Tag Archive: ingilizce şiirler

Birding at the Dairy / by Sidney Wade

Sidney-Wade

We’re searching
for the single

yellow-headed
blackbird Devamını Oku

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Proximity / by Randall Mann

Out of the fog comes a little white bus.
It ferries us south to the technical mouth
of the bay. This is biopharma, Double Helix Way. Devamını Oku

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Unfollowed Figment / by Lyn Hejinian

lyn-hejinian
Useless lighthouse, and the bucket on the beach, the tattered begonias
Forget examples–there’s not an entity or detail around that isn’t more
   than a mere example
What’s truly funny? Devamını Oku
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Variation on a Theme / by W. S. Merwin

W-S-Merwin

Thank you my life long afternoon
late in this spring that has no age
my window above the river
for the woman you led me to Devamını Oku
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Indian Stream Republic / by Stephen Burt

stephen-burt

No one should be this alone–

none of the pines

in their prepotent verticals, Devamını Oku

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L’Avenir est Quelque Chose / by Dobby Gibson

Dobby-Gibson

All day for too long
everything I’ve thought to say
has been about umbrellas,
how I can’t remember how
I came to possess whatever weird one
I find in my hand, like now,  Devamını Oku
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Before the Birth of One of Her Children / by Anne Bradstreet

anne-bradstreet

 

All things within this fading world hath end,

Adversity doth still our joys attend;

No ties so strong, no friends so dear and sweet,

But with death’s parting blow are sure to meet.  Devamını Oku

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Time / by Chris Martin

chris-martin
All that happens happens
in the hollow
mouth
open mid-vow
knowing  Devamını Oku
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If / by Rudyard Kipling

 Rudyard-Kipling-siir 
If you can keep your head when all about you
   Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
   But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
   Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
   And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; Devamını Oku
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Remorse / by Carl Sandburg

Carl-Sandburg

 The horse’s name was Remorse.

There were people said, “Gee, what a nag!”
And they were Edgar Allan Poe bugs and so
They called him Remorse. Devamını Oku

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Living in Numbers / by Claire Lee

Claire-Lee

Sunday, August 22, 2010:

Number of times I’ve woken up after

oversleeping and sprung out of bed like a ninja: 959

Number of broken bones: 3

Number of scars, physical: 4; emotional: 947

Number of funerals attended: 7

Number of friends, Facebook: 744, real: 9

Number of cavities filled: 0 Devamını Oku

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Opening Gambit / by Michael McGriff

Michael-McGriff

Two decommissioned highways cross
and continue toward their borders
with the casual certainty
the dead carry in their sample cases.
Leaning against the wind
I notice tufts of fur in the air
and a driveshaft rising from the sand,
then the horsehair of a violinist’s bow
drawn steadily across my neck. Devamını Oku

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Ghazal: In Silence

Mimi-Khalvati

Let them be, the battles you fought, in silence.
Bury your shame, the worst you thought, in silence. Devamını Oku

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Poem Entering the Apple Valley Target

Into the fluorescent rough country
headlong into bulks of flesh Devamını Oku
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Magdalene

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