Writing from soul to paper
Paper to draft
From draft to hp
Hello poetry to you

Keep it alive this soul of mine
Write and there will always be someone to read
Here I am writing to thee
▪-▪

cracks in the ground

like a frozen sea
cracks in the sky
like a frozen lip—
                quivering
then,
and voiceless fluttering
of word upon wordless wordy word

a low wind
that
proud wheat
    swept by

                   a bowing horde of gold

like kin on kin erupting
(because root dooms with it the house)
like a festival of distrust
where all centres
   in a tangle of struggles
own throats hold

gyres of limbs
              that themselves ****
themselves make

a ruffled head
that I so long combed
now a sea wild
wild
now slithering babbling streams
now lustful teasing waves
that shore then shore
meet and meet
and will rest not at all

what of—
blind infancy of impulsive beliefs
that through dunes and oases
go and go
(now nothing, now all, now none and all and all––)

a–– many sandcastle homes of childish sight
melt to doubt

— hold it—
this cleaving ground will be bound no more

cracks, indeed, all around

After death,
In this world
A landlord will leave his property,
A thief will leave his stress,
A sinner leaves his sins,
A loved one would leave his wonderful memories,
A pure one leaves his respect,
And an artist leaves his art