poems Archive

Now wand’ring o’er this vile cunt-starving land I am content with what comes next to hand. Earl of Rochester, Sodom Favorite0

Nothing shows why at this unique distance from isolation It becomes more difficult to find words At once true and kind Or not untrue and not unkind. Philip Larkin, Talking in Bed Favorite0

The English Flag Rudyard Kipling 1891 Above the portico a flag-staff, bearing the Union Jack, remained fluttering in the flames for some time, but ultimately when it fell the crowds rent the air with shouts, and seemed to see significance in the incident. — DAILY PAPERS. WINDS of the World, give answer!