As It Was Written
riding your merry-go-round
right to the roots,
thickening the oceans like gravy,
festering in your caves,
you are becoming a latrine.
Your trees are twisted chairs.
Your flowers moan at their mirrors,
and cry for a sun that doesn't wear a mask.
Your clouds wear white,
trying to become nuns
and say novenas to the sky.
The sky is yellow with its jaundice,
and its veins spill into the rivers
where the fish kneel down
to swallow hair and goat's eyes.
All in all, I'd say,
the world is strangling.
And I, in my bed each night,
listen to my twenty shoes
converse about it.
And the moon,
under its dark hood,
falls out of the sky each night,
with its hungry red mouth
to suck at my scars.
Anne Sexton's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (As It Was Written by Anne Sexton )
Did you read them?
- bo-tox, lee fones
- Music The Heart's Harp Sings, Dorothy (Alves) Holmes
- Opposite Worlds, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- A Demain, Randy Resh
- A disease......, PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- Your Loving Words, Michael McParland
- Culture Of West Bengal, Asit Kumar Sanyal
- Bloomsbury Gang, Nassy Fesharaki
- Her pretty childhood, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Those visible clouds, MOHAMMAD SKATI
Poem of the Day
- Unity is Strength, S.D. TIWARI
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Wait, Galway Kinnell
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- As I Grew Older, Langston Hughes
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1927)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
- Heather Burns
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)