1535

The Life that tied too tight escapes
Will ever after run
With a prudential look behind
And spectres of the Rein—
The Horse that scents the living Grass
And sees the Pastures smile
Will be retaken with a shot
If he is caught at all—

You are
delicious
And I am
greedy.
You are
generous
And I am
needy.
You are
experienced
And I am
learning.
You are
flammable
And I am
burning.

712

Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves—
And Immortality.

We slowly drove—He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility—

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess—in the Ring—
We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain—
We passed the Setting Sun—

Or rather—He passed Us—
The Dews drew quivering and chill—
For only Gossamer, my Gown—
My Tippet—only Tulle—

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground—
The Roof was scarcely visible—
The Cornice—in the Ground—

Since then—’tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity—

(War Time)

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum-trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

the coffee was cold.
a day old.
i heated it.
poured it.
fought through it.

put on a b-film.
something about crap
films made our lives
feel more fulfilling.

we laughed.
exposed every flaw.
we held hands.
snuck
loving glances.

i have to wake up in three
hours, but all i can think
is life is luck,
even for the dumbest of us,
when you tell your
eyes to open up.

It was many and many a year ago,
  In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
  By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
  Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
  In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
  I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
  Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
  In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
  My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
  And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
  In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
  Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
  In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
  Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
  Of those who were older than we—
  Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
  Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
  Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
  In her sepulchre there by the sea—
  In her tomb by the side of the sea.

In Memory of a Good Man

He walked the path he knew so well
To the garden he kept
Which was were they found him
On cold ground in
Winter.

They thought he likely slipped and fell,
Curled up tightly and slept
Snug in blankets of snow.
Where else to go
To dream

Of rich soil, a man's hands once strong
That could coax new life from
A yard of glass shards, bricks
Growing God's gifts
To share.

Or concrete towers only drawn
Those hands that once built them
Spinning the webs of steel
That made dreams real
Shelter.

Smiling face that may still know me,
We'll just sit together
While I'll hear your stories
In memories -
No words.

Silently gaze and nod slowly,
Stare at one another.
Tired eyes tell where you've been
My dear sweet friend...
In dreams.

I had the sweetest purest dream
More real than I have known
and in it there were mountains
and a secret magic home.

Then my lover came to me
and my love enchanted me
and in my heart
She placed a magic dart.

All in the silky silence
I felt the tendrils grow
Abounding through my essence then
What others cannot know.

and the atoms changed in me
The musician changed the key
The earth shook then
and all began to spin.

My lover's mouth, like berries
is wondrous, deep and dear
I taste it in her absence..
I taste it when she's near.

No matter where I go
Her face before me goes
Now here, now there
I see her everywhere.

I had the sweetest purest dream
More real than I have known
and in it there were mountains
and a secret magic home...

Each thoughtful pondering
Sliver like descends in inked threads
Removed from within the whirlpool of my mind
To become a living, breathing substance.

Many just cluttered mumblings
Extracted to clear the thoughts and reasoning’s
Of the eccentric soul

Pencieve, I pity you
For now you bear the clutter
That enables poetic inspiration
To bring forth its fruits

Penceive I thank you
For without such as you
True confusion reigns