STRANGERS drawn from the ends… I was Lord of the Inca race, and… Under the stars beyond our stars w… Hotly we stormed Valhalla, a mill… Ever 'neath high Valhalla Hall th…
though our longest sun sets at rig… makes but winter arches, it cannot be long before we lie do… have our light in ashes. . . Browne, Urn Burial
Our shells clacked on the plates. My tongue was a filling estuary, My palate hung with starlight: As I tasted the salty Pleiades Orion dipped his foot into the wat…
Courage isn’t a brilliant dash, A daring deed in a moment’s flash; It isn’t an instantaneous thing Born of despair with a sudden spri… It isn’t a creature of flickered h…
What is reality? I am a plaster doll; I pose with eyes that cut open without la… upon some shellacked and grinning… eyes that open, blue, steel, and c…
I was a bum in San Francisco but… to go to a symphony concert along… and the music was good but somethi… audience was not and something about the orchestra
At this moment in time, we’d like to invite First Class passengers only to board the aircraft. We now extend our invitation to Exclusive, Superior, Privilege and Excelsior members, foll...
More and more frequently the edges of me dissolve and I become a wish to assimilate the world, in… you, if possible through the skin like a cool plant’s tricks with ox…
A shilling life will give you all… How Father beat him, how he ran a… What were the struggles of his you… Made him the greatest figure of hi… Of how he fought, fished, hunted,…
Happy ye leaves when as those lill… Which hold my life in their dead d… Shall handle you and hold in loves… Lyke captives trembling at the vic… And happy lines, on which with sta…
Let others pray for the passenger… the dodo, the whooping crane, the… everyone must specialize I will confine myself to a meditat… upon the giant tortoises
My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hum… equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there t… Here the clam deep in the speckled…
If I were called in To construct a religion I should make use of water. Going to church Would entail a fording
You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your kn… for a hundred miles through the de… You only have to let the soft anim… love what it loves.
Let me tell you a little story About Miss Edith Gee; She lived in Clevedon Terrace At number 83. She’d a slight squint in her left…
I come from a musical place Where they shoot me for my song And my brother has been tortured By my brother in my land. I come from a beautiful place
My fancies are fireflies, — Specks of living light twinkling in the dark. he voice of wayside pansies, that do not attract the careless g…
Grey haunted eyes, absent-mindedly… From wide, uneven orbits; one brow… Somewhat over the eye Because of a missile fragment stil… Skin-deep, as a foolish record of…
My man is Black Golden Amber Cha… Warm mouths of Brandy Fine Cautious sunlight on a patterned r… Coughing laughter, rocked on a whi… Graceful turns on woolen stilts S…
Unhappy about some far off things That are not my affair, wandering Along the coast and up the lean ri… I saw in the evening The stars go over the lonely ocean…
Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars of light,
Being told I would be expected to talk here, I inquired what sort of talk I ought to make. They said it should be something suitable to youth-something didactic, instructive, or somethi...
the time is always now we have come to the threshold we take off our footwear socks and all bare feet we stood we leave behind the door
Don’t bother me. I’ve just been born. The butterfly’s loping flight carries it through the country of…
Fighting Struggling Achieving Empowering Manifesting
On a summer morning I sat down on a hillside to think about God – a worthy pastime.
Some say love’s a little boy, And some say it’s a bird, Some say it makes the world go aro… Some say that’s absurd, And when I asked the man next—doo…
Scatterghost, it can’t float away. And the rain, everybody’s brother, won’t help. And the wind all these… flying like ten crazy sisters ever…
My stick fingers click with a snic… And, chuckling, they knuckle the k… Light-footed, my steel feelers fli… And pluck from these keys melodies… My paper can caper; abandon
When my dreams showed signs of becoming politically correct no unruly images escaping beyond borders