Trust your heart if the seas catch fire, live by love though the stars walk backward.
Yours is the light by which my spirit’s born: – you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.
Unless you love someone, nothing else makes sense.
Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star…
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes.
a wind has blown the rain away & the sky away & all the leaves away, & the trees stand. i think i, too, have known autumn too long.
down with hell and heaven and all the religious fussinfinity pleased our parents one inch looks good to us
Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.
To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
may came home with a smooth round stoneas small as a world and as large as alone.
life’s not a paragraphAnd death i think is no parenthesis
since the thing perhaps isto eat flowers and not to be afraid
when man determined to destroy himself he picked the was of shall and finding only why smashed it into because
Humanity i love you because youare perpetually putting the secret oflife in your pants and forgettingit’s there and sitting downon itand because you areforever making poems in the lapof death Humanityi hate you
Such was a poet and shall be and is-who’ll solve the depths of horror to defend a sunbeam’s architecture with his life: and carve immortal jungles of despair to hold a mountain’s heartbeat in his hand.
You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now; Tired of things that break, and— Just tired. So am I.
hate blows a bubble of despair intohugeness world system universe and bang-fear buries a tomorrow under woeand up comes yesterday most green and young
something genuine like a mark in a toilet, graced with guts and gutted with grace
And now you are and I am and we’re a mystery which will never happen again.
i think you will be tired of tellingme & my dreams to go to hell
love being such, or such,the normal corners of your heartwill never guess how muchmy wonderful jealousy is dark
It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.
mr youse needn’t be so spryconcernin questions artyeach has his tastes but as for ii likes a certain partygimme the he-man’s solid blissfor youse ideas i’ll match yousea pretty girl who naked isis worth a million statues
a pretty girl, who naked isis worth a million statues
to hell with literaturewe want something redblooded
Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are by somebody who can loveand who shall be continually reborn, a human being.
Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups violetsdandelionsAnd the big bullying daisies through the field wonderfulwith eyes a little sorryAnother comes also picking flowers
I don’t know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all the roses. Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.
no time agoor else a lifewalking in the darki met christjesus)my heartflopped overand lay stillwhile he passed(asclose as i’m to youyes closermade of nothingexcept loneliness.
I don’t like the memories because the tears come easily, and once again I break my promise to myself for this day. It’s a constant battle. a war between remembering and forgetting.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it inmy heart)i am never without it(anywherei go you go,my dear;and whatever is doneby only me is your doing,my darling)
it’s springand the goat-footedballoonMan whistlesfarandwee
You are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing.
… (lady i willtouch you with my mind.) Touchyou, that is all/lightly and you utterly will becomewith infinite care/ the poem which i do not write.
Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit
a politician is an arse uponwhich everyone has sat except a man
For whatever we lose (like a you or a me),It’s always our self we find in the sea.
Only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses. Nobody, not even the rain has such small hands.
Take the matter of being born. What does being born mean to most people?
I thank You God for this most amazing day for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes.
all ignorance toboggans into know and trudges up to ignorance again.
unlove’s the heavenless hell and homeless home . . . lovers alone wear sunlight.
I thank You God for this most amazing day for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes.
a politician is an arse upon which everyone has sat except a man.
To be nobody-but-yourself-in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you everybody else-means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
to be nobody but yourself- in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit.
Be of love a little more careful than of anything.
Humanity I love you because when you’re hard up you pawn your intelligence to buy a drink.
I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance.
To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else – means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight; and never stop fighting.
Knowledge is a polite word for dead but not buried imagination.