In the catacombs of the mind, a da… Whispers of despair echo during sl… A constant struggle rages within t… Drowning in the depths of this dar… One moment, soaring high
Ef dey 's anyt’ing dat riles me An’ jes’ gits me out o’ hitch, Twell I want to tek my coat off, So 's to r’ar an’ t’ar an’ pitch, Hit’s to see some ign’ant white ma…
Either peace or happiness, let it enfold you when I was a young man I felt these things were dumb, unsophisticated.
Grub-white mulberries redden among… I’ll go out and sit in white like… Doing nothing. July’s juice round… This park is fleshed with idiot pe… White catalpa flowers tower, toppl…
The apes yawn and adore their flea… The parrots shriek as if they were… Like cheap tarts to attract the st… Fatigued with indolence, tiger and… Lie still as the sun. The boa-con…
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
Candy Is Dandy But liquor Is quicker.
The highway is full of big cars going nowhere fast And folks is smoking anything that… Some people wrap their lies around… And you sit wondering
Up, black, striped and demasked li… At a funeral mass, the skunk’s tai… Paraded the skunk. Night after ni… I expected her like a visitor. The refrigerator whinnied into sil…
I thought it would last my time— The sense that, beyond the town, There would always be fields and f… Where the village louts could clim… Such trees as were not cut down;
The furies are at home in the mirror; it is their address… Even the clearest water, if deep enough can drown. Never think to surprise them.
All I know is a door into the dar… Outside, old axles and iron hoops… Inside, the hammered anvil’s short… The unpredictable fantail of spark… Or hiss when a new shoe toughens i…
fire under our skin ...a thin layer of fire under our skin burning as we desire to be
Atropellados por la Pampa suelta, los raudos potros en febril disput… hacen silbar sobre la sorda ruta los huracanes en su crin revuelta. Atrás dejando la llanura envuelta
Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can’t I use my wit as a pitchfork And drive the brute off? Six days of the week it soils
When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the bramb… nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching
On the sheep-cropped summit, under… The mouse crouched, staring out th… It dared not take. Time and a world Too old to alter, the five mile pr…
This is not I. I had no body once… only what served my need to laugh… and stare at stars and tentatively… on the fringe of foam and wave and… Eyes loved, hands reached for me,…
When I think about myself, I almost laugh myself to death, My life has been one great big jok… A dance that’s walked A song that’s spoke,
Abstraction is an old story with the philosophers, but it has been like a new toy in the hands of the artists of our day. Why can’t we have any one quality of poetry we choose by itself...
We wear the mask that grins and li… It shades our cheeks and hides our… This debt we pay to human guile With torn and bleeding hearts… We smile and mouth the myriad subt…
To step over the low wall that div… Road from concrete walk above the… Brings sharply back something know… The miniature gaiety of seasides. Everything crowds under the low ho…
Style is the answer to everything. A fresh way to approach a dull or… To do a dull thing with style is p… To do a dangerous thing with style… Bullfighting can be an art
On the grass when I arrive, Filling the stillness with life, But ready to scare off At the very first wrong move. In the ivy when I leave.
If I were a voice, a persuasive v… That could travel the wide world t… I would fly on the beams of the mo… And speak to men with a gentle mig… And tell them to be true.
The useless dawn finds me in a des… Nights are proud waves; darkblue t… Nights have a habit of mysterious… The surge, that night, left me the… and odd ends: some hated friends t…
The pig, if I am not mistaken; Supplies us sausage, ham, and baco… Let others say his heart is big— I call it stupid of the pig.
Go to Tibet. Ride a camel. Read the Bible. Dye your shoes blue. Grow a Beard.
The dog loved its churlish life, Scraps, thefts. Itsdeclined blood An anarchy of mindless pride. Nobody’s pet, but good enough To double with a bitch as poor.
He is here, come down to look for… It is the song that calls you back… a song of joy and suffering equally: a promise: that things will be different up t…