#CanadianWriters
The birds they sang at the break of day Start again I heard them say Don’t dwell on what
Poetry is just the evidence of lif…
I loved you in the morning, our ki… your hair upon the pillow like a s… yes, many loved before us, I know… in city and in forest they smiled… but now it’s come to distances and…
I went down to the place Where I knew she lay waiting Under the marble and the snow I said, Mother I’m frightened The thunder and the lightning
I’ve worked at my work I’ve slept at my sleep I’ve died at my death and now I can leave. Leave what is needed
My lady can sleep Upon a handkerchief Or if it be Fall Upon a fallen leaf. I have seen the hunters
Out of the thousands who are known or want to be known… maybe one or two are genuine and the rest are fakes, hanging around the sacred precinct…
Everybody knows that the dice are… Everybody rolls with their fingers… Everybody knows that the war is ov… Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixe…
It’s true that all the men you kne… who said they were through with de… Every time you gave them shelter I know that kind of man It’s hard to hold the hand of anyo…
Ah we’re drinking and we’re dancin… and the band is really happening and the Johnny Walker wisdom runn… And my very sweet companion she’s the Angel of Compassion
If you want a lover I’ll do anything you ask me to And if you want another kind of lo… I’ll wear a mask for you If you want a partner
Now in Vienna there’s ten pretty… There’s a shoulder where Death co… There’s a lobby with nine hundred… There’s a tree where the doves go… There’s a piece that was torn from…
If it be your will That I speak no more And my voice be still As it was before I will speak no more
Suddenly the night has grown colde… The god of love preparing to depar… Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder, They slip between the sentries of… Upheld by the simplicities of plea…
Come over to the window, my little… I’d like to try to read your palm. I used to think I was some kind o… before I let you take me home. Now so long, Marianne, it’s time…