#poetry

"Lost Love [10w] + {Couplet} Lost love's the season of mists,Though they are gone, memory persists."

"Late FragmentAnd did you get whatyou wanted from this life, even so?I did.And what did you want?To call myself beloved, to feel myselfbeloved on the earth."

"Some people go to priests; others to poetry; I to my friends."

"Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed."

"I choose to love this time for oncewith all my intelligence-from "Splittings"

"Listen to the Wisdom of Shakespeare 'To thine own self be true and fuck'em till they're back and blue."

"I will come back to you, I swear I will;And you will know me still.I shall be only a little tallerThan when I went."

"Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is! (Act 1, scene 1)"

"Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject."

"..."vers libre,"(free verse) or nine-tenths of it, is not a new metre any more than sleeping in a ditch is a new school of architecture."

"You shall love your crooked neighbour, with your crooked heart."

"You mark and celebrate errors, transforming failures into successes."

"Doldrums People who live in the doldrumscan't throw caution to the wind."

"To fall in love with someone's thoughts - the most intimate, splendid romance."

"please=""hand=""me=""the=""remote,=""dear."=""[10w]=""The most effective method of birth control is grannie panties."

"Senility [10w] Senility's like a bottle of Coke that lost its bubbles."

"In the Porn Industry [10w] Lacking a college-diploma's more than compensated by a humongous penis."

"Ode to a Wastepaper Basket I love the way you sit in the corner,gracious like a lover,catching my every crumpled vanity."

"Follow, poet, follow rightTo the bottom of the night,With your unconstraining voiceStill persuade us to rejoice;With the farming of a verseMake a vineyard of the curse,Sing of human unsuccessIn a rapture of distress;In the deserts of the heartLet the healing fountain start,In the prison of his daysTeach the free man how to praise."

"Of the many forms that silence takes, the most memorable is the dry husk of the cicada."