1673 15 13
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Poets who thrum jirble and thwack
Poets who thrum eat quorn with raw swamms
Poets who thrum are eristic (not shambolic)
Poets who thrum deliciate unto kench when they freck
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107897
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a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single
ticket
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12198
|
When the water came crashing
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121198
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"Sara, do you taketh it with your eyes?"
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100
|
the eye can bloom further and must
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116544
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I chose coming away because here at least I feel good — and it makes me feel I am growing very tall and straight inside — and very still — Maybe you will not love me for it — but for me it seems to be the best…
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8211
|
the eye can bloom further and must
|
128099
|
Our Irish tradition is rich in Yeats, drenched in Bushmills.
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2502216
|
Paint my face Yemeni, my neck South Sudanese,
my torso Syrian, Jordanian and Palestinian
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8956
|
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195464
|
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124353
|
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12401610
|
Shadows are so admirable in film noir
less so on x-rays and mammograms
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127095
|
Beneath the rise and murmur of your voicethere lies a hush more rapid than the silence meets within your eyes; the ghosts of cloudfall also meet them there. Your tongue has murmurs more than I can hear just now, for here my ears are met with something…
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15891813
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—Was it true, what you wrote in that poem?
—Pretty true.
—What do you mean “pretty true”? Was it true or wasn’t it?
—It was as close as you get to truth in poems.
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