Denise Levertov

Denise Levertov

Priscilla Denise Levertov (24 October 1923 – 20 December 1997) was an American poet. She was a recipient of the Lannan Literary Award for Poetry. Levertov's 'What Were They Like?' Больше
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#california2 мин. чтения

In California During The Gulf War

Among the blight-killed eucalypts, amongtrees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts,the yards and hillsides exhausted by five years of drought,certain airy white blossoms punctuallyreappeared, and dense clusters of pale pink, dark pink—a delicate ...

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#sojourns2 мин. чтения

Sojourns In The Parallel World

We live our lives of human passions,cruelties, dreams, concepts,crimes and the exercise of virtuein and beside a world devoidof our preoccupations, freefrom apprehension—though affected,certainly, by our actions
A worldparallel to our own tho...

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#intrusion1 мин. чтения

Intrusion

After I had cut off my handsand grown new onessomething my former hands had longed forcame and asked to be rocked
After my plucked out eyeshad withered, and new ones grownsomething my former eyes had wept forcame asking to be pitied

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#people2 мин. чтения

People at Night

A night that cuts between you and youand you and you and youand me : jostles us apart, a man elbowingthrough a crowd
We won't look for each other, either-wander off, each alone, not lookingin the slow crowd
Among sideshows under movie si...

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#looking1 мин. чтения

Looking Walking Being

"The World is not something tolook at, it is something to be in
"Mark RudmanI look and look
Looking's a way of being: one becomes,sometimes, a pair of eyes walking
Walking wherever looking takes one

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#the2 мин. чтения

The Métier Of Blossoming

Fully occupied with growing—that'sthe amaryllis
Growing especiallyat night: it would takeonly a bit more patience than I've gotto sit keeping watch with it till daylight;the naked eye could register every hour'sincrease in height
Like a ...

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#seeing1 мин. чтения

Seeing For A Moment

I thought I was growing wings—it was a cocoon
I thought, now is the time to stepinto the fire—it was deep water
Eschatology is a word I learnedas a child: the study of Last Things;facing my mirror—no longer young, the news—always of deat...

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#web1 мин. чтения

Web

Intricate and untraceable weaving and interweaving,dark strand with light:designed, beyondall spiderly contrivance,to link, not to entrap:elation, grief, joy, contrition, entwined;shaking, changing,foreverforming, transforming:all praise,all prais...

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#the thread1 мин. чтения

The Thread

Something is very gently, invisibly, silently, pulling at me-a thread or net of threads finer than cobweb and as elastic
I haven't tried the strength of it
No barbed hook pierced and tore me
Was it not long ago this thread began to ...

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#the1 мин. чтения

The Secret

Two girls discoverthe secret of lifein a sudden line ofpoetry
I who don't know thesecret wrotethe line
Theytold me(through a third person)they had found itbut not what it wasnot evenwhat line it was
No doubtby now, more than a weekl...

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#the well1 мин. чтения

The Well

At sixteen I believed the moonlight could change me if it would
I moved my headon the pillow, even moved my bedas the moon slowlycrossed the open lattice
I wanted beauty, a dangerousgleam of steel, my body thinner,my pale face paler

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#the breathing1 мин. чтения

The Breathing

An absolutepatience
Trees standup to their knees infog
The fogslowly flowsuphill
Whitecobwebs, the grass leaning where deer have looked for apples

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