A HUGO WILLIAMS POEM ON MEN'S PSYCHE |
MY CHANCES
As I grew warmer
and the bus went over the bumps,
I let my mind wander
further and further,
checking my scowl
in the window of the bus
against my chances
of bending her over t...
Posted by on Thu, 05 Jul 2007 10:47:00 GMT |
a ted hughes´ poem on mother-son relations |
BALLAD FROM A FAIRY TALE
I stood in a dark valley
and I saw, down the dark valley,
halifax boiling in silver
a moon desintegrating
in a fury of ghostly brilliance
And climbing out, in a glare ...
Posted by on Tue, 19 Jun 2007 19:29:00 GMT |
AT THIRTY-ONE, WHEN SOME ARE RICH AND OTHERS DEAD |
At thirty-one, when some are rich
and others dead,
I, being neither, have a job instead,
but come each evening to a high room
above deep gardenfuls of air, on which
already has been laid an autumm blo...
Posted by on Tue, 22 May 2007 10:08:00 GMT |
