sweeping blast, the sky o’ercast,
The joyless winter-day,
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A Ballad of Death by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Kneel down, fair Love, and fill thyself with tears,
Girdle thyself with sighing for a girth
Upon the sides of mirth,
Cover thy lips and eyelids, let thine ears
Be filled with rumour of people sorrowing;
Make thee soft raiment out of woven sighs
Upon the flesh to cleave,
Set pains therein and many a grievous thing,
And many sorrows after each his wise
For armlet and for gorget and for sleeve.
O Love's lute heard about the lands of death,
Left hanged upon the trees that were therein;
O Love and Time and Sin,
Three singing mouths that mourn now underbreath,
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Cover thy lips and eyelids, let thine ears
Be filled with rumour of people sorrowing;
Make thee soft raiment out of woven sighs
Upon the flesh to cleave,
Set pains therein and many a grievous thing,
And many sorrows after each his wise
For armlet and for gorget and for sleeve.
O Love's lute heard about the lands of death,
Left hanged upon the trees that were therein;
O Love and Time and Sin,
Three singing mouths that mourn now underbreath,
0
The Alchemist by Louise Bogan

I burned my life, that I might find
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Thought divorced from eye and bone,
Ecstasy come to breath alone.
I broke my life, to seek relief
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Charred existence and desire.
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0
Byzantium by William Butler Yeats

The unpurged images of day recede;
The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed;
Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song
After great cathedral gong;
A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains
All that man is,
All mere complexities,
The fury and the mire of human veins.
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0
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