Rosemary Tonks Poems
|1.||Epoch Of The Hotel Corridor||5/8/2014|
|2.||The Little Cardboard Suitcase||5/8/2014|
|3.||An Old-Fashioned Traveller On The Trade Routes||5/8/2014|
|4.||The Ice-Cream Room Towns||5/8/2014|
|6.||The Sash Window||5/8/2014|
|8.||Black Kief And The Intellectual||5/8/2014|
|9.||To A Certain Young Man||5/8/2014|
|10.||Orpheus In Soho||5/8/2014|
|11.||The Sofas, Fogs, And Cinemas||5/8/2014|
|12.||The Desert Wind Elite||5/8/2014|
|13.||Song Of The October Wind||5/8/2014|
|15.||Addiction To An Old Mattress||5/8/2014|
|16.||A Few Sentences Away||5/12/2014|
|17.||Badly Chosen Lover||5/8/2014|
|18.||Story Of A Hotel Room||5/8/2014|
|20.||The Drinkers Of Coffee||5/8/2014|
Comments about Rosemary Tonks
The Drinkers Of Coffee
We talk openly, and exchange souls.
Power-shocks of understanding knock us off our feet!
The same double life among the bores and vegetables,
By lamplight in the coffee-houses you have sat it out
Half toad, half sultan, of the rubbish-heap,
You know the dealy dull excitement; the champage sleet
Of living; you know all the kitchen details of my ego's thinking,
When, with our imaginations shuddering.
We move arrogantly into one another's power,
And the last barriers go down between us....
More at home in a jazz pit than with you,
Hotter on the Baltic, ...
The Sash Window
Outside that house, I stood like a dog;
The window was mysterious, with its big, dull pane
Where the mud pastes are thrown by dark, alkaline skies
That glide slowly along, keeping close to the ground.
- But for the raging disgust which shook me
So that my throat was scratched by her acid
(Whose taste is the true Latin of culture) -