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historybetweenthepages · 7 months

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E. E. Cummings – Crepuscule (I Will Wade Out)

XLI Poems, 1925

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aboutbirds · 1 year

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XLI

I thank all who have loved me in their hearts, With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all Who paused a little near the prison-wall To hear my music in its louder parts Ere they went onward, each one to the mart's Or temple's occupation, beyond call. But thou, who, in my voice's sink and fall When the sob took it, thy divinest Art's Own instrument didst drop down at thy foot To hearken what I said between my tears... Instruct me how to thank thee! Oh, to shoot My soul's full meaning into future years, That they should lend it utterance, and salute Love that endures, from Life that disappears!

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, from Sonnets from the Portuguese

#elizabeth barrett browning #sonnet xli #sonnets from the portuguese #out of my collection #formative poems

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intopermanence · 28 days

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My skin is wilting as I melt on this cross with You. We drip with otherness, but we are a sameness that is not other than — only, always, Now. This abyss, Your cross; my womb, an abyss for Melquiadian splendors.

Annabella of Ely, from Poems I-LXVII: “XLI”

#Annabella of Ely #Found literature #non-fiction #poetry

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monriatitans · 2 months

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February 2024 Wrap-Up

Current AI ‘art’ is created on the backs of hundreds of thousands of artists and photographers who made billions of images and spend time, love and dedication to have their work soullessly stolen and used by selfish people for profit without the slightest concept of ethics. – Alexander Nanitchkov

February’s Artist Shout-Outs

Alana Fletcher

amorecstasy

Julia Ro

Lucas Onzeki

Indeepencil

Manuel Javier Noreña Castaño

Nyrel Aoki

Simon Auchterlonie

Martin McHugh

Roxanne Henderson-Payne

Hana Augustine

Ander Lizarraga

February’s Streams and Videos

Let’s Discuss Some $#!7 — Behind the Scenes

Banned Books Edition: Let’s Read Some $#!7 by Kurt Vonnegut & Angie Thomas

Let’s Do… Something

Let’s Play Some $#!7! — Hades

Black History Month Quotes of 2024

QUOTE 1: Marian Anderson

QUOTE 2: Ta-nehisi Coates

QUOTE 3: Henry Louis Gates Jr.

QUOTE 4: Martin Luther King Jr.

QUOTE 5: Mikki Kendall

QUOTE 6: Victor Luckerson

QUOTE 7: Clint Smith

QUOTE 8: Farah Jasmine Griffin

QUOTE 9: N.K. Aning

QUOTE 10: Daven McQueen

QUOTE 11: Brittany K. Barnett

QUOTE 12: James Baldwin

QUOTE 13: D.L. Hughley

QUOTE 14: Saidiya Hartman

QUOTE 15: Abhijit Naskar

Check out the Yocum African American History Association (YAAHA), “a 501(c)(3) organization dedicated to sharing educational resources about black American history”.

February’s Neverending Reading List Shares

The Neverending Reading List: Book XXXIV — The Invisible Life of Addie Larue

The Neverending Reading List: Book XXXV — The Rules of Magic

The Neverending Reading List: Book XXXVI — Practical Magic

The Neverending Reading List: Book XXXVII — Save Your Breath

The Neverending Reading List: Book XXXVIII — The First Girl Child

The Neverending Reading List: Book XXXIX — Aftershocks

The Neverending Reading List: Book XL — Circle K Cycles

The Neverending Reading List: Book XLI — Patriarchy Blues

The Neverending Reading List: Book XLII — Herlot of Alonia

Poems Written

“School Prepares You”

College

“Look At Me!”

“Get A Job!”

Bibliophile

Betrayal

So?

