Anne Sexton

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

Anne Sexton Poems

1. The Legend Of The One-Eyed Man 3/29/2010
2. The House 3/29/2010
3. The Firebombers 3/29/2010
4. The Kite 3/29/2010
5. The Fury Of Overshoes 3/29/2010
6. The Child Bearers 3/29/2010
7. The Road Back 3/29/2010
8. The Stand-Ins 3/29/2010
9. The Division Of Parts 3/29/2010
10. The Hangman 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. Some Foreign Letters 3/29/2010
14. The Break Away 3/29/2010
15. The Expatriates 3/29/2010
16. The Fury Of Cooks 3/29/2010
17. Hutch 3/29/2010
18. The Gold Key 3/29/2010
19. The Errand 3/29/2010
20. The Death Baby 3/29/2010
21. Where I Live In This Honorable House Of The Laurel Tree 3/29/2010
22. The Break 3/29/2010
23. Small Wire 3/29/2010
24. Funnel 3/29/2010
25. The Moss Of His Skin 3/29/2010
26. What's That 3/29/2010
27. The Fury Of Earth 3/29/2010
28. The Fury Of God's Good-Bye 3/29/2010
29. The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts 3/29/2010
30. Raccoon 3/29/2010
31. The Fury Of Sunrises 3/29/2010
32. The Bells 3/29/2010
33. The Fury Of Hating Eyes 3/29/2010
34. Torn Down From Glory Daily 3/29/2010
35. The Balance Wheel 3/29/2010
36. Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall 3/29/2010
37. The Fallen Angels 3/29/2010
38. The Other 3/29/2010
39. The Doctor Of The Heart 3/29/2010
40. Said The Poet To The Analyst 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

Music Swims Back To Me

Wait Mister. Which way is home?
They turned the light out
and the dark is moving in the corner.
There are no sign posts in this room,
four ladies, over eighty,
in diapers every one of them.
La la la, Oh music swims back to me
and I can feel the tune they played
the night they left me

[Hata Bildir]