Journey into the Interior In the long journey out of the self, There are many detours, washed-out interrupted raw places Where the shale slides dangerously And the back wheels hang almost over the edg… more →
Nina Alvarezalexisorgera wrote 1 month ago: “Roethke was fond of quoting Rimbaud’s idea of the ’systematic derangement of the … more →
emilytronetti wrote 2 months ago: My Papa’s Waltz by T. Roethke The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I … more →
farsong wrote 3 months ago: There are plenty of spooky or creepy poems that give you goosebumps, Edgar Allan Poe, of course. But … more →
anon. wrote 7 months ago: The Sensualists by Theodore Roethke “There is no place to turn,” she said, “You have me pinned so cl … more →
ktanemura wrote 7 months ago: In Asian American discourse on contemporary Asian American poetry, Li-Young Lee is often situated i … more →
alwaysrambling wrote 9 months ago: My Papa’s Waltz By Theodore Roethke The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I h … more →
swallowed wrote 1 year ago: Theodore Huebner Roethke (1908–1963) The American writer and poet Theodore Roethke (1908-1963) taug … more →
callunafragrans wrote 1 year ago: The Waking by Theodore Roethke I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow, I feel my fate in what I ca … more →
contrabunny wrote 1 year ago: I Knew a Woman by T. Roethke I knew a woman, lovely in her bones, When small birds sighed, she would … more →
contrabunny wrote 1 year ago: The Geranium When I put her out, once, by the garbage pail, She looked so limp and bedraggled, So fo … more →
phantomcity wrote 1 year ago: Journey into the Interior In the long journey out of the self, There are many detours, washed-out in … more →
phantomcity wrote 1 year ago: In a Dark Time In a dark time, the eye begins to see, I meet my shadow in the deepening shade; I hea … more →
Hey, Mister! wrote 1 year ago: It’s been a dream of mine to teach critical theory. Yeah, you read that correctly. It’ … more →
phantomcity wrote 1 year ago: The Serpent There was a Serpent who had to sing. There was. There was. He simply gave up Serpenting. … more →
phantomcity wrote 2 years ago: She I think the dead are tender. Shall we kiss? - My lady laughs, delighting in what is. If she but … more →
phantomcity wrote 2 years ago: The Lost Son 1. The Flight At Woodlawn I Heard the dead cry: I was lulled by the slamming of iron, A … more →
phantomcity wrote 2 years ago: Wish For a Young Wife My lizard, my lively writher, May your limbs never wither, May the eyes in you … more →
phantomcity wrote 2 years ago: The Waking I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. -Theodore … more →
bloglily wrote 2 years ago: Do you think, dear reader, you might absorb two mid-century pleasures in the space of a week? Do t … more →