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#The Complete Poems
llovelymoonn · 1 year
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on november
nina maclaughlin the paris review: "on the first of november, the ghosts arrive" \\ emily dickinson in a letter to elizabeth holland (early nov, 1865) (via @flowerytale) \\ anna akhmatova rosary \\ philip jenks colony collapse metaphor: "november" \\ robert frost the complete poems: "my november guest" \\ ellis nightingale (@ellisnightingale) \\ @honeytuesday \\ nina maclaughlin the paris review: "the dark feels different in november" \\ l.m. montgomery anne of green gables \\ maggie stiefvater the scorpio races (via @metamorphesque) \\ sylvia plath the unabridged journals of sylvia plath (via @louisegluck)
kofi
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strykerlancer · 8 days
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— Marina Tsvetaeva, from “The Complete Poems.”
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daweyt · 7 months
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Anne Sexton, from “The Complete Poems; ‘Suicide Note’”, originally published c. 1999.
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tamsoj · 10 months
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Anne Sexton, "For John, Who Begs Me Not to Enquire Further," The Complete Poems
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"I am delicate. You’ve been gone. / The losing has hurt me some, yet / I must bend for you. See me arch. I’m turned on." - Anne Sexton, from The Complete Poems; “Eighteen Days Without You,
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williammoll · 2 years
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Emily Dickinson. 1121. The Complete Poems. [24]
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beljar · 2 years
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Only my books anoint me, and a few friends, those who reach into my veins.
Anne Sexton, The Complete Poems, 1999
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rains-of-words · 1 year
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Watch out for intellect, because it knows so much it knows nothing and leaves you hanging upside down, mouthing knowledge as your heart falls out of your mouth.
Anne Sexton, The Complete Poems
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anxsity · 10 months
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Anne Sexton, "Killing the Love" from The Complete Poems
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llovelymoonn · 3 months
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favourite poems of january
christian wiman hard night: "the ice storm"
timothy donnelly hymn to life
randall jarrell the complete poems: "the lost world"
dana levin the living teaching
stuart dybeck brass knuckles: "the knife-sharpener's daughter"
kofi awoonor the promise of hope: new and selected poems: "lament of the silent sisters"
bruce snider ode to a dolly parton drag queen
jon pineda birthmark: "translation"
brenda shaughnessy interior with sudden joy: "dear gonglya"
franny choi hangul abecedarian
atsuro riley hutch
clark moore strikes and gutters
jenny xie eye level: "rootless"
alberto ríos the smallest muscle in the human body: "rabbits and fire"
tim seibles mosaic
anthony hecht an offering for patricia
harry matthews cool gales shall fan the glades
robert glück the word in us: lesbian and gay poetry of the next wave: "burroughs"
albert goldbarth the poem of the little house at the corner of misapprehension and marvel
george seferis collected poems (george seferis): "spring a.d."
alberto ríos a small story about the sky
sharmila voorakkara for the tattooed man
robin blaser the holy forest: collected poems of robin blaser: "the truth is laughter 10"
robert pinsky gulf music: "antique"
henri cole blackbird and wolf: "twilight"
paul violi likewise: "in praise of idleness"
ron padgett collected poems: "what are you on?"
meena alexander birthplace with buried stones: "lychees"
sara borjas decolonial self-portrait
valerie martínez absence, luminescent: "the reliquaries"
kathryn simmonds the visitations: "in the woods"
kofi
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indecisivegloom · 1 year
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whisperthatruns · 7 months
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90 North
At home, in my flannel gown, like a bear to its floe, I clambered to bed; up the globe's impossible sides I sailed all night---till at last, with my black beard, My furs and my dogs, I stood at the northern pole. There in the childish night my companions lay frozen, The stiff furs knocked at my starveling throat, And I gave my great sigh: the flakes came huddling, Were they really my end? In the darkness I turned to my rest. ---Here, the flag snaps in the glare and silence Of the unbroken ice. I stand here, The dogs bark, my beard is black, and I stare At the North Pole... And now what? Why, go back. Turn as I please, my step is to the south. The world---my world spins on this final point Of cold and wretchedness: all lines, all winds End in this whirlpool I at last discover. And it is meaningless. In the child's bed After the night's voyage, in that warm world Where people work and suffer for the end That crowns the pain---in that Cloud-Cuckoo-Land I reached my North and it had meaning. Here at the actual pole of my existence, Where all that I have done is meaningless, Where I die or live by accident alone--- Where, living or dying, I am still alone; Here where North, the night, the berg of death Crowd me out of the ignorant darkness, I see at last that all the knowledge I wrung from the darkness---that the darkness flung me--- Is worthless as ignorance: nothing comes from nothing, The darkness from the darkness. Pain comes from the darkness And we call it wisdom. It is pain.
Randall Jarrell, The Complete Poems (1981)
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"You will hear thunder and remember me, And think: she wanted storms. The rim Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson, And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire."
― Anna Akhmatova
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The complete poems of Emily Dickinson
Edited by Thomas H. Johnson
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books-in-media · 1 year
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Troian Bellisario, (Instagram, October 01, 2012)
—The Complete Poems, John Keats (1820)
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williammoll · 2 years
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Emily Dickinson. 1141. The Complete Poems. [25]
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