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It shouldn’t be,oh, but it is,life it’s hardenough, and hotenough to boilon a Georgia sidewalkduring an after schoolspecial because God knowsthere’s nothing specialabout Evelyn’s long, red hairthat she wrapped aroundher neck.And so what if her green eyes piercemy soul?The thought of her in bed drives me wild.So, what?I’m harder than I should be,but she’s hot enough to breakthe … [Read more...] about Hard Pass, By: Andrew Cyr

Now that all hearts are glad, all faces bright,Our aged Sovereign sits, to the ebb and flowOf states and kingdoms, to their joy or woe,Insensible. He sits deprived of sight,And lamentably wrapt in twofold night,Whom no weak hopes deceived; whose mind ensued,Through perilous war, with regal fortitude,Peace that should claim respect from lawless Might.Dread King of Kings, … [Read more...] about November, 1813, By: William Wordsworth

Another year! another deadly blow!Another mighty Empire overthrown!And We are left, or shall be left, alone;The last that dare to struggle with the Foe.'Tis well! from this day forward we shall knowThat in ourselves our safety must be sought;That by our own right hands it must be wrought;That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.O dastard whom such foretaste doth not … [Read more...] about November, 1806, By: William Wordsworth

How clear, how keen, how marvellously brightThe effluence from yon distant mountain's head,Which, strewn with snow smooth as the sky can shed,Shines like another sun, on mortal sightUprisen, as if to check approaching Night,And all her twinkling stars. Who now would tread,If so he might, yon mountain's glittering headTerrestrial, but a surface, by the flightOf sad mortality's … [Read more...] about November 1, By: William Wordsworth

Not Love, not War, nor the tumultuous swell,Of civil conflict, nor the wrecks of change,Nor Duty struggling with afflictions strangeNot these 'alone' inspire the tuneful shell;But where untroubled peace and concord dwell,There also is the Muse not loth to range,Watching the twilight smoke of cot or grange,Skyward ascending from a woody dell.Meek aspirations please her, lone … [Read more...] about Not Love, Not War, Nor The Tumultuous Swell, By: William Wordsworth