Anne Sexton

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

Anne Sexton Poems

41. The Double Image 3/29/2010
42. Lament 3/29/2010
43. The Kite 3/29/2010
44. Letter Written On A Ferry While Crossing Long Island Sound 3/29/2010
45. The Moss Of His Skin 3/29/2010
46. The Fury Of Flowers And Worms 3/29/2010
47. Lullaby 3/29/2010
48. The Assassin 3/29/2010
49. What's That 3/29/2010
50. The Breast 3/29/2010
51. The Other 3/29/2010
52. My Friend, My Friend 3/29/2010
53. The Death Baby 3/29/2010
54. Woman With Girdle 3/29/2010
55. The Firebombers 3/29/2010
56. The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts 3/29/2010
57. The Big Boots Of Pain 3/29/2010
58. Said The Poet To The Analyst 3/29/2010
59. The Fury Of Abandonment 3/29/2010
60. The Break 3/29/2010
61. In The Deep Museum 3/29/2010
62. Wallflower 3/29/2010
63. The Waiting Head 3/29/2010
64. The Fury Of Rain Storms 3/29/2010
65. The Fury Of Sunrises 3/29/2010
66. Menstruation At Forty 3/29/2010
67. Kind Sir: These Woods 3/29/2010
68. Oh 3/29/2010
69. The Earth 3/29/2010
70. Hurry Up Please It's Time 3/29/2010
71. Elizabeth Gone 3/29/2010
72. Rowing 3/29/2010
73. Hornet 3/29/2010
74. Red Roses 3/29/2010
75. That Day 3/29/2010
76. The Civil War 3/29/2010
77. The Fury Of Beautiful Bones 3/29/2010
78. With Mercy For The Greedy 3/29/2010
79. The Gold Key 3/29/2010
80. Old 3/29/2010

Comments about Anne Sexton

  • Anne Sexton (11/30/2017 5:48:00 AM)

    She was fucking mental but I love her.

    10 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • Russ B (11/23/2016 5:27:00 AM)

    Some people can be extremely judgemental and by being so miss entirely the whole point of the bigger picture. Anne Sexton was a brilliant poet and wrote many excellent pieces of poetry and at close of day it is the poetry that really matters.

  • Stephen W (7/27/2016 5:34:00 AM)

    Read her bio. She was a crazy person. They say she is 'modern model of a poet. This is very sad. Poetry does not have to be about madness. Lunacy is what it is. It's not poetic, just horrible suffering.

  • Lindsay Macdonald (2/7/2016 1:06:00 PM)

    Her words are simply breathtaking. It is confessionalism, said plainly in its truest form without ever being meaningless.

  • Lydia Kim (11/29/2014 6:29:00 PM)

    She's so eloquent and her words have such a pure depth. They're so honest and neither said with good nor bad intentions. Anne Sexton will live on in me and I'm sure in many others.

  • S B (5/5/2014 5:48:00 PM)

    Has many beautiful poems written, pointing out one of my favorites, Red Roses

  • Franko Macan (3/4/2014 6:37:00 AM)

    Red Roses, was the first of Anne's poems I ever read. A powerful emoatinal peices comparable to Paula Meehan's poem about her dead Mother.
    It helped me embark on a story of my life, which Ihope to have publishes, which includes childhood psychological and emoational abuse leading to bouts of adult Schizophrenia, and many other issues. Thanks Anne where ever you are; hopefully with the other great pure of hearts too good for this world, like Elvis. To me you were the Elvis of poetry. Out there in a league of your own: the Queen of poets, giving many lesser mortals like me inspiration.

  • Thomas Revitt (8/31/2013 9:34:00 PM)

    45 Mercy Street is one of the great American poems. It reflects American every day life and individual loneliness and loss, and it captures them both almost in the same line.

  • Samanthia Moore Samanthia Moore (6/25/2013 3:19:00 PM)

    I really like anne saxton, she is a really good writter. besides what critics think of her i think shes amazing.

  • Kevin Patrick Kevin Patrick (11/28/2012 10:16:00 PM)

    A fabulous poet, her use of language is commanding, Anne was a modern poet who did not use any of the clichés of pretentious Victorianism, her subjects are tough and emotional, she talks about the dark side because she lived in the dark side and you will never get a better depiction of depression then from this woman.

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 -
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

After Auschwitz

as black as a hook,
overtakes me.
Each day,
each Nazi
took, at 8: 00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan.

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