Anne Sexton

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

Anne Sexton Poems

41. The Fury Of God's Good-Bye 3/29/2010
42. The Moss Of His Skin 3/29/2010
43. The Assassin 3/29/2010
44. What's That 3/29/2010
45. That Day 3/29/2010
46. Old 3/29/2010
47. The Play 3/29/2010
48. The Fury Of Sunrises 3/29/2010
49. The Other 3/29/2010
50. The Fury Of Hating Eyes 3/29/2010
51. The Earth Falls Down 3/29/2010
52. The Death Baby 3/29/2010
53. The Farmer's Wife 3/29/2010
54. To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph 3/29/2010
55. The Doctor Of The Heart 3/29/2010
56. The Death King 3/29/2010
57. The Big Boots Of Pain 3/29/2010
58. Said The Poet To The Analyst 3/29/2010
59. Red Roses 3/29/2010
60. Letter Written On A Ferry While Crossing Long Island Sound 3/29/2010
61. The Gold Key 3/29/2010
62. The Wifebeater 3/29/2010
63. Wallflower 3/29/2010
64. The Room Of My Life 3/29/2010
65. The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts 3/29/2010
66. The Double Image 3/29/2010
67. The Evil Seekers 3/29/2010
68. When Man Enters Woman 3/29/2010
69. The Exorcists 3/29/2010
70. The Frog Prince 3/29/2010
71. The Inventory Of Goodbye 3/29/2010
72. Small Wire 3/29/2010
73. The Children 3/29/2010
74. Star-Nosed Mole 3/29/2010
75. The Fury Of Flowers And Worms 3/29/2010
76. The Consecrating Mother 3/29/2010
77. The Red Dance 3/29/2010
78. The Ambition Bird 3/29/2010
79. Elizabeth Gone 3/29/2010
80. Rowing 3/29/2010

Comments about Anne Sexton

  • 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.

    22 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • 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 (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.

  • Kaye Rose (5/7/2012 7:22:00 PM)

    Anne Sexton is my absolute favorite poet. She wasn't ever afraid to tackle a subject and I admire that; it's a mystery what might have come from her had she not committed suicide. We lost some great work most likely due to that.

  • Cherie Chetyrbok (2/21/2012 12:39:00 AM)

    Excellent poet. One of my All-Time favorites.

  • Amy Marie Amy Marie (12/19/2010 3:43:00 PM)

    I love her style. I recently made her one of my three favorite poets :)

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

The Kiss

My mouth blooms like a cut.
I've been wronged all year, tedious
nights, nothing but rough elbows in them
and delicate boxes of Kleenex calling crybaby
crybaby, you fool!

Before today my body was useless.
Now it's tearing at its square corners.
It's tearing old Mary's garments off, knot by knot

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