Anne Sexton

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

Anne Sexton Poems

81. Hornet 3/29/2010
82. The Breast 3/29/2010
83. The Fury Of Beautiful Bones 3/29/2010
84. With Mercy For The Greedy 3/29/2010
85. Ringing The Bells 3/29/2010
86. For God While Sleeping 3/29/2010
87. My Friend, My Friend 3/29/2010
88. The Twelve Dancing Princesses 3/29/2010
89. The Earth 3/29/2010
90. The Nude Swim 3/29/2010
91. In Memoriam 3/29/2010
92. The Fury Of Sunsets 3/29/2010
93. Where It Was At Back Then 3/29/2010
94. Oh 3/29/2010
95. Hurry Up Please It's Time 3/29/2010
96. Lullaby 3/29/2010
97. Dreaming The Breasts 3/29/2010
98. Mr. Mine 3/29/2010
99. The Civil War 3/29/2010
100. Mother And Daughter 3/29/2010
101. The Evil Eye 3/29/2010
102. Gods 3/29/2010
103. Knee Song 3/29/2010
104. Kind Sir: These Woods 3/29/2010
105. In Excelsis 3/29/2010
106. Going Gone 3/29/2010
107. In The Deep Museum 3/29/2010
108. More Than Myself 3/29/2010
109. The Big Heart 3/29/2010
110. Lament 3/29/2010
111. Earthworm 3/29/2010
112. Us 3/29/2010
113. The Poet Of Ignorance 3/29/2010
114. Locked Doors 3/29/2010
115. Lobster 3/29/2010
116. Doors, Doors, Doors 3/29/2010
117. The Ballad Of The Lonely Masturbator 3/29/2010
118. Red Riding Hood 3/29/2010
119. It Is A Spring Afternoon 3/29/2010
120. Love Letter Written In A Burning Building 3/29/2010

Comments about Anne Sexton

  • fleur de lys (7/25/2009 10:39:00 PM)

    She gets on my nerves too but I can't think of title 'The Awful Rowing Towards God' without smiling.

    34 person liked.
    64 person did not like.
  • Indigo Hawkins (2/15/2008 4:42:00 PM)

    Sexton gets on my nerves. A lot. Some of her witticisms are hilarious, though.

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

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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