I believe that there are people who think as I do, who have thought as I do, who will think as I do. There are those who will live, unconscious of me, but continuing my attitude, so to speak, as I con...
I am dead to them, even though I once flowered.
I am both worse and better than you thought.
A ring of gold with the sun in it?Lies. Lies and a grief.
When I was learning to creep, my mother set me down on the beach to see what I thought of it. I crawled straight for the coming wave and was just through the wall of green when she caught my heels.
This is my first snow at Smith. It is like any other snow, but from a different window, and there lies the singular charm of it.
The reason I hadn't washed my clothes or my hair was because it seemed so silly. I saw the day of the year stretching ahead like a series of bright, white boxes, and separating one box from another wa...
Is it the sea you hear in me?Its dissatisfactions?Or the voice of nothing, that was your madness?Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it.
If only I can find him... the man who will be intelligent, yet physically magnetic and personable. If I can offer that combination, why shouldn't I expect it in a man?
I, to you, am lost in the gorgeous errors of flesh.
I told him I believed in hell, and that certain people, like me, had to live in hell before they died, to make up for missing out on it after death, since they didn't believe in life after death, and...
I saw the gooseflesh on my skin. I did not know what made it. I was not cold. Had a ghost passed over? No, it was the poetry. A spark flew off Arnold and shook me, like a chill. I wanted to cry; I fel...
I feel good with my husband: I like his warmth and his bigness and his being-there and his making and his jokes and stories and what he reads and how he likes fishing and walks and pigs and foxes and...
I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want and live all the lives I want. I can never train myself in all the skills I want. And why do I want? I want to live and feel...
I am drowning in negativism, self-hate, doubt, madness - and even I am not strong enough to deny the routine, the rote, to simplify. No, I go plodding on, afraid that the blank hell in back of my eyes...
I am disabused of all faith, and see too clearly.
I Am VerticalBut I would rather be horizontal.I am not a tree with my root in the soilSucking up minerals and motherly loveSo that each March I may gleam into leaf,Nor am I the beauty of a garden bedA...
God, who am I?
All night your moth-breathFlickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen.A far sea moves in my ear.
We shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real.