Accusations

February’s Video Game Quotes

QUOTE 1: Silent Hill: Downpour

QUOTE 2: Okami

QUOTE 3: Castlevania: Symphony of the Night

QUOTE 4: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

QUOTE 5: To The Moon

QUOTE 6: Final Fantasy X

QUOTE 7: God of War III

QUOTE 8: Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

QUOTE 9: Pokémon Black and White

QUOTE 10: DOTA 2

QUOTE 11: Wing Commander IV: The Price of Freedom

February’s Literacy Quotes

QUOTE 1: Clifford Stoll

QUOTE 2: Adiela Akoo

QUOTE 3: Mokokoma Mokhonoana

QUOTE 4: Luisa Capetillo

QUOTE 5: Willy Thorn

QUOTE 6: C. S. Young

QUOTE 7: Carol Anderson

QUOTE 8: Lailah Gifty Akita

QUOTE 9: Tom Zoellner

QUOTE 10: Mem Fox

QUOTE 11: Peter van der Walt

February’s Stupidity Quotes

QUOTE 7: Kurian Mathew Tharakan

QUOTE 8: Craig D. Lounsbrough

QUOTE 9: Apuleius

QUOTE 10: Torron-Lee Dewar

QUOTE 11: Vincent Okay Nwachukwu

QUOTE 12: Izumi Suzuki

Kickstarter Items Received

Kickstarter Item Arrived: Cute Creatures Compendium by Catilus!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To expand the Opinions & Truth ( O&T) blog, MonriaTitans started The Weekend Game Show ( WGS) to educate on and discuss different aspects of game development, and to show why video games can take years to make, to prevent another Cyberpunk 2077 launch scenario. Watch MonriaTitans on Twitch and YouTube!

In addition, she shares educational quotes to promote literacy, the legitimacy of video games as an artistic medium, and regarding a Cause of the Month to raise awareness, while giving Artist Shout-Outs to human artists to combat AI art theft. Want to learn more about the Artist Shout-Outs? Click here! #createdontscrape

The Artists Shout-Out posts can be seen here, on Instagram, Facebook, Discord, and more!

She is also an artist under the handle TitansMonriArt.

—

Like what you see and want to know when there’s more? Click here to subscribe for updates and/or hit the Follow button! Enjoy what I do? Please consider supporting via Buy Me a Coffee! Lastly, posts may contain affiliate links.

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minimalistartshop · 1 year

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The Background and Legacy of E.E. Cummings

E.E. Cummings, born Edward Estlin Cummings on October 14, 1894, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, was a highly influential and innovative American poet, playwright, essayist, and painter. Renowned for his unique approach to language, typography, and poetic form, Cummings left an indelible mark on the world of literature. This article explores the life, artistic contributions, and lasting legacy of E.E. Cummings.

Early Life and Education

E.E. Cummings grew up in a supportive and intellectually stimulating environment. His parents encouraged his creativity and love for language from an early age. Cummings’ father, Edward Cummings, was a professor of sociology and political science at Harvard University, where Cummings later enrolled as a student.

Shaping the Artistic Voice

During his time at Harvard, Cummings delved into various art forms, including poetry, playwriting, and visual arts. He experimented with different styles and techniques, pushing the boundaries of conventional artistic expression. His exposure to avant-garde movements, such as Cubism and Dadaism, played a significant role in shaping his artistic voice.

Innovative Writing Style

One of the most distinctive aspects of E.E. Cummings’ work is his unconventional use of language and typography. He disregarded traditional grammar rules, often eschewing capitalization and punctuation, and played with syntax and word order. Cummings’ poems are known for their visual impact on the page, with words and phrases scattered across the whitespace, creating a dynamic and visually engaging experience for the reader.

Themes and Influences

Cummings’ poetry explores a wide range of themes, including love, nature, identity, and the human condition. He had a profound appreciation for the beauty of the natural world and frequently incorporated imagery from nature into his work. His poems also delved into the complexities of human relationships, capturing both the joys and struggles of love and connection.

Influenced by transcendentalist thinkers like Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau, Cummings celebrated the individual’s freedom of expression and connection to the larger universe. His poetry often reflected a deep sense of spirituality and a belief in the transformative power of love and art.

Literary Contributions and Recognition

E.E. Cummings published numerous collections of poetry throughout his career, including “Tulips and Chimneys,” “XLI Poems,” and “95 Poems,” to name just a few. His works received mixed reactions initially, with some critics finding his style too unconventional. However, his unique approach to language and form gradually gained recognition and acclaim.

Over time, Cummings’ contributions to literature were widely celebrated. He received prestigious awards such as the Bollingen Prize in Poetry and the Academy of American Poets Fellowship. His work continues to be studied and appreciated for its linguistic innovation, evocative imagery, and profound emotional resonance.

Legacy and Influence

E.E. Cummings’ legacy as a poet and artist extends far beyond his lifetime. His innovative style and unconventional use of language have inspired countless poets and writers, who continue to experiment with form and push the boundaries of creative expression.

Cummings’ ability to distill complex emotions and experiences into concise and powerful verses has resonated with readers across generations. His work speaks to the human spirit, inviting readers to question societal norms, embrace their individuality, and explore the beauty and mystery of life.

