
Looking into History By Richard Wilbur - Giggle Poems
I try Like orphaned Hamlet working up his grief To see my spellbound fathers in these men Who, breathless in their amber atmosphere, Show but the post ...
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I try Like orphaned Hamlet working up his grief To see my spellbound fathers in these men Who, breathless in their amber atmosphere, Show but the post ...
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Ask us, ask us whether with the worldless rose Our hearts shall fail us; come demanding Whether there shall be lofty or long standing When the bronze ...
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I want to be free of poetry's ornaments, its duty, free of constant irritation, me in it, what was grander reason for being? ‘While frank and free/cal ...
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Then two young men, who cooked him, carry him to the table on a large square of plywood: his body striped, like a tiger cat’s, from the basting, his l ...
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Past the empty bins for squash, apples, carrots, and potatoes, we discover the shelves for canning, a few pale pints of tomato left, and—what is this? ...
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In the steamer is the trout??? seasoned with slivers of ginger, two sprigs of green onion, and sesame oil.??? We shall eat it with rice for lunch,??? ...
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As I sit here in the quiet Summer night, Suddenly, from the distant road, there comes The grind and rush of an electric car. Sitting here in the Summe ...
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I walk down the garden paths, And all the daffodils Are blowing, and the bright blue squills. I walk down the patterned garden paths In my stiff, broc ...
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Death, Meanwhile, in a strange Part of town looking for Someone with a bad cough, But the address is somehow wrong, Even death can’t figure it out Amo ...
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With only his dim lantern??? To tell him where he is And every time a mountain??? Of fresh corpses to load up Take them to the other side Where there ...
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The closet has been cleaned out Full-flush as surgeries where the hangers could be Amiable scalpels though they just as well would be Themselves, in b ...
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Going to sleep, I cross my hands on my chest.??? They will place my hands like this.??? It will look as though I am flying into myself.
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The ones his age who shook my hand on their way out sent fear along my arm like heroin.
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I hoped my batteries had eight more lives than the lost child. Reader, by now you must be sure you know just where we are, deep in symbolic woods. I’m ...
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They spend hours struggling, lifting, dragging (it is not grisly as it would be for us, to carry them back to be eaten), so that every part will be of ...
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Airport bus from JFK cruising through Queens passing huge endless cemetery??? by Long Island’s old expressway (once a dirt path for wheelless Indians) ...
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The dove-white gulls on the wet lawn in Washington Square??? in the early morning fog each a little ghost in the gloaming Souls transmigrated maybe fr ...
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In Golden Gate Park that day ???????????????????????????a man and his wife were coming along??? ?????????thru the enormous meadow ???????????????????? ...
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Whatever city or country road you two are on there are nettles, and the dark invisible elements cling to your skin though you do not cry and you do no ...
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We saw no action, eleven months twenty-two days in our old tank burning sixty feet away: I watch them burn inside out: hoisting through heavy crossfir ...
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The white moon rose And sank in the Pacific. 2 Now, as we stand idle, Watching the silent, bowler-hatted man, The engineer, who writes in the smoking ...
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Her hands were hollow, pale, and blue, Her mouth like watered wine.
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Trees in the old days used to stand And shape a shady lane Where lovers wandered hand in hand Who came from Carentan. This was the shining green canal ...
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I dreamed that in a city dark as Paris I stood alone in a deserted square. My confrere In whose thick boots I stood, were you amazed To wander through ...
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