Muriel Rukeyser

(December 15, 1913 – February 12, 1980 / New York City)

Muriel Rukeyser Poems

1. Waterlily Fire 12/15/2011
2. The Speaking Tree 12/15/2011
3. The Road 12/15/2011
4. Then I Saw What The Calling Was 12/15/2011
5. The Poem As Mask 12/15/2011
6. From A Play: Publisher's Song 12/15/2011
7. Waiting For Icarus 12/15/2011
8. Song 10/16/2015
9. Ajanta 4/22/2010
10. George Robinson: Blues 12/15/2011
11. Haying Before Storm 4/22/2010
12. Gauley Bridge 12/15/2011
13. Absalom 12/15/2011
14. Drunken Girl 12/15/2011
15. Poem 12/15/2011
16. Despisals 12/15/2011
17. Akiba 12/15/2011
18. The Disease 12/15/2011
19. The Book Of The Dead 12/15/2011
20. Orgy 12/15/2011
21. Seventh Avenue 12/15/2011
22. Painters 12/15/2011
23. Myth 12/15/2011
24. Metaphor To Action 12/15/2011
25. [murmurs From The Earth Of This Land] 12/15/2011
26. Elegy In Joy 12/15/2011
27. Boy With His Hair Cut Short 4/22/2010
28. Night Feeding 12/15/2011
29. The Conjugation Of The Paramecium 1/20/2003
30. 26-1-1939 12/15/2011
31. Reading Time: 1 Minute 26 Seconds 12/15/2011
32. St. Roach 1/20/2003

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Best Poem of Muriel Rukeyser

St. Roach

For that I never knew you, I only learned to dread you,
for that I never touched you, they told me you are filth,
they showed me by every action to despise your kind;
for that I saw my people making war on you,
I could not tell you apart, one from another,
for that in childhood I lived in places clear of you,
for that all the people I knew met you by
crushing you, stamping you to death, they poured boiling
water on you, they flushed you down,
for that I could not tell one from another
only that you were dark, fast on your feet, and slender.
Not like ...

Read the full of St. Roach


In the cave with a long-ago flare
a woman stands, her arms up. Red twig, black twig, brown twig.
A wall of leaping darkness over her.
The men are out hunting in the early light
But here in this flicker, one or two men, painting
and a woman among them.
Great living animals grow on the stone walls,
their pelts, their eyes, their sex, their hearts,
and the cave-painters touch them with life, red, brown, black,

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