American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Lyrics · Music · Poetry

Jim Morrison

I am troubled, immeasurably by your eyes. I am struck by the feather of your soft reply. The sound of glass speaks quick, disdain and conceals what your eyes fight to explain. ― Jim Morrison, Wilderness: The Lost Writings, Vol. (Vintage; 1st Vintage Books ed edition, December 17, 1989) Originally published 1988.

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Confessional · Excerpt · Modernism · Passage · Poetry

Sylvia Plath

And I slept on like a bent finger. The first thing I saw was sheer air And the locked drops rising in a dew Limpid as spirits. Many stones lay Dense and expressionless round about. I didn’t know what to make of it. I shone, mica-scaled, and unfolded To pour myself out like a fluid… Continue reading Sylvia Plath

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry

C. K. Williams

Words or wax, no end to our self-shaping, our forlorn awareness at the end of which is only more awareness. Was ever truth so malleable? Arid, inadhesive bits of matter. What might heal you? Love. What make you whole? Love. My love. — C. K. Williams, from  “Lost Wax,” Repair (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1999)

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