What a skeletal wreck of man this is.Translucent flesh and feeble bones,the kind of temple where the whores and villains try to tempt the holistic domes.Running rampid with free thought to free form, and the...

True storyThis morning I jumped on my horseAnd went for a ride,And some wild outlaws chased meAnd shot me in the side.So I crawled into a wildcats caveTo find a place to hideBut some pirates...

Dreams like a podcast,Downloading truth in my ears.They tell me cool stuff.””Apollo?” I guess, because I figured nobody else could make a haiku that bad.He put his finger to his lips. “I’m incognito. Call me...

Sensuality came into existence the moment when the first beat of melody knocked on the door of the world of belly dance.

Sacred space in whichTo distil, like amber,The best of your love.

A fox will chew off its own foot before it calls for helpBut he saw glory in being a bird with broken wings And therefore he broke his own to fit into that illusion of...

I’m alone with the ghost of the swamp, somewhere near the weeping willows.

Our past sins, our fractured lives–soon nothing but drowned stars in dark skies.

My child, I know you’re not a childBut I still see you running wildBetween those flowering trees.Your sparkling dreams, your silver laughYour wishes to the stars above Are just my memories.And in your eyes the...

when I am feelinglowall i have to do iswatch my catsand mycouragereturns

sometimes all we need to be able to continue aloneare the deadrattling the wallsthat close us in.

I wanted to write the most beautiful poem but that is impossible; the world has written its own.

my subconscious so full it must spill over

… Fourier’s great mathematical poem …{Referring to Joseph Fourier’s mathematical theory of the conduction of heat, one of the precursors to thermodynamics.}

The enemy came to steel,destroy and kill our leader, our hero Steve Biko. He was chosen by God and no one can deny that.

Sudahkah kau minum puisimu hari ini?

FRIENDSLooking out the window, I see you looking in.You are the sunshine,That fills my soul.

Green and living jewels drip into my eyes” from the poem “All Green and Living Things” in the book “Terra Affirmative

Variación / VariationsEl remanso de airebajo la rama del eco.El remanso del aguabajo fronda de luceros.El remanso de tu bocabajo espesura de besos.*The still waters of the airunder the bough of the echo.The still waters...

There is something about a bureaucrat that does not like a poem.

Dear Lover…you are the only man, who never hurt me, but broke my heart.

The way you walk is slash and burn.Like understatement’s now a crime.

Very Like a WhaleOne thing that literature would be greatly the better forWould be a more restricted employment by authors of simile and metaphor.Authors of all races, be they Greeks, Romans, Teutons or Celts,Can’ts seem...

On the edge of dreaming when the brain lets go, when it stops its scheming, our blood runs slow… Then the heart speaks clearly of the things it knows, things it brought so dearly at...

Nothingness…there in this placewhere nothingness takesbut for the glimmera steadfast shimmerall would be consumed…

Do You BelieveDo you believethat I have loved yousince the dawn of time?Do you believethat we were destinedto be intertwined?…

There are some griefs so loudThey could bring down the sky,And there are griefs so stillNone knows how deep they lie,Endured, never expended.There are old griefs so proudThey never speak a word;They never can be...

If I were dead, I wouldn’t be sad, and I wouldn’t be glad, because I wouldn’t be.

If only you would realize some day, how much have you hurt me,If only your heart ever, craves for me or my presence…If only you feel that love again someday for me,If only you are...

It is December, and nobody asked if I was ready.

Perfect…as it was, it had to be, andlittle dreams were spinning madlyas a flock of birds in mid-flight, thesingle vision of a single moment, a singlemoment, frozen in time no more. No moredid he need,...

A poet is somebody who has written a poem.

Larry’s such a liar—He tells outrageous lies.He says he’s ninety-nine years oldInstead of only five.He says he lives up on the moon,He says that he once flew.He says he’s really six feet fourInstead of three...

Too lazy to be ambitious,I let the world take care of itself.Ten days’ worth of rice in my bag;a bundle of twigs by the fireplace.Why chatter about delusion and enlightenment?Listening to the night rain on...

Dance provides the spirit with energy to survive from its confinement in the mortal frame.

See mirror, every time you will miss me and look deeper into your eyes till you will find me.

Let us have no guiltLeft to wasteFor dreaming still.

And then I realized—,”which is the part of stories one never quite believes.I had the idea that the world’s so full of painit must sometimes make a kind of singing.And that the sequence helps, as...

We don’t know how to say goodbye,We wander on, shoulder to shoulderAlready the sun is going downYou’re moody, and I am your shadow.Let’s step inside a church, hear prayers, masses for the deadWhy are we...

No rest without love, no sleep without dreams of love- be mad or chill obsessed with angels or machines, the final wish is love -cannot be bitter, cannot deny,cannot withhold if denied: the weight is...

when I drive the freeways I see the soul of humanity ofmy city and it’s ugly, ugly, ugly: the living have choked theheartaway.

There are so many things to say; so many things that can’t really be said. So much has happened; so little has changed. We have so many words prepared; so many words are too hard...

I beg you, help me, in angelic charity,Pray my efforts will reflect your mastery!

PoemWords from the heartBreaking, teaching, healingThe deepest, purest form of artFeeling

Your mind couldn’t rest like the other little boys. You looked around and you saw the blanket of fear covered the whole country.

Write it as easy as you think about the difficulty

I want to learn the language of the sun, and burn Agatha’s eyes out with my love poems.

I am the red wheelbarrow of communism. William Carlos Williams wrote a poem about me.

Parting is all we know of Heaven,and all we need of Hell.

We are only allowed to livedue to some colossal misunderstanding.