Naomi Shihab Nye, “Sifter.” A Maze Me: Poems for Girls
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everything u need to know about me can actually be explained by the fact that i read that poem about the serving girl wearing the pearls so they're warm for her mistress when i was like 11 and it rewrote my brain chemistry forever
like this Changed Me
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[original : untitled]
you come so quickly
when my lips are on the doorbell,
a snake in the walls;
reaching your peak
the way grass dies
as if healthy habits are myths
and you can paint the world with lies.
sinister blue eyes
replicating a haven of chaos;
my breathing heart beating
to the rhythm of loss.
tell me if i am so unwelcome
even if disasters like you
are all i have ever loved.
punctuating every line
because you left them a mess,
reminding myself that this is a man’s world
while i remain unanswered -
unsatisfied, needy, and shallow
over a man who lets his world wither.
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Emily Dickinson, from Poem #1320 ("Dear March--Come in--"), The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson [ID'd]
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Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova: Reed; from ‘The Sentence’, tr. Judith Hemschemeyer
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someone once told me
there is no demon more frightening
than a good man
who has gone to war.
someone once told me
the only things we get to choose
are a hero's death
or a villain's life.
so they said.
so they said.
so they say.
but no one ever told me
what happens when a good man
goes to war
and becomes the demon.
but no one ever told me
you can die a hero
and be resurrected
to a villain's afterlife.
- by sylvie (j.p.)
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Langston Hughes, “Litany.” Selected poems of Langston Hughes
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Anne Sexton, from The Complete Poems of Anne Sexton; "Hornet,"
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Him and I.
the love i give, the subject is you, the love i earn is always new.
for you are a story i never failed to read, a page in poetry that i never left empty.
oh it was you holding my creed, and my heart too indeed.
if you must love, you must know,
if you must live, you must learn,
that i loved you still in present, and lived life like a crescent.
stirring behind shadows of feeling free,
from the intensity of what ur gaze seeked in me.
Will it, i hope to God. Will it, i kneel to God. if it isn't you, my fate, written for me,
then what is it, that my soul, is meant to be?
you stir me with love, you stir in me my self,
i return to you, with love, feeling above all else.
i promise you and im breaking you,
you promise to me and you're breaking me, too.
two beautiful broken glasses, fitting perfectly against each other,
stained with rather pains, but we still do not wither.
yearning to be in ur arms, forced to be in my thoughts,
born to comfort me, you say, yet we'd rather not say
what truly lies in our hearts,
for if it doesn't come true,
it'll break me and you.
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e.e. cummings, from “in time of daffodils(who know” (in 95 Poems), Complete Poems: 1904-1962
[Text ID: “In time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)”]
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Anna Akhmatova, The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova: White Flock; from ‘We will be together, darling, together…’, tr. Judith Hemschemeyer
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I hang my harp upon a tree,
A weeping willow in a lake;
(...)
Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart;
My silent heart, lie still and break:
Christina Rossetti, from Mirage in “The Complete Poems Of Christina Rossetti”
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