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Tag Archives: American Poets
Whitman on writing
“The secret of it all, is to write in the gush, the throb, the flood, of the moment…to put things down without deliberation…without worrying about their style…without waiting for a fit time or place. I always worked that way. I … Continue reading
your one wild and precious life
Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean— the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, … Continue reading
At midnight, in the month of June
The Sleeper BY EDGAR ALLAN POE At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, Exhales from out her golden rim, And softly dripping, drop by drop, Upon the quiet mountain top, … Continue reading
the lie was the weapon and the plot was empty
“Either peace or happiness, let it enfold you. When I was a young man I felt these things were dumb, unsophisticated. I had bad blood, a twisted mind, a precarious upbringing. I was hard as granite, I leered at the … Continue reading
The Massacre of Innocents
THE MASSACRE OF THE INNOCENTS William Jay Smith (1946) Because I believe in the community of little children Because I have suffered such little children to be slain: I have gazed upon the sunlight, dazed, bewildered, As is a child … Continue reading
Calmly we walk through this April’s day
CALMLY WE WALK THROUGH THIS APRIL’S DAY Delmore Schwartz Calmly we walk through this April’s day, Metropolitan poetry here and there, In the park sit pauper and rentier, The screaming children, the motor-car Fugitive about us, running away, Between the worker … Continue reading
Be angry at the sun for setting
BE ANGRY AT THE SUN Robinson Jeffers That public men publish falsehoods Is nothing new. That America must accept Like the historical republics corruption and empire Has been known for years. Be angry at the sun for setting If these … Continue reading
forever making poems in the lap of death
Humanity I Love You Humanity i love you because you would rather black the boots of success than enquire whose soul dangles from his watch-chain which would be embarrassing for both parties and because you unflinchingly applaud all songs containing … Continue reading
Who remembers that famous day and year
On this day in 1807, the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in Portland, Maine. During his lifetime, Longfellow’s poetry enjoyed extraordinary popularity at home and abroad. Many of his poems served as standard recitation pieces in American schools well … Continue reading
