|
| |
by
Frank Bidart
Homo Faber
Whatever lies still uncarried from the abyss within
me as I die dies with me.
|
by
Emily Dickinson
To own a Susan of my own
To own a Susan of my own
Is of itself a Bliss --
Whatever Realm I forfeit, Lord,
Continue me in this!
|
by
Emily Dickinson
A face devoid of love or grace,
A face devoid of love or grace,
A hateful, hard, successful face,
A face with which a stone
Would feel as thoroughly at ease
As were they old acquaintances --
First time together thrown.
|
by
Emily Dickinson
Nature can do no more
Nature can do no more
She has fulfilled her Dyes
Whatever Flower fail to come
Of other Summer days
Her crescent reimburse
If other Summers be
Nature's imposing negative
Nulls opportunity --
|
by
Emily Dickinson
Advance is Life's condition
Advance is Life's condition
The Grave but a Relay
Supposed to be a terminus
That makes it hated so --
The Tunnel is not lighted
Existence with a wall
Is better we consider
Than not exist at all --
|
by
Arthur Hugh Clough
With Whom is no Variableness, Neither Shadow of Turning
It fortifies my soul to know
That, though I perish, Truth is so:
That, howsoe'er I stray and range,
Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change.
I steadier step when I recall
That, if I slip, Thou dost not fall.
|
by
Stevie Smith
The Reason
My life is vile
I hate it so
I'll wait awhile
And then I'll go.
Why wait at all?
Hope springs alive,
Good may befall
I yet may thrive.
It is because I can't make up my mind
If God is good, impotent or unkind.
|
by
Emily Dickinson
A Counterfeit -- a Plated Person --
A Counterfeit -- a Plated Person --
I would not be --
Whatever strata of Iniquity
My Nature underlie --
Truth is good Health -- and Safety, and the Sky.
How meagre, what an Exile -- is a Lie,
And Vocal -- when we die --
|
by
Mark Van Doren
Farewell and Thanksgiving
Whatever I have left unsaid
When I am dead
O'muse forgive me.
You were always there,
like light, like air.
Those great good things
of which the least bird sings,
So why not I?
Yet thank you even then,
Sweet muse, Amen.
|
by
Emily Dickinson
Frigid and sweet Her parting Face --
Frigid and sweet Her parting Face --
Frigid and fleet my Feet --
Alien and vain whatever Clime
Acrid whatever Fate.
Given to me without the Suit
Riches and Name and Realm --
Who was She to withhold from me
Penury and Home?
|
by
Emily Dickinson
This slow Day moved along --
This slow Day moved along --
I heard its axles go
As if they could not hoist themselves
They hated motion so --
I told my soul to come --
It was no use to wait --
We went and played and came again
And it was out of sight --
|
by
Emily Dickinson
The Rat is the concisest Tenant.
The Rat is the concisest Tenant.
He pays no Rent.
Repudiates the Obligation --
On Schemes intent
Balking our Wit
To sound or circumvent --
Hate cannot harm
A Foe so reticent --
Neither Decree prohibit him --
Lawful as Equilibrium.
|
by
Emily Dickinson
Mine Enemy is growing old --
Mine Enemy is growing old --
I have at last Revenge --
The Palate of the Hate departs --
If any would avenge
Let him be quick -- the Viand flits --
It is a faded Meat --
Anger as soon as fed is dead --
'Tis starving makes it fat --
|
by
Emily Dickinson
I had no time to hate, because
I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.
Nor had I time to love, but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.
|
by
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THE RULE OF LIFE.
IF thou wouldst live unruffled by care,
Let not the past torment thee e'er;
As little as possible be thou annoy'd,
And let the present be ever enjoy'd;
Ne'er let thy breast with hate be supplied,
And to God the future confide.
1815.*
|
by
Emily Dickinson
I worked for chaff and earning Wheat
I worked for chaff and earning Wheat
Was haughty and betrayed.
What right had Fields to arbitrate
In matters ratified?
I tasted Wheat and hated Chaff
And thanked the ample friend --
Wisdom is more becoming viewed
At distance than at hand.
|
by
Emily Dickinson
I had no time to Hate
I had no time to Hate --
Because
The Grave would hinder Me --
And Life was not so
Ample I
Could finish -- Enmity --
Nor had I time to Love --
But since
Some Industry must be --
The little Toil of Love --
I thought
Be large enough for Me --
|
by
Robert Frost
Fire and Ice
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
|
by
Friedrich von Schiller
My Antipathy
I have a heartfelt aversion for crime,--a twofold aversion,
Since 'tis the reason why man prates about virtue so much.
"What! thou hatest, then, virtue?"--I would that by all it were practised,
So that, God willing, no man ever need speak of it more.
|
by
Robert Creeley
The Mirror
Seeing is believing.
Whatever was thought or said,
these persistent, inexorable deaths
make faith as such absent,
our humanness a question,
a disgust for what we are.
Whatever the hope,
here it is lost.
Because we coveted our difference,
here is the cost.
|
by
Walter Savage Landor
The Evening Star
Smiles soon abate; the boisterous throes
Of anger long burst forth;
Inconstantly the south-wind blows,
But steadily the north.
Thy star, O Venus! often changes
Its radiant seat above,
The chilling pole-star never ranges --
'Tis thus with Hate and Love.
|
by
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
GENIAL IMPULSE.
THUS roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes,
Now serious am, now seek to please;
Now love and hate in turn one sees;
The motives now are those, now these;
Now nothings, now realities.
Thus roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes.
1810.
|
by
Frank O'Hara
Spleen
I know so much
about things I accept
so much it's like
vomiting. And I am
nourished by the
shabbiness of my
knowing so much
about others and what
they do and accepting
so much that I hate
as if I didn't know
what it is to me.
And what it is to
them I know and hate.
|
by
David Lehman
Our Friendship (January 14)
We have a name for it
in the South:
asshole buddies.
It means we've known
each other so long
it doesn't matter
that he's an asshole
in my opinion
or I'm an asshole
in his opinion
or whatever
And I want you to know
I'm not from the South
and you're not my buddy
and it doesn't matter
|
by
Charles Baudelaire
Music
Take me by the hand;
it's so easy for you, Angel,
for you are the road
even while being immobile.
You see, I'm scared no one
here will look for me again;
I couldn't make use of
whatever was given,
so they abandoned me.
At first the solitude
charmed me like a prelude,
but so much music wounded me.
|
|