Nature enhances her beauty, to the eye of loving men, from their belief that the poet is beholding her shows at the same time. He is isolated among his contemporaries by truth and by his...

LET’S GO BACK HOMEI can’t think about you,Without smiling.What I wouldn’t give,To go back there,Take you in my arms,Kiss you, And tell you,”I still love you.”It’s been three decades now,And still your smile’s with me,Your...

Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool, But you yourself may serve to show it, That every fool is not a poet.

poetry is the tombstone of experience,nothing i write is my own.~from “the damned

. . . I suppose one starts out, as a child, being romantic and dreaming of adventure. Poetic. Then reality comes along, and with it, a whole lot of prose.

For if in careless summer daysIn groves of Ashtaroth we whored,Repentant now, when winds blow cold,We kneel before our rightful lord;The lord of all, the money-god,Who rules us blood and hand and brain,Who gives the...

Music, When Soft Voices DieMusic, when soft voices die, Vibrates in the memory; Odours, when sweet violets sicken, Live within the sense they quicken. Rose leaves, when the rose is dead, Are heap’d for the...

My mind is heavenMy eyes are the sun and the moonMy awareness shines like the morning star.

i want to love you with simple,like a bare singular matchstick.onestroketo ignitewith no words spokenby the heated flames of the timber of crimsoned scarlet fire.as it crackleswith closeseparationentangled with the intimacy of firefly asheschoosing to...

Father, R.I.P., Sums Me Up at Twenty-ThreeShe has no head for politics,craves good jewelry, trusts too readily,marries too early. Thenone by one she sends away her friendsand stands apart, smug sapphire,her answer to everything a...

LightLightThe visible reminder of Invisible Light.

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,Dare not indulge in memory’s rapturous pain;Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,How could I seek the empty world again?

To write a poem you must have a streak of arrogance– not in real life I hope. In real life try to be nice. It will save you a hell of a lot of trouble...

Inebriate of Air — am I —And Debauchee of Dew —Reeling — thro endless summer days —From Inns of Molten Blue —

some winterswill never meltsome summerswe’ll never freezeand some things will only… live in poems.

If you were coming in the Fall, I’d brush the Summer by With half a smile and half a spurn, As Housewives do a Fly. If I could see you in a year, I’d wind...

this heart yearns…for the salt of unsmelt airunswept thunderstorms…unknown adventures.

Earth is crammed with heaven, and every bush is aflame with the glory of God. But only those who see take of their shoes; the rest just pick the berries.

the ocean mist engulfs me, like a lifetime’s friendship honored.

You say you are a poet of law; I saw you are a contradiction in terms. I only wonder there were not comets and earthquakes on the night you appeared in this garden

I feel the only thing you can do about life is to preserve it, by art if you’re an artist, by children if you’re not.

The pleasure we feel, reading a poem, is our assurance of its integrity.

you wereand always will bethat first ever touchto have fertilizedthe groundbeneath my life’s treesthat first ever roseto have fragrancedthe rest of my memories.

A Psalm of LifeTell me not in mournful numbers,Life is but an empty dream!For the soul is dead that slumbers,And things are not what they seem.Life is real! Life is earnest!And the grave is not...

Poems are invisible flowers on my skin.

Stop that!” Do not mention this when you answer his letter, however. It is quite controversial and Mrs. Mandell is a poet besides.

What needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones,The labor of an age in pilèd stones,Or that his hallowed relics should be hidUnder a star-y-pointing pyramid?Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,What need’st thou such...

The poet doesn’t invent. He listens.

Real haiku is the soul of poetry. Anything that is not actually present in one’s heart is not haiku. The moon glows, flowers bloom, insects cry, water flows. There is no place we cannot find...

Sometimes, when we cannot attain the freedom we are fighting for, we free ourselves b carving a new path to freedom.

Conflicting stories continue to circulate concerning the death of the President. A second White House announcement has now called attention to the President’s schedule for the day, pointing out that no mention is made there...

On a small table beside his chair were other haphazardly stacked volumes by such poets as Emerson, Whitman, and Wallace Stevens, a dangerous crew to let into your head.

Oh dear sunday, I want to sleep in your arms and have fun day.

Hate flows from a broken spirit.

And like nectar inside the bud,my blood drinks from your blood, beloved,and starves to join the salvation in your eyes;to be understood again and again, by your nakedness and certainty, a humbleness that trickles into...

Dreaming of getting you I loosed everything Cheerfulness of smile And all the dreams of life

Nothing that truly mattersCan ever evaporate,Be excised,Burnt out of your soul.

Depression/The assassin inside me

To truly understand poetry one must understand themselves from within one’s self.

… You can’t be with God and be neutral. / True contemplation is resistance. And poetry, / gazing at clouds is resistance I found out in jail.

We stand now where two roads diverge. But unlike the roads in Robert Frost’s familiar poem, they are not equally fair. The road we have long been traveling is deceptively easy, a smooth superhighway on...

Exhaust the little moment. Soon it dies.And be it gash or gold it will not comeAgain in this identical disguise.

You will recognize your own path when you come upon it because you will suddenly have all the energy and imagination you will ever need.

poet”. Whereas I see poets in the wanderers I encounter, the baristas who serve me, and the truckers I, so, love to talk to.To be a poet in my humble opinion is to be a...

Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixed mark...

Love could never be forever only for a lifetime, only God can love eternally.

Fondling,’ she saith, ‘since I have hemm’d thee here Within the circuit of this ivory pale, I’ll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer; Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale:...

I forced myself out of a love that I knew would only end fatally.I forced myself into the dark, until I could no longer remember how to feel with my eyes. I forced my mind...

You were the poem I never knew how to write because no words could describe the wind you cannot see, but feel.

☺☺ When a man gets you 99, he starts to think, he may only have another 10 years of sexy lovemaking left… Still Smiling At 99. ☺☺