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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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Prometheus On His Crag Had such an advantageous prospect He could see, even as he slept, The aeons revolving. He could see, centre of every aeon, Like the grit in its pearl, Himself sealed on his rock. Between the aeons - dark nothing. But he could see Himself wading escaping through dark nothing From aeon to aeon, prophesying Freedom - It was his soul’s sleepwalking and he dreamed it. Only waking when the vulture woke him Into a new aeon                                to the old chains                                                               and the old agony.
Ted Hughes, Prometheus On His Crag
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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tales from ovid, ted hudges
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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Flowerlike, I loved nothing.
Ted Hughes, Mayday on Holderness
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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Love struck into his life / Like a hawk into a dovecote.
Ted Hughes, The Dove Breeder
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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He gripped her hard so that life Should not drag her from that moment He wanted all future to cease He wanted to topple with his arms round her Off that moment’s brink and into nothing
Ted Hughes, Lovesong
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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My own affable familiar ghost has been absent for some time—
Ted Hughes, from ‘Letters of Ted Hughes’; Esther and Leonard Baskin, late January 1962 (via deranged-rhythms)
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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Spain was what you tried to wake up from And could not. I see you, in moonlight, Walking the empty wharf at Alicante Like a soul waiting for the ferry, A new soul, still not understanding, Thinking it is still your honeymoon In the happy world, with your whole life waiting, Happy, and all your poems still to be found.
Ted Hughes, You Hated Spain
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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“Flowerlike, I loved nothing.” - Ted Hughes, Mayday on Holderness
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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“What happens in the heart simply happens.” - Ted Hughes, Child’s Park
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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“That night was nothing but getting to know how smooth your body is. The memory of it goes through me like brandy.” - Ted Hughes
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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“It is midsummer: the leaves hang big and still: Behind the eye a star, Under the silk of the wrist a sea, tell Time is nowhere.” - Ted Hughes, September
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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I am not composing poetry. I am trying to get out of the flames.
Ted Hughes, from an uncompleted poem dated May 1969, featured in Letters of Ted Hughes (via existential-celestial)
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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The moon has stepped back like an artist gazing amazed at a work / That points at him amazed.
Ted Hughes, from The Collected Poems; “Full Moon and Little Frieda,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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Nibelung wolves barbed like black pineforest / Against a red sky, over blue snow;
Ted Hughes, February
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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Ted Hughes, Collected Poems: Uncollected (1960-67); from ‘Bad News Good!’
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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“I wrestled with the blankets, the caul and the cord, and you stayed with me.” - Ted Hughes, Error
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tedhughesroosting · 4 years
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Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, / Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
Ted Hughes, Wind
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