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that good gardener who wept thorns plowing his fields harvests grace with joy
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stuff the mailboxes and night repositories against my attempts to insert flat evidence of my belonging here
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my climate's not suitable for growing the fruit expected of your tree and i see you have no patience for experiment
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i've misunderstood great men in useful ways in the natural course of an alien life so why would i quarrel with locked doors
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con las justas pinceladas quede el lienzo terminado y eligiendo un marco apropiado
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soft this explosion from alpha to omega sizzling our names raw
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here is the timeless mystery that pays no heed to death's greedy pride
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songs of hearts divine mortal angelic holy billow starlit wings
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here are lips of flame eager to be extinguished by love's liquid sigh
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addicted to bliss dark heaven floods the soul bright with miracles
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stars wishing upon the potential of humans shine faithfully on
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from you i'll ask but won't expect that miracle
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now go meet your deadline go gather your wheat but most of all have fun accomplishing this feat
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grows on its own doesn't require our attention and it becomes the whole bush of it
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- do people understand the speech of flowers with their stench they marked one completely innocent being
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its scent is really gentle quite tranquil and mild
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ay but like love the archers are blind
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feel and pull - see there's the boat and you and the forces and the ground and there's much within you
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there's the mark of the effort in your mind as footprints in the sand pull young one
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i get to see maybe half of what i'm looking at
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colors i've never seen before
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pour vous dire merci avant que je m'en aille votre rire joyeux
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je voudrais vous offrir d'un matin de printemps d'une nuit ensorcelante
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la spuma bianca dell'onde che accarezza l'arena sei
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ogni notte tu m'offri partecipi emozioni d'infinito ineffabili
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she bows her head in recognition of their beauty whispering her confusion willing them to know wanting them near at this time as the night enfolds with the man offering his soft touches and caresses the tiny gestures she has no memories of
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the waning moon a witness to her turmoil she feels his hand softly tingle down her back she turns to the man finds him smiling intense eyes questioning her solitude the passion runs through her like the current of the high tide whetting her desire for the closeness of him
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she holds out her arms to embrace him her dream becomes reality focussing on his lovely face she draws the man of pleasures closer drawing all of him to her melting into one moment of eternity she knows there is only the now of this instant and then there is only solitude with the beauty of him lingering throughout her perfection
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she and must no beautiful woman be learned like a man
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she i have heard said there is great danger in the body
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he did god in portioning wine and bread give man his thought or his mere body
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i danced and the stars moved with me the ground lept beneath my bare feet i was exalted by the silvery moonlight and the air was crisp cool and sweet
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one night i sat beauty down on my lap and i found her galling and i roughed her up
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you'll always be a hyena etc yells the devil who'd crowned me with such pretty poppies deserve death with all your appetites your selfishness and all the capital sins
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ah i've been through too much:-but sweet satan i beg of you a less blazing eye and while waiting for the new little cowardly gestures yet to come since you like an absence of descriptive or didactic skills in a writer let me rip out these few ghastly pages from my notebook of the damned
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because non shall be spared i'll change that friendly look with a kiss of my cold steer
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esta es mi muerte y en ella desdichado de mi contraigo la enfermedad sagrada
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sube al caballo lo intervienen de rayos y alta pirotecnia
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scents of fear fill the street sweat trickles in the heat a scream a trip fall
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bold lawman answers call gently he takes her arm i'll keep you safe from harm
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in a bar where no one knows who you are
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look at the sky of the fragrant freshness inhale deep the spirit of life through the half-opened window tender rays paint your hair golden shine from the cages sing the birds the melody of morning let me kiss you a good morning and whisper on your ears the prayers for you for a day life goes on from charming mornings to weary evenings
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on the rainy nights look at the skies heavy of darkness you may find stars twinkling brightness my dear they are my eyes looking at you to see you growing with all my love to fulfill the dreams i abandoned here to see you carry the traces of this life lived futile wake up to another morning cherishing the night and walk unto the path through eternity
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so delicate and frigil wavy locks mighty thoughts lips that beat the rain swept land
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knowing themselves too well in one another their gifts no pure fruition but a thorn the prick filed sharp against a hint of scorn
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dulce ridens dulce loquens she shaves her legs until they gleam like petrified mammoth-tusk
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our blight has been our sinecure mere talent was enough for us glitter in fragments and rough drafts
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droplets fall atop our necks the bakers grim the farmers grin the birds aloft the winds soar off
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her voice soft and sonorous a fresh timbre angelic a discreet smile she did redeem as a reaction cyclic and her blanched hand i kissed with devoutness
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oh the first flowers how their scent liberates perfumes and the first sounds they emit akin to charming murmur
