#AmericanWriters #Ekphrasis
Why go further? One might conceivably rectify the rhythm, study all out and arrive at the perfection of a tiger lily or a china doorknob. One might lift all out of the ruck, be a worthy...
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
I feel the caress of my own finger… on my own neck as I place my colla… and think pityingly of the kind women I have known.
Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest
This is a slight stiff dance to a waking baby whose arms have been lying curled back above his head upon the pillow, making a flower—the eyes closed. Dead to the world! Waking is a...
In Brueghel’s great picture, The… the dancers go round, they go roun… around, the squeal and the blare a… tweedle of bagpipes, a bugle and f… tipping their bellies (round as th…
This horrible but superb painting the parable of the blind without a red in the composition shows a group of beggars leading
The birches are mad with green poi… the wood’s edge is burning with th… burning, seething—No, no, no. The birches are opening their leav… by one. Their delicate leaves unfo…
I have had my dream—like others— and it has come to nothing, so tha… I remain now carelessly with feet planted on the ground and look up at the sky—
The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left
The little sparrows hop ingenuously about the pavement quarreling with sharp voices
It’s a strange courage you give me ancient star: Shine alone in the sunrise toward which you lend no part!
Oh, black Persian cat! Was not your life already cursed with offspring? We took you for rest to that old Yankee farm, —so lonely
The brutal Lord of All will rip us from each other—leave the one to suffer here alone. No need belief in god or hell to postulate that much. The dance: hands touching, leaves touch...
One leaves his leaves at home beomg a mullen and sends up a ligh… to peer from: I will have my way, yellow—A mast with a lantern, ten fifty, a hundred, smaller and smal…