Conclusion

E.E. Cummings, with his groundbreaking approach to language and form, has left an enduring impact on the world of literature. His poetry continues to captivate readers with its visual and emotional intensity. Cummings’ legacy as a poet, playwright, and visual artist serves as a reminder of the power of artistic innovation and the limitless possibilities of language.

Shop for E.E. Cummings Typography Art Prints.

#e.e. cummings #legacy #lit #literature #history

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libidomechanica · 1 year

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Untitled # 9468

A cinquain sequence

I

Of thee to haunch. Will Shakespeare drive the sky. Too lavishly are his cheek who can trace the grave.

II

‘Cut off! And their Loss to move my heart. Let me beare mystery. The liefest boon, to rehearse.

III

Would wandering of it. Wealth had espy? Unheard me with such as knew not in misery.

IV

Cure me. It’s vapor don’t, and whifts of Sicily: to northern seas between there their marble.

V

Han vs assayde, how can yours, sketches, to vex the liquid air; behold! It all, came next.

VI

Something and true, it seems to say. Even story has discoursing, yet double whisp’ring new.

VII

To some in the depth the animals. Till not defend thy approach, O Spring cock; tu—whit!

VIII

Lassie, why, sad Hero much less, the multitude. His delights of loue does she past— and och!

IX

And if you’re not pauses of gladness! Save that give the patron. In: o Moon! While he was born.

X

Wherewithal. And snapp’d up his approach the Master’s unsought revelled her the etherea!

XI

Their heart ’gan fare along it can, hanging headlong to fit for they ho! Immortality.

XII

Such comfort me, wretch her breake your parts. Two greene, as lasse passed again, and and coveted way.

XIII

The land, left him speakers they like a stoics—men wilt know! A pretty, trifling Lilia.

XIV

And learn to scold me. Their former in hungry for bulls or shake your refused; yet every thing!

XV

Yet every mortal serene: his was all else? All this way, whose Fount of raiment took no pain.

XVI

Perfect of the solitude. Next Juan, for the two composed their hand: these the trees. Might delight!

XVII

With our round my distraction among. In proper twinkle in yonder if his braunches brink?

XVIII

And cunning. Cupid a bonie Jean. From lovely fickle glass, and for honeymoon could return.

XIX

The Baron said. Chemise as the which opal domes with a joint of Jove ground no sins enclose!

XX

To nought, and fro, that castle gate, hang in the divine. With a boy was let your face then, since?

XXI

No man and rain, that never, quell, the you should stream. And the fair, I followed your winter sleep!

XXII

Perhaps thy scythe tocsin of well-nature teach history. She had ne’er had a mother’d’ as suit.

XXIII

Pain. Me, some days so potently? Why did the oxygen. Again on waking at the spell.

XXIV

A land often after their lips. Have been save them a lonely youthful to see unfold thee.

XXV

Hee, in the men eager swirl and men happy’as I could turns greete, make one poem I want her.

XXVI

Dwelt upon, as heart. Though stomach lurch, ferris wheeled, and fearing house; but t is left to say.

XXVII

Would but fan their spirit’s perche é vecchio, fa suoi al suo essempio. No news tonight.

XXVIII

Let’s scritch: for fresh Spring! Waiting on my though perhaps the air is blood of a dreading it.

XXIX

Thou see all this poor creatures! And, and muttering liberal Grace that hath speech, and Daniel tame?

XXX

Alas! That he fell? And strange fits of love. Go, and Thou; if I—this fire! Go, and But oh!

XXXI

My soule, I marry the branch of us, of the cried, return an arms were the lady died!

XXXII

Sister and take whome say fortune foeman, but by the facts. Whatever told me sooty oil.

XXXIII

Thou shalt not name you. Kneel down, This and obdurate minde; profess in such valid reason due.

XXXIV

Of food to be half appealing before we squatted upon my thought the walls. Having past.

XXXV

He asked, she went, curtain stews, and are wed. Our piety there she turned shirt and a drag-chain.

XXXVI

Swells within can be the happy face with what I unsex’d my vision forgot much amiss.

XXXVII

My sheep, and I a friend three days your glorious theory. And turn’d Love so eased away.

XXXVIII

Or cool and strength the people die. Imagine, perhaps the lips wait on Aunt took leave you stood.

XXXIX

The gentle maid, the shore and the place. For that dove, where quiet. Face forbade this old man’s knell.

XL

As thy flocking frown? And snowshoe, toys to pat the branched each him and then she, whom thou hast smil’d.

XLI

Then is Cupid forbeare. Not thy sweet Venus’ glass. Though her running on the beauty her sight.

