Anne Sexton

(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974 / Newton, Massachusetts)

Anne Sexton Poems

1. The Stand-Ins 3/29/2010
2. The Road Back 3/29/2010
3. The Fury Of Cooks 3/29/2010
4. The Fury Of Jewels And Coal 3/29/2010
5. The Firebombers 3/29/2010
6. The Fury Of Earth 3/29/2010
7. The Bells 3/29/2010
8. Torn Down From Glory Daily 3/29/2010
9. The Balance Wheel 3/29/2010
10. The House 3/29/2010
11. The Author Of The Jesus Papers Speaks 3/29/2010
12. Letter Written On A Ferry While Crossing Long Island Sound 3/29/2010
13. The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts 3/29/2010
14. Some Foreign Letters 3/29/2010
15. Raccoon 3/29/2010
16. The Fury Of Sunrises 3/29/2010
17. The Fury Of Hating Eyes 3/29/2010
18. The Child Bearers 3/29/2010
19. Hutch 3/29/2010
20. To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph 3/29/2010
21. The Fury Of Rain Storms 3/29/2010
22. The Children 3/29/2010
23. For Johnny Pole On The Forgotten Beach 3/29/2010
24. The Angel Food Dogs 3/29/2010
25. The Consecrating Mother 3/29/2010
26. Woman With Girdle 3/29/2010
27. Small Wire 3/29/2010
28. The Fury Of Guitars And Sopranos 3/29/2010
29. The Red Dance 3/29/2010
30. The Expatriates 3/29/2010
31. The Legend Of The One-Eyed Man 3/29/2010
32. The Fury Of God's Good-Bye 3/29/2010
33. The Assassin 3/29/2010
34. The Errand 3/29/2010
35. Lullaby 3/29/2010
36. The Doctor Of The Heart 3/29/2010
37. Said The Poet To The Analyst 3/29/2010
38. The Hangman 3/29/2010
39. Old Dwarf Heart 3/29/2010
40. With Mercy For The Greedy 3/29/2010
Best Poem of Anne Sexton

45 Mercy Street

In my dream,
drilling into the marrow
of my entire bone,
my real dream,
I'm walking up and down Beacon Hill
searching for a street sign -
namely MERCY STREET.
Not there.

I try the Back Bay.
Not there.
Not there.
And yet I know the number.
45 Mercy Street.
I know the stained-glass window
of the foyer,
the three flights of the house
with its parquet floors.
I know the furniture and
mother, grandmother, great-grandmother,
the servants.
I know the cupboard of Spode
the boat of ice, solid silver,
where the ...

Read the full of 45 Mercy Street

Her Kind

have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,

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