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trembling breathless our mother tries to rise on stork-thin legs her face confused wasting into shadow
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our fierce warrior is dying her voice falls down and down we hold her upright wishing she could fly
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'shanti lindsay joan picnic at hanging rock shanti - - peace
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he himself must be the key now to the next door the next terrors of freedom and joy
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when a man knows another man is looking for him he doesn't hide
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he puts on a clean shirt and a dark suit and goes to the barber shop to let another man shave him
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he shuts his eyes remembers himself as a boy lying naked on a rock by the water
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fictional vista lulls us with fleeting solace and euphoria's blue waves
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but when the day dies we're consumed by fire of facts and by its million facets
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lights come on my eyes open keep breathing he says i still feel frozen
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until death rode the winds like a brass knocker and begged for attention of course the birds had cried themselves hoarse frogs had croaked non-stop
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and now the house was up for sale the theatre group didn't want it wanted only the money
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not the sentimental shroud of an old man not the front porch that reached out to strangers like a handshake not the sunlight that fell just short of good feng shui
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i live yet do not live in me am waiting as my life goes by and die because i do not die
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but each man carries to his grave the kisses that in hopes to save the angel or his mother gave
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if i should sleep with a lady called death get another man with firmer lips to take your new mouth in his teeth
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yet even as i ponder all at stake i sometimes really wish the earth would quake
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i am parched now and my tongue is horrible in my mouth but my brain is noisy with the clash and gurgle of filling wine-cups
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time's wrinkling fingerstrivialize the sun and snowin a crooked landi see history crippledwith midnight dyspnoeathe green umbrellahosts disaster:the avalanche waits on its shouldersthe wound opens r k singh
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the itch prevails the tags in the mind don't respond
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i've outlivedthe winter's allergiesand depressing rainsin a human zooi can livemy retirement toowithout pension and medicare:the wheelchair doesn't frighteni can liveuncared and unknownsurvive broken homethe numbness in the armsthe pain in the neckand inflation too r k singh
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a jackal doesn't understand remorse lions and lice don't waver in their course why should they when they know they're right
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on this third planet of the sun among the signs of bestiality a clear conscience is number one
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can you see what i mean can you see with every word i write that proclaim a dream
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what they see is transmitted to god's control room which is beyond our understanding
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i want to be a bee digging into an onion heart as you did to me dug and squatted long after death and its fang
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with a voice less loud though its joys and fears show wool in dissembled colours shine
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it was on a day in spring to find my way i had to travel long in that unknown land
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yet a million thoughts racing in every second ahead i look across the lawn small shoes and tidy dress seems so perfect on my friends
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mysteriously she growl licking my face with her damp tongue holding tightly tightly to avoid any asunder on top of my bed stands billy the bitch get of me i strike like thunder
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i might be able to fidn the dream road by spontaneously walking to meet the new day with flaming eyes instead of the flame of a burnt-out cigarette
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one that leads to adversity by others but contentment for ones soul and the other way round is just to prove self in front of others at the cost of self aspirations at last the question remains
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is the air clear there as thoreau's prose with frost and sparkling water and day's close as mild as soft as shows in 'evangeline
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the stuff of liberty is a varying stuff but from grant's men lee's men nobleness should never want
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souvent nous nous lovions sous l'auvent d'un laurier au revers d'un ravin fui par les caravanes aux torrents brutaux de nos veines
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vaines qu'un dieu jaloux tentait entre nos ventres vifs d'exhausser en soufflant ses sables possessifs
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sorry it is too late dear fremds good night ivan petryshyn
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in it i always hear press on let go your fear for things are working sine in heaven all to god of grace
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o zushio - is anju within your shadow or has fate parted even the two of you as it has parted us all
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everyone shouts out it is fun to cook together as family
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no one is born who is not born to die chisel that truth and etch it into stone idealism just cannot shield the bone
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spring has arrived all the children's faces smiling and alive
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the light trying to leap from his bones and continue living unafraid unearthed by age
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standing in the hushed twilight before frogs begin to sing i listen to the last ship's bell signal the wane of day my exuberant heart beats as to leap from my chest i wait in the crystal moonlight that reunites family so we may go as one in search of the glorious future that awaits father and son
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the intersection so that little girl who passes every day with her yellow hair ties will look up and think of the moon or of flowers
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go back home go before it's very late spend time together
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in all you do ensure that love supports your role nirvana's bliss will comfort you
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but there is a stay you can stop time as it dribbles from you drop by drop
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son now i am afraid what is there to be known
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son i begin to understand the reason for evasion i cannot partake of your difficult vision
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