Either peace or happiness, let it enfold you when I was a young man I felt these things were dumb, unsophisticated.
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.
Candy Is Dandy But liquor Is quicker.
The sun has come. The mist has gone. We see in the distance... our long way home. I was always yours to have.
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…
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...
Undefined... This will always be my definition.… I want to be more than a career, A job will soon be what seems to d… But I am more than what this show…
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 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…
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…
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,
I know someone who kisses the way a flower opens, but more rapidly. Flowers are sweet. They have short, beatific lives. They offer much pleasure. There is
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…
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…
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.
becoming whispered by the sea breeze the valley of the fireflies by the… where the emerald tapestry of history beckons a sanctuary
She died in the upstairs bedroom By the light of the ev’ning star That shone through the plate glass… From over Leamington Spa Beside her the lonely crochet
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…
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.
An escape from the pain Someplace soft to fall When the world knocks me down And the ground is hard. Decorated by the hearts
I climbed through woods in the hou… Evil air, a frost-making stillness… Not a leaf, not a bird,— A world cast in frost. I came out… Where my breath left tortuous stat…
Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love.
Two roads diverged in a yellow woo… And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I c… To where it bent in the undergrowt…
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
One feather is a bird, I claim; one tree, a wood; In her low voice I heard More than a mortal should; And so I stood apart,
you won’t see them often for wherever the crowd is they are not. those odd ones, not
When the blackberries hang swollen in the woods, in the bramb… nobody owns, I spend all day among the high branches, reaching