In The End The Words Are The All And The Nothing.
If spirit is the seed, dance is the water of its evolution.
I was born with my eyes turned inward.
Her silhouette never has regrets.
He was a poet -oh all men are when they’re in love.
Poets are soldiers that liberate words from the steadfast possession of definition.
I walk with a dual longing for life and for death.
No one ever was a great poet, that applied himself much to anything else.
Democracy! Bah! When I hear that I reach for my feather boa!
One has to commit a painting,’ said Degas,’the way one commits a crime.
You cannot deny the struggle; the struggle denies you.
If I’m writing, at least I don’t feel as paralyzed.
I have wished you something None of the others would….
This was but a prelude; where books are burnt human-beings will be burnt in the end
Any hand can condem, but it takes a helping hand to build.
The poet produces the beautiful by fixing his attention on something real.
Do Not Sell My Personal Information
Exercise your consumer rights by contacting us below Privacy Policy
Personalized advertisements
Turning this off will opt you out of personalized advertisements delivered from Google on this website.