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Poems By Poet Anthony Weir  3/1/2015 6:57:21 PM
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  Best Poems From
  ANTHONY WEIR (13th September 1941)
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All Souls Day, Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val

Here in the graveyard
the rotting corpses lie.
Children depress me.
But it cheers me up to know
that I and they will die.
Anthony Weir



As a Dream of a Night Vision

Because I look from outside out
terrified to look from inside in
I seem to come to life through burglary.

Puppet deliberately tangling my strings
so as to have to cut them,
I might thus fall from
rτle not to reality but grace
belongingness beyond longing
affinity beyond sex
conviviality beyond consumingness
of fire where spiders burn
and webs transmute to puppet-strings.

Because I take and take to things
things which I make magically
execute me
and I am only questioning and doubt
looking ineluctably from outside out.
Anthony Weir



Asperger meets Alzheimer

Every army is edible -
just fry or boil or bake.
In the Bar des Abattoirs
we talk about Fast Food
and churches, the mindless
wondrousness and relentless
logical absurdity of nature,
and pubic-genital tattoos.
I, le chien manquι, never lie
and never lock my house.
Nearing my demise,
the dirty emptiness of life behind me,
the pure nothingness of death in front,
the inexpensive Bar des Abattoirs
is my chosen nursing-home.

I don't know what age
I am, am of -
I share nothing with women or men
and dislike cities, loathe pubs.
Thinking of death and the error
of being human, I am the bearer
of unwelcome wisdom,
an angry ghost among the shrubs.

God's name is Frankenstein.
We are his monsters.
Anthony Weir




The sea constantly
ceaselessly conjugates
the verb 'to murmur'
sometimes very loudly
sometimes so quietly
that it's barely a rumour

And the white juices
from black forces
and it conjugates 'to murmur'
lovingly and cold
cold and passionate
violent and cold

So we are told
who only dream the sea
desiring it dreamingly
seeming to be awake
and just out of reach
on the small fragile beach

where the shadows flap and shake.
Anthony Weir
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kiss poems
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war poems
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Poems By Poet Anthony Weir