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Ted Hughes

 Black was the without eye Black the within tongue Black was the heart Black the liver, black the lungs Unable to suck in light Black the blood in its loud tunnel Black the bowels packed in furnace Black too the muscles Striving to pull out into the light Black the nerves, black the brain With… Continue reading Ted Hughes

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Bardic · British Culture · British Literature · Classic · Excerpt · Fragment · Jungian · Modernism · Poetry

Ted Hughes

Had you caught something in me, Nocturnal and unknown to me? Or was it Your doomed self, your tortured, crying, Suffocating self? Whichever, Those terrible, hypersensitive Fingers of your verse closed round it and Felt it alive. The poems, like smoking entrails, Came soft into your hands. —Ted Hughes, from “The Rabbit Catcher,” Birthday Letters.… Continue reading Ted Hughes

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