Poems Rethabile Likes

First Lesson by Philip Booth | Poems Rethabile Likes First Lesson by Philip Booth Lie back daughter, let your head be tipped back in the cup of my hand. Gently, and I will hold you. Spread your arms wide, lie out on the stream and look high at the gulls. A dead- man's float is face down. You will dive and swim soon enough where this tidewater ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe me, when you tire on the long thrash to your island, lie up, and survive. As you float now, where I held you and let go, remember when fear cramps your heart what I told you: lie gently and wide to the light-year stars, lie ...

This Be The Verse by Philip Larkin | Poems Rethabile Likes This Be The Verse by Philip Larkin They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern And half at one another's throats. Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, And don't have any kids yourself. Poet: @PhilipLarkin Online: @HuckGutman...

Francesca by Ezra Pound | Poems Rethabile Likes Francesca by Ezra Pound You came in out of the night And there were flowers in your hands, Now you will come out of a confusion of people, Out of a turmoil of speech about you. I who have seen you amid the primal things Was angry when they spoke your name In ordinary places. I would that the cool waves might flow over my mind, And that the world should dry as a dead leaf, Or as a dandelion seed-pod and be swept away, So that I might find you again, Alone. Poet: @EzraPound Online: @Poets.org Book(s): @AbeBooks...

So Now What? by Abigail George | Poems Rethabile Likes So Now What? by Abigail George (for Charles Bukowski) During war, milk is the colour of blood, honey the colour of bone. The skulls here are bored. They want a new life, not this tragedy. I'm listing all your war crimes. I remember being happy. But I don't want to remember. I don't want to remember the man. I remember bombs and Gaza instead. Amputated limbs like branches. Here, everything tastes like seawater. I hope I'll wake up from this dream soon and that the man will return to me in the morning and to numb the...

Bluebird by Charles Bukowski | Poems Rethabile Likes Bluebird by Charles Bukowski there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you. there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke and the whores and the bartenders and the grocery clerks never know that he's in there. there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay do...