creative writer
German b being the German kid in the 20's in Los Angeles was difficult. there was much anti-German feeling then, a carry-over from World War 1.
By Mohsin3 years ago in Poets
Retirement By Far from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far; From scenes where Satan wages still His most successful war.
Hyla Brook By By June our brook’s run out of song and speed. Sought for much after that, it will be found Either to have gone groping underground
Invictus by Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.
SAUL Thou whose spell can raise the dead, Bid the Prophet's form appear. 'Samuel, raise thy buried head! King, behold the phantom Seer!'
A CRADLE SONG b Sleep, sleep, beauty bright, Dreaming in the joys of night; Sleep, sleep; in thy sleep Little sorrows sit and weep.
Pull A String, A Puppet Moves b each man must realize that it can all disappear very quickly: the cat, the woman, the job,
Sonnet L b How heavy do I journey on the way, When what I seek, my weary travel's end, Doth teach that ease and that repose to say,
THE HUMAN ABSTRACT b Pity would be no more If we did not make somebody poor, And Mercy no more could be If all were as happy as we.
A LITTLE BOY LOST b ‘Nought loves another as itself, Nor venerates another so, Nor is it possible to thought A greater than itself to know.
I Hid my Love By I hid my love when young till I Couldn't bear the buzzing of a fly; I hid my love to my despite Till I could not bear to look at light:
Acquainted with the Night I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light.