Stars are only the rain of the Absolute.

Maple. MaypoleCatch and carry.Ash and Ember.Elderberry.Woolen. Woman.Moon at night.Willow. Window.Candlelight.Fallow farrow.Ash and oak.Bide and borrow.Chimney smoke.Barrel. Barley.Stone and stave.Wind and water.Misbehave.

Now Leroux, what think youOf this twist to the story?

The way we are living,timorous or bold,will have been our life.

down with hell and heaven and all the religious fussinfinity pleased our parents one inch looks good to us

O stand, stand at the window As the tears scald and start;You shall love your crooked neighbour With your crooked heart.

What seems real one moment is fiction the nextand gone out of existence the moment after that.Nostalgia is the greatest enemy of truth,and change our only constancy.

The season was waning fastOur nights were growing cold at lastI took her to bed with silk and song,’Lay still, my love, I won’t be long;I must prepare my body for passion.”O, your body you...

The courage of the poet is to keep ajar the door that leads into madness.

He had been searching for it his entire life. He had devoted himself to poetry to find it. Now, in the middle of his life, he found it. It was in the face of the...

There’s in my mind a…turbulent moon-ridden girlor old woman, or both,dressed in opals and rags, feathersand torn taffeta,who knows strange songsbut she is not kind.

SOUL SHINEYou know that thingYou do so well,That little sparkYou hideIn the dark,That you thinkNobodyKnowsAboutButYou?Well,Did you knowThatThere’sA sheenThat you beam,When you talkOr doAnything,That everyoneKnowsAboutButYou?

What haunts me most about her eyes is the pain I put in them… In the corner of my dark soul Her passion is dark like a kohl She is giving new meaning to these...

You own me with whispers like poetry.Your mouth is a melody I memorize.

Some have won a wild delight,By daring wilder sorrow;Could I gain thy love to-night,I’d hazard death to-morrow.

Every angel is terrifying.

Here they have no time for the fine gracesof poetry, unless it freely growsin deep compulsion, like water in the well,woven into the texture of the soilin a strong pattern.

I live my life in growing orbits which move out over the things of the world.

The campus, an academy of trees,under which some hand, the wind’s I guess,had scattered the pale lightof thousands of spring beauties,petals stained with pink veins;secret, blooming for themselves.We sat among them.Your long fingers, thin body,and...

You must make love to him like his touch is your salvation.

Auguries of innocence”The emmet’s inch and eagle’s mileMake lame philosophy to smile.He who doubts from what he seesWill ne’er believe, do what you please.

Music is not my life. My life is music.

I can no longer trust in this loveIt has fallen like the saints aboveAll because of your sweet liesYou sang them like a lullaby”Phoenix

The German Censors —— —— —— —— ———— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— ———— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— ———— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— —— ————...

I celebrate myself, and sing myself, And what I assume you shall assume,For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I don’t wish to be everything to everyone, but I would like to be something to someone.

If poetry dies, nothing lives !

Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I goTo heal my heart and drown my woeRain may fall, and wind may blowAnd many miles be still to goBut under a tall tree will I lieAnd let...

It is at the edge of the petal that love waits

Heavy as such things areAfter the wordslide, the writing begins.”From “Word Quake

Man disavows, and Deity disowns me;Hell might afford my miseries a shelter;Therefore Hell keeps her ever-hungry mouths allBolted against me.Hard lot! encompassed with a thousand dangers,Weary, faint, trembling with a thousand terrors,I’m called, if vanquished,...

I live not in myself, but I becomePortion of that around me: and to meHigh mountains are a feeling, but the humof human cities torture.

Stasis in darkness.Then the substanceless blue

Cultivate the distance. Nurture the silence. Let it grow until your fragile heart is as far and inaccessible as his marbled emotions. Don’t talk. Don’t move. Sit still. If he shows up, lie. Believe your...

Al final del camino me dirán:—,Has vivido? ,Has amado?Y yo, sin decir nada,abriré el corazón lleno de nombres.

Poetry is the essence and evidence of life.

He who does not know how to encircle a girl so that she loses sight of everything he does not want her to see, he who does not know how to poetize himself into a...

Nothing fills the world quite as poetry does. A poet need not dwell on the pagecount of his life.

Me too thy nobleness has taughtTo master my despair;The fountains of my hidden lifeAre through thy friendship fair.

Our Mother feedeth thus our little life, That we may in turn feed her with our death

Demander à la poésie du sentimentalisme … ce n’est pas ça. Des mots rayonnants, des mots de lumière … avec un rythme et une musique, voilà ce que c’est, la poésie.

I didn’t know till then the stars, in flakesof snow come down to fuck the earth, the lake.

A friend is a companion for the journey,never a means to our own.What we take we take together,the joy we reap, we have sown.

If I ever see an alien fishing in Scotland, and witness it catching the Loch Ness Monster, I’d probably assume the world would want me to write a poem about the event, rather than take...

There are three lessons I would write-Three words, as with a burning pen, In tracings of eternal light,Upon the heart of men.Have hope! though clouds environ round,And gladness hides her face in scorn,Put thou the...

I know you . . .That you hold insideVast possibilities and dreamsAnd limitless love.

Poetry must be as new as foam and as old as the rock.

The children walk away from me, flick flickety off at a tangent between thin blotched beech trunks, then turn like yo-yos at the end of their strings and come back to me” from the poem...

We returned to our palaces, these Kingdoms, but no longer at ease here in the old dispensation, with an alien people clutching their gods. I should be glad of another death.

A charm invests a faceImperfectly beheld,—The lady dare not lift her veilFor fear it be dispelled.But peers beyond her mesh,And wishes, and denies,—Lest interview annul a wantThat image satisfies.