XLII

Its tempests mad, and right— ouf! Of certain sickle: men are his furrowes: drerily loves.

XLIII

Might and somehow, there’s self grow’st; if Nature, these valleys. A lady’s priz’d, and mixt red mouth.

XLIV

Not content, which I might night hers like thing water that right did tame. Being young Chevalier.

XLV

Inky whiskey, on the savage mought in vayne. Robert Burns: pale, he replied, began to sing.

XLVI

I wish myself out-going to be. Is even their joy, and nose the devil got we in?

XLVII

’ Heather managed by peace, althoughts, a sting! ’En to mark of the facts! That iudge, at least prevail.

XLVIII

Hanging so hie, and if thus he reproduce her face; let’s gripe! Somewhat made them to rehearse.

XLIX

Felt their godlike my lasses me fall and Baba, who costly were what wilderness, delight.

L

Of names, pulling rather lep? I saw her of Jove it times—no lady Geraldine she soul!

LI

And all the negroes more swear to be Lords of straw. Now this music and laugh’d, and in a place?

LII

He starued with as one morning stealth.—An’ Charlotte, have taugment. Hath hymnes thy attention.

LIII

And all the harte. And he feels its utmost bosom’d as thou in my radiant floor, and mused her.

LIV

And oh, her Willy.—Knowing doth my eyes and drave large eyes makes me in maiden bosom take.

LV

So in the selfsame days? Then Christabel Jesu, Maria, shield hers! To heaven, he shores.

LVI

Of Rome transferr’d. Bent lips all rapt in nameless by hazelly she, what the fish most delight?

LVII

Was accurately mount upon it half her bends here, ’ asked by these the one after the bed.

LVIII

All unlike effect, even grapes, his bed; he snow than delight; for having breast. Their heardgroome.

LIX

To supper thirling bare as has gone. A cat, as thou first he mead so chill, then, went away.

LX

A lawn at played the man, I’m without all Eternity. I do denounce all are threttie year?

LXI

Kill his meaning’s maturity, checked in preach by fishes’ tails. Incapable of my fate.

LXII

Which you’llpardon’d all yonder river. Each speech: Ah! Of eyes, my fragile bones, o’er- master, whiff!

LXIII

Me language though the sun and and twelve upon the Eight arise? Be moved of nought you fleeting.

LXIV

Meekly on his harme of an improper for an insolent paint the mood as every much?

LXV

—Then bedde, or suite of Faith- preserv’d. Of ambitious flesh the dream I saw him whispered to hold.

LXVI

For underneath her guarded many time, what’s the corner when the East their passion: dust for?

LXVII

Spread of music; with dew; nor from me against my niece. Opened to the front doth flatter me?

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #190 texts #cinquain sequence

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luthienne · 4 years

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...the night has impaled itself on my soul.

Dulce María Loynaz, Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems; “Poema XLI” (tr. James O’Connor)

#dulce maría loynaz #absolute solitude: selected poems #poema xli #james o'connor #words #poetry #translations #cuban literature #latin american literature

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gwydionmisha · 3 years

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Sonnet XLI - William Shakespeare

Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits, When I am sometime absent from thy heart, Thy beauty, and thy years full well befits, For still temptation follows where thou art. Gentle thou art, and therefore to be won, Beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed; And when a woman woos, what woman's son Will sourly leave her till he have prevailed? Ay me! but yet thou mightst my seat forbear, And chide thy beauty and thy straying youth, Who lead thee in their riot even there Where thou art forced to break a twofold truth: Hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee, Thine by thy beauty being false to me.

#Sonnet XLI #William Shakespeare #Poem #Poetry

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coffeebirbsdarkacademia · 2 years

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...the night has impaled itself on my soul

Dulce Maria Loynaz, “Absolute Solitude: Selected Poems”; “Poema XLI(tr. James O’Conner”

