( Read more... )

THESE POEMS, SHE SAID
by Robert Bringhurst

These poems, these poems,
these poems, she said, are poems
with no love in them. These are the poems of a man
who would leave his wife and child because
they made noise in his study. These are the poems
of a man who would murder his mother to claim
the inheritance. These are the poems of a man
like Plato, she said ( Read more... )

Ode to a Nightingale
John Keats

1.
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,-
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of ( Read more... )

MAD GIRL'S LOVE SONG
by Sylvia Plath

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed ( Read more... )

Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.
T.S. ELIOT, Tradition and the Individual Talent.

A mí favor diré que lo escribí en 10 minutos, también diré que era para mi clase de Inglés -en la que sólo importa que las palabras estén correctamente escritas- y que, leído en voz alta, suena muy bien -tiene buen ritmo-.

THE WINDOW
I ( Read more... )