I?I walk alone;The midnight streetSpins itself from under my feet;My eyes shutThese dreaming houses all snuff out;Through a whim of mineOver gables the moon’s celestial onionHangs high.IMake houses shrinkAnd trees diminishBy going far; my look’s...

Aku dan dia sama dengan selamanya,” bisikmu. Dan aku pun berulangkali terperangkap dalam kulkas berisi puisipuisi setengah jadi ini.

If you put it as ‘complex nervous systems’ it sounds pretty deflationary. What’s so special about a complex nervous system? But of course, that complex nervous system allows you to do calculus. It allows you...

Rhythm must have meaning.

she stuck a bookmark in my heart and walked away

I am in awe of flowers. Not because of their colors, but because even though they have dirt in their roots, they still grow. They still bloom.

Doubt not, O poet, but persist. Say ‘It is in me, and shall out.’ Stand there, balked and dumb, stuttering and stammering, hissed and hooted, stand and strive, until at last rage draw out of...

Blood was its Avatar and its seal.

No truer word, save God’s, was ever spoken,Than that the largest heart is soonest broken.

THE SILENT PEOPLESome people are so rude,Living their lives with no concern for others,Or possibly just intent on pissing other people off-Annoying everyone around them.The silent people-Want to kill them-And drive forks into their skulls-Create...

Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.

I think the perfect pen name is Quill McSeagull. Especially for writing flights of fancy—and nothing has more feathers than a love poem.

Poetry and beautyare born out of pain.This is their glory,this is our gain.

Spring, spring! Bytuene Mershe ant Averil, when spray biginneth to spring! When shaws be sheene and swards full fayre, and leaves both large and longe! When the hounds of spring are on winter’s traces, in...

OzymandiasI met a traveller from an antique landWho said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stoneStand in the desert. Near them on the sand,Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frownAnd wrinkled lip and sneer...

Truth and effort may increase human worthBut they are not enough to make us whole;Only love can complete us.

Here dwell together still two men of note/ Who never lived and so can never die:/ How very near they seem, yet how remote/ That age before the world went all awry./ But still the...

Justice DeniedThousands of women, probably moreI cannot reach them behind justice doorsMany stay silent, barred just like me.Haunted by demons, faces unseen.Still by the hundreds, they continue to serveDuty and country, active and reserve.Thankless, forgotten...

You do not know how much they mean to me, my friends,And how, how rare and strange it is, to findIn a life composed so much, so much of odds and ends,(For indeed I do...

I’ll walk, but not in old heroic traces,And not in paths of high morality,And not among the half-distinguished faces,The clouded forms of long-past history.I’ll walk where my own nature would be leading:It vexes me to...

Don’t write with a pen. Ink tends to give the impression the words shouldn’t be changed.Write with what gives you the most sensual satisfaction.Write in a hard-covered notebook with green lined pages. Green is easy...

One need not be a Chamber — to be Haunted — One need not be a House — The Brain has Corridors — surpassing Material Place —

i have laughedmore than daffodilsand cried more than June.

Lines Written In Early SpringI heard a thousand blended notes,While in a grove I sate reclined,In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughtsBring sad thoughts to the mind.To her fair works did Nature linkThe human soul...

Yet do I marvel at this curious thing: To make a poet black, and bid him sing.

I realizedJune had never beenjust a monthmusic…never just a trembleon my lipswarmth was nevermerely a blanket.

When you are old and gray and full of sleep And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their...

I know you don’t think that any tongue I speak is mine; it must be rented. I am always denial, or pretense. A child born mid-flight has no nation. I can pull on either culture,...

sometimes i am not sure.if i am writing the poemor the poemis writing me.

Through endless night the earth whirls toward a creation unknown…

When I throw back my head and howlPeople (women mostly) sayBut you’ve always done what you want, You always get your way- A perfectly vile and foulInversion of all that’s been.What the old ratbags meanIs...

My head is full of fireand grief and my tongueruns wild, piercedwith shards of glass.

may this poetrybe the homeyou will someday come back to.

If you would hit the mark, you must aim a little above it;Every arrow that flies feels the attraction of earth.

all the wordsall the poems know my warm, soft spots.

We are only allowed to livedue to some colossal misunderstanding.

when I finally begin to driftinto sleepyour memory is the…firstand the moonlightthe last, to kiss my face.

The sublime can only be found in the great subjects. Poetry, history and philosophy all have the same object, and a very great object—Man and Nature. Philosophy describes and depicts Nature. Poetry paints and embellishes...

For my part, I love to give myself up to the illusion of poetry. A hero of fiction that never existed is just as valuable to me as a hero of history that existed a...

Defining moment in new telepathist’s life, moment when intuitive individual learns most of society isn’t telepathic, doesn’t see auras,doesn’t know what life on ethereal astral plane is like.

My art unkind, my energy all gone blind;The limbs uneven, the face shallower,Because those who I see are not seen,Those who see me are rude indeed. So blow, blow dear winter, just blow along me!

These Songs are not meant to be understood, you understand.They are only meant to terrify & comfort.

She could have wept. It was bad, it was bad, it was infinitely bad! She could have done it differently of course; the colour could have been thinned and faded; the shapes etherealised; that was...

When we lose these woods, we lose our soul. Not simply as individuals, but as a people.

Outside the youth center, between the liquor storeand the police station,a little dogwood tree is losing its mind;overflowing with blossomfoam,like a sudsy mug of beer;like a bride ripping off her clothes,dropping snow white petals to...

En fin, llego a casa. Prendo la tele. Hay una lucha de box. Escucho que alguien dice: “den una buena pelea”. Yo pienso que ninguna pelea puede ser buena y la apago. Tomo el periódico....

There can be no law of nature, no science,No aberrant infliction of human willThat unchained the soul cannot conquer,Simply sweep away, should it chose to.

Where are you hiding my love?Each day without you will never come again.Even today you missed a sunset on the ocean,A silver shadow on yellow rocks I saved for you,A squirrel that ran across the...

Demonise one of them and the sympathisers will melt away.

… It seems to me / the the great bards of the 20th century are in Publicity / those Keatses and Shelleys singing the Colgate smile / Cosmic Coca-Cola, the pause the refreshes, / the...