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John Keats

When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my ‘mind’s eye’ flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head. — John Keats, from “To Hope” (February,… Continue reading John Keats

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Anthology · Classic · Collection · German Culture · German Literature · Greek Mythology · Inspirational · Modernism · Motivational · Poetry · Spiritual

Rainer Maria Rilke

Orpheus. Eurydice. Hermes That was the deep uncanny mine of souls. Like veins of silver ore, they silently moved through its massive darkness. Blood welled up among the roots, on its way to the world of men, and in the dark it looked as hard as stone. Nothing else was red. There were cliffs there,… Continue reading Rainer Maria Rilke

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Contemporary · Excerpt · Historical Fiction · Novelist · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · Romance · Young Adult

Ann Rinaldi

Because I had already resolved that if you’re afraid of love, your heart will break anyway, only in not half so nice a fashion as it does when you let somebody love you. ― Ann Rinaldi, Time Enough for Drums. (Troll Communications Llc; 1St Edition edition August 1988) . — Ann Rinaldi

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · LGBT · Open Mic · Performance Poetry · Poetry · Queer · Slam Poetry · Spoken Word

Andrea Gibson

My mouth is a fire escape. The words coming out don’t care that they are naked. There is something burning in there. —  Andrea Gibson, from “I Sing The Body Electric, Especially When My Power’s Out,” The Madness Vase: By Andrea Gibson. (Write Bloody Publishing September 15, 2011)

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Anthology · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry · Polish Culture · Polish Literature

Wisława Szymborska

I RESTORE lost love. Act now! Special offer! You lie on last year’s grass bathed in sunlight to the chin while winds of summers past caress your hair and seem to lead you in a dance. For further details, write: “Dream.” — Wisława Szymborska, from “Classifieds,” Poems, New and Collected, 1957-1997. (Mariner Books; 1 edition… Continue reading Wisława Szymborska

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