Be With Me In The Phases Of My Work Because My Brain Feels Like It Has Been Whipped And I Yearn To Make A Small Perfect Thing Which Will Live In Your Morning Like Curious...

Blessed are you who circled desire with a blade, and the garden with fiery swords, and heaven and earth with a word.

Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash.

If I spelled out the Principles of FaithI would be barking on the moon.

Friend, when you speak this carefully I know it is because you don’t know what to say.

Though I love your company, your instructions are wasted her. I will always choose the woman who caries me off, I will always sit with the family of loneliness.

It was a dance of masks and every mask was perfect because every mask was a real face and every face was areal mask so there was no mask and there was no face for...

Remember when I moved in you and the holy dove was moving too, and every breath we drew was, “Hallelujah.

Dear friend, I have searched all nightthrough each burnt paper,but I fear I will never findthe formula to let you die

Yo no sé nada de amor, pero algo como el amor arrancó de mi garganta, con mil anzuelos, las siguientes palabras: -PORQUE TE NECESITO, F.

There is a crack in everything.That’s how the light gets in.

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof…

How quickly pettiness returns, and that most ignoble form of real estate, the possessive occupation and tyranny over two square inches of human flesh, the wife’s cunt.

It is easy to display a wound, the proud scars of combat. It is hard to show a pimple

first of all nothing will happen and a little laternothing will happen again

I know she is coming I know she will look And that is the longing And this is the book.

Believe nothing of meexcept that I felt your beautymore closely than my own.

My animal howlsMy angel’s upsetBut I’m not allowedA trace of regret

Deprivation is the mother of poetry.

There is a crack in everything

Reality is one of the possibilities I cannot afford to ignore

I loved you when you opened like a lily to the heat; you see I’m just another snowman standing in the rain and sleet who loved you with his frozen love, his second hand physique,...

I heard of a manwho says words so beautifullythat if he only speaks their namewomen give themselves to him.If I am dumb beside your bodywhile silence blossoms like tumors on our lipsit is because I...

and what is more you have the correct attitude You don’t care if it ends or if it goes on And as for the women and the music there will be plenty of that in...

Ett ärr är vad som uppstår när ordet blir kött.

At first first nothing will happen to usand later on it will happen to us again.

Ah, grief makes us precise!

Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as a secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.

Who could have foretoldthe heart grows oldfrom touching others

Ring the bells that still can ring Forget your perfect offering There is a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in.

Sexuality is general, and although only one man may be receiving the favors of a woman, all men in her presence are warm. That’s the great generosity of women and the great generosity of the...

I walk through the old yellow sunlightto get to my kitchen tablethe poem about melying there with the booksin which I am listedamong the dead and future Dylans

And may my bronze name / touch always her thousand fingers / grow brighter with her weeping / until I am fixed like a galaxy / and memorized / in her secret and fragile skies.

And I’ll dance with you in Vienna,I’ll be wearing a river’s disguise.The hyacinth wild on my shouldermy mouth on the dew of your thighs.And I’ll bury my soul in a scrapbook,with the photographs there and...

You should gofrom place to placerecovering the poemsthat have been written for youto which you can affix your signature.Don’t discuss these matterswith anyone.Retrieve. Retrieve.When the basket is fullsomeone will appearto whom you can present it.

so much of the world is plunged in darkness and chaos…So ring the bells that still can ringForget your perfect offeringThere is a crack in everythingThat’s how the light gets in.

Blessed is the covenant of love, the covenant of mercy, useless light behind the terror, deathless song in the house of night.

… i didn’t fall in love of courseit’s never up to youbut she was walking back and forthand i was passing through

Show me slowly what I onlyknow the limits ofDance me to the end of love