Anatomy Of My Poem

Anatomy of a Sarah Galvin Poem
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I am not afraid of mirrors or the future —Or even you , lovers, wandering cow-fat And rutting in the gardens of this earthly verge Where I too trod, a sunspot, parasol-shaded, Kin to the trees, the bees, the color green. I would have liked then for someone to touch me So I could know the purpose of this hardship. Behind my teeth are headstones, and behind those Skeletons of cavemen, of dinosaurs, And under my skin: alphabets, alphabets In black ink, a legacy of histories tiny and alive As an ant army marching toward forever.

Understand, please—I, too, have a splendid use, This world could not get rid of me if it wanted to. Materials for Teachers Materials for Teachers Home. Poems for Kids. Poems for Teens. Lesson Plans. Teach this Poem.

An Anatomy of the Long Poem

Poetry Near You. Academy of American Poets.

National Poetry Month. American Poets Magazine. Poems Find and share the perfect poems. Man shaped out of mud And made to speak and love— Let's stick in him a little whisperer, A bucket with two holes. Land on the moon. Charm to swoon. Talk to the dead you loved and bed. In words simpler, dreams are like a string of reflections on a river, hazy and flowing, speaking coded language.

My latest dream made an offer. I could either live in a world of dreams, or continue in the other, one of a thousand mazes. Some say that's 'crazy'. Not sure what is, my suggestion, or the word's definition. Devon Brock Aug Anatomy of Lightning and Psilocybin. Dirt don't call the lightning blue or femoral. In a furious upstroke my mushroomed spine explodes in the crown, splinters of bone and black lit pumas.

Driven to hell through a straw and all the trees are dead on the road.

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Partially inspired by Nightwatch by King Crimson, in my opinion one of their most underapreciated songs, this is me trying to pass to you the wonderful sensation I felt when looking at Anatomy lesson by Rembrandt, in my opinion one of the best paintings by one of the best paintors ever. The voice of journalism Join Us. Long poems create intimacy. Rowan S Jan 3. It was hesitation that I overcame because of you —— because I knew that this is what you wanted and expected from me. They revel in going too far; they eschew caution and practicality and categorization and even, perhaps, poetry itself, which as a form tends to value the economy of language. Land on the moon.

My dry lip adheres to a dry gum and my teeth are broke and purple. The lyrics are garbled and tongue-spoke. Guttural curses cling to my head, both hands holding back the temples of past myths, lies and discontents. Marriage of heaven and earth - strike down, down, down, that I may shut you up. Allison Wolf Oct Overactive Amygdala. Sarah Clark Aug Anatomy of a Rustling Body. We used to swing under the big willow tree We lived 3 doors down from each other We were princesses who fought dragons We could save the kingdom and find our prince by lunch time Our moms laughed and talked about how cute we were Four years old was a cute age Fast forward a bit We went into elementary school innocent and young Boys had cooties Girls had cooties Kickball always ended with someone getting hit in the face We would always sit out feild and pick grass and shape it into a little birds nest Life was good Until your parents started fighting and I mean really fighting.

SameHell Jan How dare someone accuse? How dare the tainted pay their dues??? The innocent are worse then the guilty. With their petty fights and stained hands, ever so filthy. They sit upon their wooden throne, with the mallet made to strike home. How is that fair? A soldier strikes and kills on the battlefield, innocent child, a gun he wields.

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Returns home a warrior, a hero. Then cast aside, nothing more then a zero. So why, oh why? When I make people die, why do there loved ones cry? Why am I punished? Why must the verdict be published? I am only doing what I was meant to. Yet here I sit in this electric chair. How is that fair?? One day I will have revenge on them all. I will watch them crawl, then watch them fall.

To all those twisted and angry Number 11 of Story Of Our Lives. Rowan S Jan 3.

I handle my panic attacks at times by riding the emotions and using writing as a grounding technique. My pen as a conduit to root myself to where I physically am, and not where my mind takes me. This is from roughly 2 years ago, and I have made so much progress in regards to my mental health management. I rarely, if ever, have panic attacks these days, but I will always remember how it feels to have the walls shrink in your mind.

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Sabila Siddiqui Nov And always in the mouth. The break here transforms the line into an index entry, reinforcing the idea that the poem's main subject is the innocence of the chimp's seemingly cruel and bizarre act. Galvin claims she wasn't thinking of William Butler Yeats's poem "Leda and the Swan" when writing this poem.

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Yeats wonders if Leda absorbed the god's knowledge and strength during the assault. The lyrical language returns, like the ocean waves the line invokes. The frog swallows the chimp, the earth crushes god, we kiss, everything explodes. And that's why the date was worth anything. Image from the film Royal Wedding. Like this chimp.

You explode and destroy each other in this crazy moment" Galvin says. Nobody controls who is the frog or the chimp or the sun or the ocean or what role they play on the date.

Part of the thrill of love is that you don't know. And in a good relationship, you're both at the same time.