circles

2 Flies

The flies are angry bits of life;
why are they so angry?
it seems they want more,
it seems almost as if they
are angry
that they are flies;
it is not my fault;
I sit in the room
with them
and they taunt me
with their agony;
it is as if they were
loose chunks of soul
left out of somewhere;
I...
Read More

All your sorrow, Louise, and hatred of me
Sprang from your delusion that it was wantonness
Of spirit and contempt of your souls rights
Which made me turn to Annabelle and forsake you.
You really grew to hate me for love of me,
Because I was your souls happiness,
Formed and tempered
To solve your life for you, and would not.
But you were my...
Read More

A slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears:
She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.

No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees;
Rolled round in earth's diurnal course,
With rocks, and stones, and trees.

-William Wordsworth

Note: The original poem appears slightly different, with the 2nd, 4th, 6th and 8th lines...
Read More

The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it...
Read More

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just...
Read More

Time drops in decay,
Like a candle burnt out,
And the mountains and woods
Have their day, have their day;
What one in the rout
Of the fire-born moods,
Has fallen away?

The Moods by William Butler Yeats

WHILE Anna's peers and early playmates tread,
In freedom, mountain-turf and river's marge;
Or float with music in the festal barge;
Rein the proud steed, or through the dance are led;
Her doom it is to press a weary bed--
Till oft her guardian Angel, to some charge
More urgent called, will stretch his wings at large,
And friends too rarely prop the languid head....
Read More

ALONE, remote, nor witting where I went,
I found an altar builded in a dream
A fiery place, whereof there was a gleam
So swift, so searching, and so eloquent
Of upward promise, that loves murmur, blent
With sorrows warning, gave but a supreme
Unending impulse to that human stream
Whose flood was all for the flames fury bent.

Alas! I said,the world is in...
Read More

NOT, Ill not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwistslack they may bethese last strands of man
In me r, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on me
Thy wring-world right foot rock? lay a lionlimb against me? scan...
Read More

AS kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies drw flme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bells
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selvesgoes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Wht I do is me: for...
Read More