O frost bitten blossoms, That are unfolding your wings From out the envious black branches. Bloom quickly and make much of the sunshine. The twigs conspire against you! Hear hem! They hold you from behind. — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
Sunshine of late afternoon-- On the glass tray a glass pitcher, the tumbler turned down, by which a key is lying--And the immaculate white bed — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
“unsignificantly off the coast there was a splash quite unnoticed this was Icarus drowning” — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
“You're a romanticist. What do you think a man is, a papaya? To digest your dinner? In pill form?” — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
Imagination though it cannot wipe out the sting of remorse can instruct the mind in its proper uses. — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
A poem is this:/A nuance of sound/delicately operating/upon a cataract of sense/...the particulars/of a song waking/upon a bed of sound. — William Carlos Williams Copy Share Image
