Hemingway Poems - Poems about Hemingway

John Hemingway has died at the age of a hundred and five It was the luck of the Irish he said that helped him to survive At the age of nineteen he left his home in County Dublin And enlisted in the Royal Air Force and was officially sworn in. It was at the age of twenty-one that...

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The journey back The trail An Author of books “FOR WHOM THE BELLS TOLL” my look From Miami to Key West The whom being I 4 hour venture to tour Ernest Hemingway’s house in Key West, Florida Through his writings encouraged me to write Extending my own words into theory Mr. Hemingway being the vision of what words can be, and illustrating thoughts The whom...

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Prelude to what….. I see you, / you / yes, come into my…… laboratory of alchemist mystical languaging. where arsenic spills into the whirlpool of thought and savage syntax shatter like glass on concrete. Where Titans clash their pens both spear and shield signifier and signified in eternal dance. What truths lie hidden in the battle's tolling roll call. Just what...

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Ernest Hemingway: live it to write about it; book is loyal friend...

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Hemingway is nice big writer won Nobel Prize in Literature I really love to read Hemingway do you love to read him too?...

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he persevered through struggle conquering his courage and compassion...

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we go to great lengths to win ~ and in the end find that we've won nothing...

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the stillborn baby, gone- then mother too; wrapped arms 'round my unborn child. ...

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Thou tis poetry Paper meets pen Yet thus ink surrounding Thine words of Tis poetry is What shall be Shall be...

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I passed through Ketchum Losing my mind Surrounded by talking walls One drink turns to a bottle I try to write Poetry is poetry At the moment I drink surrounded by walls and I write" I was here then I was gone"...

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Once for whom the bell tolls did exist the playwright and the war journalist. Wilde had an ego that’s true but Hemingway always knew the importance of being Ernest! ~~~ Both men had huge egos. Ernest...

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The re-read (poet) Hemingway was a writer suffering from a disabling inhibition, the conversation he had with women in his books are based on wishes and not reality. Women in his life were stronger than him, he tried to compensate by bawdy behavior, it always ended with him stroking the cat and she going back to the...

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Today, writers do not drown in drink ~ Yet poets still fill the world with ink...

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Our nephew and his lovely wife invited us for an afternoon on their boat and I immediately thought of The Old Man And The Sea…you know the book that Hemingway wrote. As I lounged in the softness of my seat and felt the wind blowing through my hair…I wondered about Hemingway’s fisherman…and how he and I would...

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A boat crafted of rickety wood dragging a clumsy bottom A briny sea inhales the morning sun Hemingway is in my boat Rubbing my weary eyes, Is that you, I query Call me Papa, he proffers With my papers clinched in leathery hands Did you read my book; I ask? Not bad, he replies, too many words Too many, I ponder Icebergs, pointing crooked fingers...

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