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

John Koethe

A sudden [b]reeze sweeps through the vacant lots, scattering leaves And cellophane, the miscellaneous detritus of a life. Like scraps of paper carried by the breeze from home To here, and then a figure walking towards me Across an open field, coming from the vast distance Things tend towards, they come at last to me:… Continue reading John Koethe

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American Literature · Anthology · British Culture · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Excerpt · Fragment · Imagism · Modernism · Passage · Poetry

T. S. Eliot

And every moment is a new and shocking Valuation of all we have been. We are only undeceived Of that which, deceiving, could no longer harm. — T. S. Eliot, from “East Coker” of the “Four Quartets,” The Complete Poems & Plays of T.S.Eliot (Faber & Faber Poetry, 2004)

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

Pablo Neruda

You gather things to you like an old road. You are peopled with echoes and nostalgic voices. I awoke and at times birds fled and migrated that had been sleeping in your soul. —Pablo Neruda, from “Your Breast Is Enough,” Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair. Translated by W. S. Merwin. (Penguin Classics;… Continue reading Pablo Neruda

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Classic · Collection · Essay · Excerpt · Non-fiction · Passage · Philosophy · Quote · Romanian Culture · Romanian Literature

Emil Cioran

We perceive first the anomaly of sheer existence, and only afterward that of our specific situation: the surprise of being precedes the surprise of being human. Yet the strange character of our state should constitute the primordial datum of our perplexities: it is less natural to be man than, simply, to be. We feel this… Continue reading Emil Cioran

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Abstract · American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry · Postmodernism · The New York School

John Ashbery

And Ut Pictura Poesis Is Her Name You can’t say it that way any more. Bothered about beauty you have to Come out into the open, into a clearing, And rest. Certainly whatever funny happens to you Is OK. To demand more than this would be strange Of you, you who have so many lovers,… Continue reading John Ashbery

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