Medusa
I had come to the house, in a cave of trees, Facing a sheer sky
Everything moved, — a bell hung ready to strike, Sun and reflection wheeled by
When the bare eyes were before me And the hissing hair, Held up at a window, seen through a do...
I had come to the house, in a cave of trees, Facing a sheer sky
Everything moved, — a bell hung ready to strike, Sun and reflection wheeled by
When the bare eyes were before me And the hissing hair, Held up at a window, seen through a do...
I’ve come to give you fruit from out my orchard,
Of wide report
I have trees there that bear me many apples
Of every sort:
Now that I
How passion warms
Of flesh in the mould,
And treasure is brittle,—I'll lie here and
In fear of the rich mouthI kissed the thin,—Even that was a
To snare me in
Even she, so
The frail, the scentless,
She has no need to fear the fall Of harvest from the laddered reach Of orchards, nor the tide gone ebbing From the steep beach
Nor hold to pain's effrontery Her body's bulwark, stern and savage, Nor be a glass, where to forsee Another's ravag...
Women have no wilderness in them,
They are provident instead,
Content in the tight hot cell of their
To eat dusty bread
She has attained the permanence She dreamed of, where old stones lie sunning
Untended stalks blow over her Even and swift, like young men running
Always in the heart she loved Others had lived, — she heard their laughter
She lies wh...
At midnight
Run in your ears
To me, one silly task is like another
I bare the shambling tricks of lust and pride
This flesh will never give a child its mother,— Song, like a wing, tears through my breast, my side,
And madness chooses out my voice again,
When beauty breaks and falls asunderI feel no grief for it, but wonder
When love, like a frail shell, lies broken,
I keep no chip of it for token
I never had a man for
It is yourself you
In a long rage,
Scanning through light and
Mirrors, the page,
Here, in the withered arbor, like the arrested wind,
Straight sides, carven knees,
Stands the statue, with hands flung out in alarm Or remonstrances
Over the lintel sway the woven bracts of the vine In a pattern of angles