Sure thou didst flourish once! and many springs,
  Many bright mornings, much dew, many showers,
Pass’d o’er thy head; many light hearts and wings,
  Which now are dead, lodg’d in thy living bowers.

And still a new succession sings and flies;
  Fresh groves grow up, and their green branches shoot
Towards the old and still enduring skies,
  While the low violet thrives at their root.

But thou beneath the sad and heavy line
  Of death, doth waste all senseless, cold, and dark;
Where not so much as dreams of light may shine,
  Nor any thought of greenness, leaf, or bark.

And yet—as if some deep hate and dissent,
  Bred in thy growth betwixt high winds and thee,
Were still alive—thou dost great storms resent
  Before they come, and know’st how near they be.

Else all at rest thou liest, and the fierce breath
  Of tempests can no more disturb thy ease;
But this thy strange resentment after death
  Means only those who broke—in life—thy peace.

He poured the coffee
Into the cup
He put the milk
Into the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
Into the coffee with milk
With a small spoon
He churned
He drank the coffee
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He emptied the coffee with milk
And he put down the cup
Without any word to me
He lighted
One cigarette
He made circles
With the smoke
He shook off the ash
Into the ashtray
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
He got up
He put on
A hat on his head
He put on
A raincoat
Because it was raining
And he left
Into the rain
Without any word to me
Without any look at me
And I buried
My face in my hands
And I cried

whether i said it or not
i loved you all very much*

(act 1)

this is an ode to the dark room
in which i made you bleed
and you found the courage to laugh
at my clumsy hands. you,
forever cloudy eyes and sideways glances,
think you love me. you are mistaken.
but when the carpet seemed
like grass, and you reached out
for something i will never understand,
i let myself shake with the moon, let myself
escape guilt for the first time.
and new lovers flooded in
because i tore myself open for you.

(act 2)

“right now, r-right now,
i love you”
drunk and desperate, i threw
my middle school needs upon you in some kind of
suicidal mission of my childhood,
you took it. you smiled.
and you did not understand.
sacrificial and first.
pure.
you fade fast.

(act 3)

sometimes i return to
kind puddled visions of the night you taught me
what it meant to make love
and what it meant to apologize.
i would like to defeat you, to not have to imagine
my tears dripping onto your stomach
and you far away, too male and hard.
i would like to think that i could darken
the yellow light reflecting from your skin
by badly hung christmas lights,
even if your confession was the only one that was holy.
i can forget.
it is what i am best at.

(act 4)

now
    there is another
another sinking stone, with full eyes
and hopeful hands and when i dream
he is there
curled up in a life
in which i am awake and unafraid.
i have known you for a week.
you told my father i am wonderful.

(act 5)

i went to a wedding for two women
who were together for 25 years, even
before the ceremony, even after
they had explored every part of each other’s bodies.
i cried
and prayed for the power to give myself up.
but i renounce god everyday.

Hark! Now everything is still,
The screech-owl and the whistler shrill,
Call upon our dame aloud,
And bid her quickly don her shroud!

Much you had of land and rent;
Your length in clay ’s now competent:
A long war disturb’d your mind;
Here your perfect peace is sign’d.

Of what is ‘t fools make such vain keeping?
Sin their conception, their birth weeping,
Their life a general mist of error,
Their death a hideous storm of terror.
Strew your hair with powders sweet,
Don clean linen, bathe your feet,

And—the foul fiend more to check—
A crucifix let bless your neck:
’Tis now full tide ‘tween night and day;
End your groan and come away.

All the flowers of the spring
Meet to perfume our burying;
These have but their growing prime,
And man does flourish but his time:
Survey our progress from our birth—
We are set, we grow, we turn to earth.
Courts adieu, and all delights,
All bewitching appetites!
Sweetest breath and clearest eye
Like perfumes go out and die;
And consequently this is done
As shadows wait upon the sun.
Vain the ambition of kings
Who seek by trophies and dead things
To leave a living name behind,
And weave but nets to catch the wind.

This Saint whose Letters bear Prime in Youth
Like that such my Verses appreciate
And Hand by Clock's Divination sprays Truth
Prevent my own Good Deeds depreciate
How Frequent be your Sprinkles for Good Praise
Which by Volumes soon Tampered for Debate
Yet as Pure Models breed Tolerance raise
Urge me in Trust extend your Honour's sate
Father from the Miles; By then your Heart plombs
What other Morsels must my Bowl offer?
Stoppered at that - Tongues inflamed by their Combs
Still Burst your Berries by Love, dear Elder.
It seems by now that First Names make Sense
Though Birth-Year's Stamp your Longevity hence.

‬

A Robin said: The Spring will never come,
  And I shall never care to build again.
A Rosebush said: These frosts are wearisome,
  My sap will never stir for sun or rain.
The half Moon said: These nights are fogged and slow,
I neither care to wax nor care to wane.
The Ocean said: I thirst from long ago,
  Because earth's rivers cannot fill the main.--
When Springtime came, red Robin built a nest,
  And trilled a lover's song in sheer delight.
  Grey hoarfrost vanished, and the Rose with might
  Clothed her in leaves and buds of crimson core.
The dim Moon brightened. Ocean sunned his crest,
  Dimpled his blue, yet thirsted evermore.

Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry,
Take your walk
To the shady leaf, or stalk,
Or what not,
Which may be the chosen spot.
No toad spy you,
Hovering bird of prey pass by you;
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly.

WIFE and servant are the same,
But only differ in the name :
For when that fatal knot is ty'd,
Which nothing, nothing can divide :
When she the word obey has said,
And man by law supreme has made,
Then all that's kind is laid aside,
And nothing left but state and pride :
Fierce as an eastern prince he grows,
And all his innate rigour shows :
Then but to look, to laugh, or speak,
Will the nuptial contract break.
Like mutes, she signs alone must make,
And never any freedom take :
But still be govern'd by a nod,
And fear her husband as a God :
Him still must serve, him still obey,
And nothing act, and nothing say,
But what her haughty lord thinks fit,
Who with the power, has all the wit.
Then shun, oh ! shun that wretched state,
And all the fawning flatt'rers hate :
Value yourselves, and men despise :
You must be proud, if you'll be wise.

Where have all the days gone by?
What once was new, now is made;
Night is falling, close my eyes,

Now, the moments softly cry,
The light has clouds racing away,
Where have all the days gone by?

Fresh and verdant the gentle tighs,
Summers sweetness up in blaze,
Night is falling, close my eyes.

What once was truth now is lie,
After rains shear loss of May,
Where have all the days gone by?

I hear the hush, leaves that die,
I fear what the swan has to say,
Night is falling, close my eyes.

Awakened to such sad surprise,
Spring was such a fleeting haze,
Where have all the days gone by;
Night is calling, close my eyes.