Old poems and older poems. The art in here is far more recent - all illustration tiles were made between April 20, 2024 and May 12, 2024.
Some of these poems were published in a chapbook, Eleusinian Mysteries, in 1995, under the pen name Sarah Maddo...
Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
I cannot write a decent sonnet yet though my desires creep onto the page to make furtive love poetry; the stage upon which I recite is dirty, and ill-set. No rhymes obey my commands. I write my every desire into screaming doggerel, hoping that in poetry I can tell my love in justice. But my words are trite. The songs are out of measure, my voice off-pitch, the lyric muse that courts me shakes her head - in vain did she inspire my pen, and grace my bed, 'twas vanity to summon her, I! a silly witch! Beloved, I cannot express what burns in me - as long as this fever chokes my heart, I am not free.
