Silence
It rises up at me,
Silence, the echoless wall,
No voice can penetrate,
Nor hear itself repeat
Itself in nervous rings.
I may not knock it down;
For then my words would drop
Senseless to the ground
Through charging on and on,
No foe to make them stop.
Page(s) 39
magazine list
- Features
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- 14
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- Ambit
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- Cannon's Mouth, The
- Chroma
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- Dream Catcher
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- Erbacce
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- French Literary Review, The
- Frogmore Papers, The
- Global Tapestry
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- Homeless Diamonds
- Interpreter's House, The
- Iota
- Journal, The
- Lamport Court
- London Magazine, The
- Magma
- Matchbox
- Matter
- Modern Poetry in Translation
- Monkey Kettle
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- North, The
- Oasis
- Obsessed with pipework
- Orbis
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- Painted, spoken
- Paper, The
- Pen Pusher Magazine
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- Poetry London (1951)
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- Poetry Salzburg Review
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- Private Tutor
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- Rialto, The
- Second Aeon
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- Shearsman
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- Staple
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- Tabla Book of New Verse, The
- Thumbscrew
- Tolling Elves
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- Weyfarers
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