Miracles poems
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40,000
© Charles Bukowski
at the track today,
Father's Day,
each paid admission was
entitled to a wallet
Ballad Of The Long-Legged Bait
© Dylan Thomas
The bows glided down, and the coast
Blackened with birds took a last look
At his thrashing hair and whale-blue eye;
The trodden town rang its cobbles for luck.
His Bill is clasped -- his Eye forsook --
© Emily Dickinson
His Bill is clasped -- his Eye forsook --
His Feathers wilted low --
The Claws that clung, like lifeless Gloves
Indifferent hanging now --
The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volume 1: 1931-1934
© Anais Nin
"Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the enjoyment of sweet foods, who practiced silence, who humiliated her pride, who adored symbols, statues, burning candles, incense, the caress of nuns, organ music, for whom Communion was a great event? I was so exalted by the idea of eating Jesus's flesh and drinking His blood that I couldn't swallow the host well, and I dreaded harming the it
