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The jaws' hooked clamp and fangs Not to be changed at this date A life subdued to its instrument.

Ted Hughes

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Ted Hughes
Age: 68 †
Born: 1930
Born: August 17
Died: 1998
Died: October 28
Astrologer
Author
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Translator
Writer
Edward James Hughes
Ted Hughes
Jaws
Fangs
Hooked
Date
Instrument
Instruments
Changed
Clamp
Life
Subdued

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The wolf is living for the earth.
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So the self under the eye lies, Attendant and withdrawn.
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Nobody wanted your dance, Nobody wanted your strange glitter, your floundering Drowning life and your effort to save yourself, Treading water, dancing the dark turmoil, Looking for something to give.
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The Shell The sea fills my ear with sand and with fear. You may wash out the sand, but never the sound of the ghost of the sea that is haunting me.
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Stilled legendary depth: It was as deep as England. It held Pike too immense to stir, so immense and old That past nightfall I dared not cast.
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The world's decay where the wind's hands have passed, And my head, worn out with love, at rest In my hands, and my hands full of dust.
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What’s writing really about? It’s about trying to take fuller possession of the reality of your life.
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Nobody knew the Iron Man had fallen. Night passed.
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It took the whole of Creation To produce my foot, my each feather: Now I hold Creation in my foot. Or fly up, and revolve it all slowly - I kill where I please because it is all mine. There is no sophistry in my body: My manners are tearing off heads - The allotment of death.
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You are who you choose to be.
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This house has been far out at sea all night, The woods crashing through darkness, the booming hills, Winds stampeding the fields under the window Floundering black astride and blinding wet Till day rose then under an orange sky The hills had new places, and wind wielded Blade-light, luminous black and emerald, Flexing like the lens of a mad eye.
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I shall also take you forth and carve our names together in a yew tree, haloed with stars.
Ted Hughes
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where are the gods the gods hate us the gods have run away the gods have hidden in holes the gods are dead of the plague they rot and stink too there never were any gods there’s only death
Ted Hughes
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What happened casually remains -
Ted Hughes
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The brassy wood-pigeons Bubble their colourful voices, and the sun Rises upon a world well-tried and old.
Ted Hughes
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He was his own leftover, the spat-out scrag. He was what his brain could make nothing of.
Ted Hughes
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The Iron Man came to the top of the cliff. How far had he walked? Nobody knows. Where did he come from? Nobody knows. How was he made? Nobody knows. Taller than a house the Iron Man stood at the top of the cliff, at the very brink, in the darkness.
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The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldly enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all.
Ted Hughes
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Do as you like with me. I'm your parcel. I have only our address on me. Open me, or readdress me.
Ted Hughes
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The inmost spirit of poetry, in other words, is at bottom, in every recorded case, the voice of pain – and the physical body, so to speak, of poetry, is the treatment by which the poet tries to reconcile that pain with the world.
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