tags:
#couldn't resist
#T.S. Eliot
#The Waste Land
#poem
#poetry
#literature
#quote
#April

tags:
#Plath
#Sylvia Plath
#existentialism
#Futurama
#quotes
#poetry
#poem
#deep
#meaningful

"I don’t want to live on this planet any more."

— Sylvia Plath (via incorrectsylviaplathquotes)

tags:
#lit
#poetry
#Longfellow
#Christmas
#bells
#poem
#carol

"I heard the bells on Christmas day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet the words repeat
Of peace on earth, good will to men."

—

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, from “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”

Read the story behind the writing of this poem here.

(via bookoasis)

tags:
#Emily Dickinson
#manuscript
#poem

tags:
#emily dickinson
#i died for beauty
#poem

avoidablecatastrophes:

I died for beauty but was scarce 
Adjusted in the tomb, 
When one who died for truth was lain 
In an adjoining room.

He questioned softly why I failed? 
“For beauty,” I replied. 
“And I for truth, the two are one; 
We brethren are,” he said.

And so, as kinsmen met a night, 
We talked between the rooms, 
Until the moss had reached our lips, 
And covered up our names.

tags:
#emily dickinson
#autumn
#fall
#poem

dwacki:

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.

tags:
#Emily Dickinson
#poem

"

Going to Him! Happy letter!
Tell Him—
Tell Him the page I didn’t write—
Tell Him— I only said the Syntax—
And left the Verb and the pronoun out—
Tell Him just how the fingers hurried—
Then— how they waded— slow— slow—
And then you wished you had eyes in your pages—
So you could see what moved them so—

Tell Him— it wasn’t a Practised Writer—
You guessed— from the way the sentence toiled—
You could hear the Bodice tug, behind you—
As if it held but the might of a child—
You almost pitied it— you— it worked so—
Tell Him— no— you may quibble there—
For it would split His Heart, to know it—
And then you and I, were silenter.

Tell Him— Night finished— before we finished—
And the Old Clock kept neighing “Day”!
And you— got sleepy— and begged to be ended—
What could it hinder so— to say?
Tell Him— just how she sealed you— Cautious!
But— if He ask where you are hid
Until tomorrow— Happy letter!
Gesture Coquette— and shake your Head!

"

— (via yesindeedemilydickinson)

tags:
#emily dickinson
#poem
#literature

Emily Dickinson

tags:
#Ciardi
#poem
#limerick
#nonsense

There was an old lady in Bumbletown.

She had three black cats and five were brown.

She had two red crows and three were blue.

Which is rather strange, but so are you.

John Ciardi

tags:
#Roethke
#nonsense
#poem

Suppose the Ceiling Went Outside

And then caught Cold and Up and Died?

The only Thing we’d have for Proof

That he was Gone, would be the Roof;

I think it would be Most Revealing

To Find Out How the Ceiling’s Feeling.

Theodore Roethke