Dreams poems

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Doors, Doors, Doors

© Anne Sexton

Old man, it's four flights up and for what?
Your room is hardly bigger than your bed.
Puffing as you climb, you are a brown woodcut
stooped over the thin tail and the wornout tread.

Rumpelstiltskin

© Anne Sexton

Inside many of us
is a small old man
who wants to get out.
No bigger than a two-year-old

A Curse Against Elegies

© Anne Sexton

Oh, love, why do we argue like this?
I am tired of all your pious talk.
Also, I am tired of all the dead.
They refuse to listen,

The Shepherd's Calendar - August

© John Clare

Harvest approaches with its bustling day

The wheat tans brown and barley bleaches grey

Lullaby

© Anne Sexton

It is a summer evening.
The yellow moths sag
against the locked screens
and the faded curtains

The Death Baby

© Anne Sexton

I was an ice baby.
I turned to sky blue.
My tears became two glass beads.
My mouth stiffened into a dumb howl.
They say it was a dream
but I remember that hardening.

Demon

© Anne Sexton

I mentioned my demon to a friend
and the friend swam in oil and came forth to me
greasy and cryptic
and said,
"I'm thinking of taking him out of hock.
I pawned him years ago."

Hurry Up Please It's Time

© Anne Sexton

What is death, I ask.
What is life, you ask.
I give them both my buttocks,
my two wheels rolling off toward Nirvana.

Young

© Anne Sexton

A thousand doors ago
when I was a lonely kid
in a big house with four
garages and it was summer

The Fairy

© Charles Lamb

Said Ann to Matilda, "I wish that we knew

If what we've been reading of fairies be true.

Now to be still and rest, while the heart remembers
All that is learned and loved in the days of long past,
To stoop and warm our hands at the fallen embers,
Glad to have come to the long ways end at last.

Symphonic Studies (After Schumann)

© Emma Lazarus

Prelude

Blue storm-clouds in hot heavens of mid-July

Ballade Of Midsummer Days And Nights

© William Ernest Henley

And it's O, for my dear and the charm that stays -
Midsummer days! Midsummer days!
It's O, for my Love and the dark that plights -
Midsummer nights! O midsummer nights!

The Dispute

Once 'mid group of native mountains

Hot dispute arose,

The Princess (part 2)

At break of day the College Portress came:

She brought us Academic silks, in hue

The Adieu to Love

Nor do I dread thy vengeful wiles,
Thy soothing voice, thy winning smiles,
Thy trick'ling tear, thy mien forlorn,
Thy pray'r, thy sighs, thy oaths I scorn;
No more on ME thy arrows show'r,
Capricious Love! I BRAVE THY POW'R.

A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XX

Enough, dear Paris! We have laughed together,
'Tis time that we should part, lest tears should come.
I must fare on from winter and rough weather
And the dark tempests chained within Time's womb.