…my heart is a desolate field over which geese vee, the sky turns and the days lie fallow…

…little children adore me – I’m a Troll Tamer and they know it!…

… only a seer or a lover would know that I’m making a jewelry of words for you -drawn from your essence -to flash and burn with your fire -so you can bedazzle with your...

…the best way to forgive someone is to enter into their sufferings …

…ambition or contentment? This simple question led me back to a more balanced view of life and put me in touch with the Me I used to know…

……and not out of fear or loneliness, but only to find myself again… for we have come too far my Life, to turn back now…

all day long, one storm then another—and I take your hands like gentle flowers that blossom into awareness

…true authority is not based on control – it’s based on truth…

…the magic of love runs at cross purposes with the rhythm of living…

…I worship at the temple of your body and without you, I’d have no art…

…no good writing flows from a polluted well – you can write about monsters, but you can’t be one…

…it’s not the stories – it’s the pain and the joy and the people who stay with you long after the stories are told …

…I deliberately spilled the black ink of despair because my perfect soul was a stained glass illusion – can you understand that?…

…poetry is paying attention to life when all the world seems asleep to its beauties and truths…

…love is suffering – that’s the happy ending…

…don’t settle for pap – our thoughts wander through eternity – experience the wonder of being alive…

… only darkened trails of rain could paint your face upon a pane…

…loving a fairy lady with a magic song will leave you desolate on a cold hillside … but from there you can see the stars…

…our monsters walk the dark pathways of secret motives…

…Use your finger to trace the scar upon my chest- I lied – it wasn’t a knife wound, but a scrape from a nail sliding under a fence to see you…

…it’s good to know wave and particle alpha code, but more than that, the writer must go to the heart of life …

Your skin is transparent as distilled moonlight

…you listen first with the ears – then, you wait and listen for what your heart feels – then you consider what they’ve said – then, you reply …

…all this time I’ve been worshiping you – when other men wanted to kiss you, I’ve been offering the praise of my lips…

…the wind has a purpose – to rattle the window panes, disturb the cat and make me miss you …

…nobody ever takes from the desert anything but aridity and monsters…

…when I was a kid, Toronto streets were deserted and quiet on Sundays, except for the sound of church bells I stood on the sidewalk one December listening to the Christmas bells – I’ve never...

…authority is the unmistakeable tone in the voice of a true writer…

…I’m the last person to ask about unrequited love – I’ve run away to the Moon and fled to its valleys…

…if you want your own distinctive voice, you first have to become someone…

…that icy glass reduces your beauty – dims your fire – let me be your mirror…

…I’ve known damnable beauty – the turgid pull of swirling blackness – but in the end, it’s futile – purity alone redeems…

…you can be talented as a wolf is breathtakingly fierce…silver and gray, like smoke in the trees – but what do you do with terrible beauty?…

The soul is healed by being with children.” …

…good words – that triumphalism of positivity- but life will claw and eat you – chew you over and over – if you carry such a small knife …

put out the candles with your fire—I’m on fire

…to know an other’s interior life you are his confessor or a writer – the one is admitted freely, the other intrudes by discerning of spirits

…I pluck every day from my sweater or chair, red hairs…strands of significance, traces of you in my life …

…when people oppose your view, you can become a lightning rod, but if I were you, I’d let them stew…

…if you’re an artist, you’ve submitted to authority…

…yes I understand your spells—your sex magic—at least, I know this: all lights dim when you walk in…

…when I chose you, I didn’t want the commonplace – I didn’t want a ‘partner’ – I wanted a shrine…

…the wet brush of snowflakes was like your kisses everywhere …

…I see more pathology in others than I did ten years ago – the older I get, the more insane people seem…

…I’m innocent still -inside me are stained glass windows that have never been broken- and when I see your light it stains my soul with color …

This will be a winter so desolate, only memory can fill the emptiness

…the real absurdity is that to love is to suffer, but the reverse isn’t always true…

…I didn’t want you flawless – I have a bare wall at home that’s flawless – I wanted your character trapped in the amber of your skin…

…you can have a dark heart and be a writer, but you can’t have a black one..

…you ask me why I compare you to stars – it’s simple – that’s where your goddess has fled…