By Bob Hicok

My left hand will live longer than my right. The rivers
of my palms tell me so.
Never argue with rivers. Never expect your lives to finish
at the same time. I think

praying, I think clapping is how hands mourn. I think
staying up and waiting
for paintings ( Read more... )

By e e cummings

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond ( Read more... )

By Anne Carson

Beauty makes me hopeless. I don’t care why anymore I just want to get away. When I look at the city of Paris I long to wrap my legs around it. When I watch you dancing there is a heartless immensity like a sailor in a dead calm sea. Desires as round as peaches bloom in me all night, I no longer gather what falls.

By Eavan Boland

How on earth did it happen, I used to wonder
that a whole city-arches, pillars, colonnades ( Read more... )