Im looking for a girl who’s fun to be around.

All poets are religious poets.

When there’s a moon the shadows in the house grow larger;invisible hands draw back the curtains,a pallid finger writes forgotten words on dustof the piano…

I nodded, trying to imagine the very particular sadness of a vanished childhood yogurt now found only in France. It was a very special sort of sadness, individual, and in its inability to induce sympathy,...

She was a Phantom of delightWhen first she gleam’d upon my sight;A lovely Apparition, sentTo be a moment’s ornament:Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair;But all things else about her...

The kind of poem I produced in those days was hardly anything more than a sign I made of being alive, of passing or having passed, or hoping to pass, through certain intense human emotions....

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,But often, in the din of strife,There rises an unspeakable desireAfter the knowledge of our buried life;A thirst to spend our fire and restless forceIn tracking out our...

I went out to the hazel woodbecause a fire was in my headcut and peeled a hazel wandand hooked a berry to a threadand when white moths were on the wingand moth-like stars were flickering...

the inletour friend looks as he didwhen we first knew him,and until I wake I believeI will die of grief, for I knowthat this boy grew into a manwho was a faithful friendwho died.

contemporary poetry is a kind of Reykjavik, a place where accessibility and intelligence have been fighting a Cold War by proxy for the last half-century.

Evening came, a paw, to the gray hut by the river.

If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree it had better not come at all.

O lead me onward to the loneliest shade, The darkest place that quiet ever made, Where kingcups grow most beauteous to behold And shut up green and open into gold.

World is suddener than we fancy it.

An old liar told me hereTo think ahead and save my money.I should have spent it on ribbons.I should have learned the tune my dead grandfather playedWhen the daft wife heard him resoundingIn the deep...

younot wanting mewasthe beginning of mewanting myselfthank you

But you must know that only he who fights the darkness within will the day after tomorrow have his own share in the sun.

Sun-struck, stuck in mid tropic strut, it sometimes standsas if considering how to cool avian plastic,dive into the mown lagoon of lawn;how take flight on dayglow flap-doodle wings, no matterif it is ball-bald going nowhere...

And now we step to the rhythm of miracles.–from The Light, That Never Dies

Your friends, and your associates, and the people around you, and the environment that you live in, and the speakers around you – the speakers around you – and the communicators around you, are the...

You exalt me Bati,This is the message to the society,Brightest day demands struggling, suffering and sacrifice,heroic labor would suffice.

Please let me know if I am not hereLet me know if I fail to find you thereFor before the dawn I leave the night behind meAnd before my heart I let you leave me...

Un día habré dormido con un sueño tan largo que ni tus besos puedan avivar el letargo. Un día estaré sola, como está la montaña entre el largo desierto y la mar que la baña.

I am two fools, I know,For loving, and for saying so.

When a woman’s face is wrinkledAnd her hairs are sprinkled, With gray, Lackaday!Aside she’s cast, No one respect will pay;Remember, Lasses, remember.And while the sun shines make hay:You must not expect in December, The flowers...

Thinking has a quiet skin. But I feel the and of things inside it. Blue hills most gentle in calm light, then stretches of assailAnd ransack. Such tangles of charred wreckage, shrapnel-bits Singling and singeing...

Winter’s last rain and a light I don’t recognize through the trees and I come back in my mind to the man who made me suck his cock when I was seven, in sunlight, between...

Love is a game of tic-tac-toe,constantly waitingfor the next x or o.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main. And not by eastern windows only, When daylight...

Little Maiden Encounters FearDeepest regions walked she therelittle maiden sweet and fairventured far from the pathnever a whispernever a laugh…

My words will be my legacy, etched in heartfelt honesty upon the pages of time.

Gratitude…here at home our faith dwindlespolitical division causes tensions to kindle -we should never forgetwho stands at the door -who shields us with armorand shall forever more…

A few cold words on yonder stone, A corpse as cold as they can be -­ Vain words, and mouldering dust, alone -­ Can this be all that’s left of thee? O, no! thy spirit...

A woman is just like a dream at times, sometimes better than a dream, she’s real.

To His Coy MistressHad we but world enough and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down, and think which way To walk, and pass our long love’s day. Thou by the...

Flutter like a hummingbird, Dive like an eagle, Ain’t no bird that’s my equal. – Twilight

The Laws Of God, The Laws Of ManThe laws of God, the laws of manHe may keep that will and can;Not I: Let God and man decreeLaws for themselves and not for me;And if my...

And on the days I couldn’t breathe, I learned to paint air.

You Know love when you see it, hear it, and feel it.” ~ Amunhotep El Bey

It’s the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I’m a woman Phenomenally.

Fuck You Poem #45Fuck you in slang and conventional English.Fuck you in lost and neglected lingoes.Fuck you hungry and sated; faded, pock marked, and defaced.Fuck you with orange rind, fennel and anchovy paste.Fuck you with...

Why there isn’t any drama in my lifeSo I’ll crawl on the cottonfield with a fifeWhy to have a dream in vain my life begsAm a house gecko, I eat flies and lay eggsMy death...

Knowing that you knew everything about us before we were bornLord, your love is amazing

As long as music survives, poetry will never die.

everybody loves a poeta poet loves everybody

See with your soul and not your eyesbecause to dance with the beasts youmust penetrate their disguise.

having nothing to struggleagainstthey have nothing to strugglefor.

If onlyyou could have witnessed howmuch I have changed: sit alonein a disused theatre and feel whatI have felt, see how the world hastransformed me, like the metamorphosisof a caterpillar.

the price of creationis nevertoo high.the price of livingwith other peoplealwaysis.

Our torments also may in length of timeBecome our Elements.