O Distinct
Lady of my unkempt adoration
if I have made
a fragile curtain

song under the window of your soul
it is not like any songs
(the singers the others
they have been faithful

to many things and which
die
i have been sometimes true
to Nothing and which lives

they were fond of the handsome
moon       never spoke ill of the
pretty stars       and to
the serene the complicated

and the obvious
they were faithful
and which i despise,
frankly

admitting i have been true
only to the noise of worms
in the eligible day
under the unaccountable sun)

Distinct Lady
swiftly take
my fragile certain song
that we may watch together

how behind the doomed
exact smile of life’s
placid obscure palpable
carnival where to a normal

melody of probable violins dance
the square virtues with the oblong sins
perfectly
gesticulate the accurate

strenuous lips of incorruptible
Nothing       under the ample
sun, under the insufficient
day under the noise of worms

Goodbye goodbye
You soulless sky
Not a soul for nostalgia

Would have liked a drink
With ya.

into the smiting
sky tense
with
blend

ing
the
tree      leaps
                  a stiffened exquisite

i
wait the sweet
annihilation of swift
flesh

i make me stern against
your charming strength

O haste
        annihilator
drawing into you my enchanting
leaves

Our life is a precious, amazing gift.
A gift from our God, who has given us this,
A body, a soul, a name, and a purpose.
A child of love, and two parents to birth us.

With each of our days we grow and we learn,
And through out our life, pure happiness we yearn.
We look in all directions, and search most our life
To find this pure happiness, and escape from all strife.

But in a world with so much dark hate,
Where could this be? And then what is our fate?
Life can be rough, a battle infact,
And with each of our falls, our faith is at lack.

But hope is not lost for the world still holds strong,
With the people of truth who sing the same song.
A song of purpose, a song of light
The answer to our prayers, to the ultimate fight.

See life is a time where most just live on,
Not knowing why or exactly how long,
But look deep inside to find it's true key,
The key that is God and how life should then be.

A life filled with good, hope, and our Lord,
As happiness flourishes with God as our sword.
To win this long battle, this rough, crazy fight,
We must look past the darkness, and seek Gods true light.

if learned darkness from our searched world

should wrest the rare unwisdom of thy eyes,
and if thy hands flowers of silence curled

upon a wish,to rapture should surprise
my soul slowly which on thy beauty dreams
(proud through the cold perfect night whisperless

to mark,how that asleep whitely she seems

whose lips the whole of life almost do guess)

if god should send the morning;and before
my doubting window leaves softly to stir,
of thoughtful trees whom night hath pondered o’er
—and frailties of dimension to occur

about us
              and birds known, scarcely to sing

(heart,could we bear the marvel of this thing?)

and what were roses.  Perfume?for i do
forget…or mere Music mounting unsurely

twilight
            but here were something more maturely
childish,more beautiful almost than you.

Yet if not flower,tell me softly who

be these haunters of dreams always demurely
halfsmiling from cool faces,moving purely
with muted steps,yet somewhat proudly too—

are they not ladies,ladies of my dreams
justly touching roses their fingers whitely
live by?
            or better,
                            queens,queens laughing lightly
crowned with far colors,

                                  thinking very much
of nothing and whom dawn loves most to touch

wishing by willows,bending upon streams?

501

This World is not Conclusion.
A Species stands beyond—
Invisible, as Music—
But positive, as Sound—
It beckons, and it baffles—
Philosophy—don’t know—
And through a Riddle, at the last—
Sagacity, must go—
To guess it, puzzles scholars—
To gain it, Men have borne
Contempt of Generations
And Crucifixion, shown—
Faith slips—and laughs, and rallies—
Blushes, if any see—
Plucks at a twig of Evidence—
And asks a Vane, the way—
Much Gesture, from the Pulpit—
Strong Hallelujahs roll—
Narcotics cannot still the Tooth
That nibbles at the soul—

Dreams…
They dare;
Instigate…
Enough to investigate,
Where the moon hides,
On the dark nights?
Who rules the tides?
And who sways,
The wind’s might?

Dreams…
They push;
Beyond the holding ledge,
Plunge…
Into the dark,
As dreams possess,
A glow evident;
Iridescent firefly,
Cutting stark,
Across the dark!

Dreams…
Often invincible,
An invisible might,
Ruling the strengths,
Of a doing mind!
They bloom,
A trophy of truth,
Shining over the mantle,
Radium of life!

of evident invisibles
exquisite the hovering

at the dark portals

of hurt girl eyes


sincere with wonder

a poise a wounding
a beautiful suppression

the accurate boy mouth


now droops the faun head

now the intimate flower dreams

of parted lips
dim upon the syrinx

In the glad springtime when leaves were green,
O merrily the throstle sings!
I sought, amid the tangled sheen,
Love whom mine eyes had never seen,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

Between the blossoms red and white,
O merrily the throstle sings!
My love first came into my sight,
O perfect vision of delight,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

The yellow apples glowed like fire,
O merrily the throstle sings!
O Love too great for lip or lyre,
Blown rose of love and of desire,
O the glad dove has golden wings!

But now with snow the tree is grey,
Ah, sadly now the throstle sings!
My love is dead:  ah! well-a-day,
See at her silent feet I lay
A dove with broken wings!
Ah, Love! ah, Love! that thou wert slain—
Fond Dove, fond Dove return again!