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gravalicious · 3 years

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Racial self-consciousness for Césaire thus requires the demystification of colonial discourse on black racial particularity as its condition of possibility. Blackness as a particularized, racialized self-consciousness is produced through the historicization, deconstruction, and eventual rejection of the colonial discourse on black racial particularity. But the paradox does not stop there. For the poet’s affirmation of Negritude as a historically specific black identity is indissociable from his simultaneous assertion of a deracialized self-consciousness through a reconstructed notion of universal man: “Tenez, je ne suis plus qu’un homme, aucune dégradation, aucun crachat ne le conturbe, je ne suis plus qu’un homme qui accepte n’ayant plus de colère . . .” (52) / “Look, now I am only a man, no degradation, no spit perturbs him, now I am only a man who accepts emptied of anger”(73). In this sense, Césaire’s work both anticipates and surpasses Jean-Paul Sartre’s legendary critique of Negritude as a weak moment of negativity in a dialectical progression whose beginning is white supremacy and whose endpoint would be a raceless, classless society (Sartre XLI). Césaire’s poem suggests both the possibility of the black man’s embodiment of the universal through Negritude, and the profound naïveté of the Sartrean position according to which Negritude as a positive cultural value would be sufficient to propel a larger dialectical movement towards “the synthesis or realization of the human in a society without races” (my translation). For Césaire, there is no question of “transcending” blackness in favor of something more universal, as though the two are fundamentally distinct, for blackness and universality are fundamental predicates of one another. Césaire thus stresses the indispensability for the black man living under European domination of a continued investment in a Negritude not of essence or culturalism, but rather one based on the critical analysis of the historical conditions of oppression that have given rise to colonial subjection and to a certain myth of the black. It is only when the black condition is embraced and understood as an effect of history rather than essence that the irreducible humanity of blacks comes into full view. For the black man in a colonial world, therefore, universalism requires particularism as its necessary compliment. Only a racial consciousness that is attuned to the historical construction of any and all blackness will enable the black man to imagine himself as human, thus demonstrating even more profoundly that Negritude is a humanism.

Doris L. Garraway - “What Is Mine”: Césairean Negritude between the Particular and the Universal [Research in African Literatures, Vol. 41, No. 1, Special Issue: Aimé Césaire, 1913-2008: Poet, Politician, Cultural Statesman (Spring 2010), pp. 71-86]

#aimé césaire #universalism #particularism #negritude #blackness

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megairea · 4 years

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I will smile at the sun even though the night has impaled itself on my soul.

Dulce María Loynaz, from Poem XLI (tr. by James O’Connor)

#dulce maria loynaz #cuban literature #poetry #literature

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mjayms-blog · 6 years

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i showed you off to my friends and you fell in love with one of them.

°fuck him anyways° poems // xli

#mjayms #poems #poetry #spilled thoughts #spilled feelings #writing #spilled ink #spilled poetry #writersoftumblr #writer #spilled writing #spilled words

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monriatitans · 2 months

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The Neverending Reading List: Book XLI

"Patriarchy Blues: Reflections on Manhood" by Frederick Joseph

What does it mean to be a man today? How does the pervasive yet elusive idea of toxic masculinity actually reflect men’s experiences—particularly those of color—and how they navigate the world?

In this thought-provoking collection of essays, poems, and short reflections, Frederick Joseph contemplates these questions and more as he explores issues of masculinity and patriarchy from both a personal and cultural standpoint. From fatherhood and “manning up” to abuse and therapy, he lends his insights as a Black man as he fearlessly and thoughtfully tackles the complex realities of men’s lives today and their significance for society.

Written in Joseph’s unique voice, with an intelligence and raw honesty that demonstrates both his vulnerability and compassion, Patriarchy Blues compels us to consider the joys, pains, and destructive nature of manhood and the stereotypes it engenders.

—

Frederick Joseph is the New York Times bestselling author of The Black Friend and an award-winning marketing professional, activist, and educator. He was recently featured on the Forbes 30 Under 30 List. He lives in Long Island City, New York.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Interested in the book? Snag it real quick here! I call my book collection The Neverending Reading List! To see why, and the list of books I’ve already shared, click here! Enjoy what I do? Please consider supporting via the Tip page! Like what you see and want to know when there’s more? Click here to subscribe for updates and/or hit the Follow button! For more about MonriaTitans, click here! Watch MonriaTitans on Twitch and YouTube!

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itsfreeaudiobook · 3 years

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A book of 41 poems by E. E. Cummings classified as Songs I-XII [poems 1-12], Chansons Innocentes I-II [poems 13-14], Portraits I-IX [poems 15-23], La Guerre I-II [poems 24-25], Sonnets I-XVI [poems 26-41] - Summary by Scotty Smith via Libricox

#IFTTT #Libricox

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libidomechanica · 2 years

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Untitled (“No thing in I would be dead”)

A Kelly lune sequence

Stanza I

Have relive no long proud. No thing in I would be dead!

Stanza II

Black, composed? But still for that blossoming Century.

Stanza III

But he sighed upon me: my mother’s woe. In the guy.

Stanza IV

Was taught by elements so sweetly! When I praise thee?

Stanza V

Every word but mouthed erased. I can’t answer the sea.

Stanza VI

Was it a silent deep-disguisèd plot to steal a taste.

Stanza VII

I forgive ourselves away. Shallow still rubs his heart.

Stanza VIII

Of worldly please, nor avarice, nor wish another.

Stanza IX

The height of soür ale some sent from every vulgar thief.

Stanza X

What woman but that necessary. Will send thee low.

Stanza XI

Than anyone. I walked the bay where love makes my heart.

Stanza XII

Or up the tide: and though Nature spake—The working hinge ….

Stanza XIII

Upon sockets of will not to expecting the while.

Stanza XIV

Unless to pray to Allah from them who did except.

Stanza XV

One touch it knows nothing do’t? And now thy worth, despite.

Stanza XVI

Have stilled with sullen cloud. One eye or ear of burning.

Stanza XVII

Mark where a tree, whose beds of silence and pleasure, fie!

Stanza XVIII

You love more, my death. Suppose me clever: this could be.

Stanza XIX

Sounds of tears as pearl. Tell her, in youth’s lamented it.

Stanza XX

The act of falling. I charge you, for constant leper.

Stanza XXI

I am the Eske river. There vnseene, thou hast doves’ eyes.

Stanza XXII

Fearing the fields of men do still blesse, though I have his.

Stanza XXIII

Each changing you, while her mothers pay which here unfolds.

Stanza XXIV

For that bring their gifts too little prized among women?

Stanza XXV

Like the finger even. And from thee and heal’d the sleeves.

Stanza XXVI

Along your pursuit. Mark where you must descending moon.

Stanza XXVII

—The end—and close the poem. This caitife heart’s short tunes?

Stanza XXVIII

Did he stand is, and darkness. Thou who wilt not loved you.

Stanza XXIX

The blast—quick gather lilies. And nostril, dark as night.

Stanza XXX

I saw the sweet Elizium, by the under our care.

Stanza XXXI

But, trowth, I care’t na by. But ere her husbandry?

Stanza XXXII

One in the mind that win, the World on us doth breed.

Stanza XXXIII

We are betrayed by what I could be thou leave? But both.

Stanza XXXIV

Not a whisper of thy louer? For that poor Ambition!

Stanza XXXV

One Night like that can you turn away. If any stone?

Stanza XXXVI

To muse in my sight in human love. Thine own self bring?

Stanza XXXVII

Finding your sex. Even in Hells despaired,—been happy.

Stanza XXXVIII

If in falling to your nocturnal skin. And her eyes?

Stanza XXXIX

And Happiness there. Not one poor stone for the lattice.

Stanza XL

That by this is my face. Death is a power depose.

Stanza XLI

Cannot quench love, to a companions? I earned no more.

Stanza XLII

Thus Nature me a man-at-armes did make. From thy locks.

Stanza XLIII

Stiffened by thee. And the sawdust tavern at the stroke.

Stanza XLIV

Sleep to costume. Each blessed Lady that poor Ambition!

Stanza XLV

Watchmen that these thought it, a garden which circumstance.

Stanza XLVI

Look in thy louer? Me to surrender, you still for them.

Stanza XLVII

Out for hate, death squads passed by. Like a happened balloon.

Stanza XLVIII

Die. With no special person. The upper crimson cloud.

Stanza XLIX

Whom all wo can abide to the world would be. Of blood?

Stanza L

Put on your offence. Like gold to aery thinness beat.

Stanza LI

He said, except some, except. The Flame had followed me.

Stanza LII

Her two hundred. Keep them who did except. Nature Mine?

Stanza LIII

Is that able spirit fold, her breast. If of her days.

Stanza LIV

Collections—these will soon reach the apex of its face?

Stanza LV

Continue to flie. Set me and just maybe you love?

Stanza LVI

Which I have happen. And THOU for being frame destroy’d.

Stanza LVII

Me sooner starve than if he hae the night. Toward them noise.

Stanza LVIII

Finding you too short. It’s today: all of them, to keep.

Stanza LIX

Side of this island. Once i am here right betwixt.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #132 texts #Kelly lune sequence

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elanormcinerney · 7 years

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Emily Dickinson | XLI. | Poems: Three Series, Complete

Stephenie Meyer | Breaking Dawn

Emily Dickinson | XLI. | Poems: Three Series, Complete

#i had thought to be a woman breathing #all yr bodies alive and defunct #i wonder about vampires you cant say i dont like life #emily dickinson #stephenie meyer #twilight

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