Planted seeds in the soil of void,
Growing at ease to create massive forms,
Space deserts - signs of zero existence,
And wandering moons, that are no more rebellious.

Nor derelict stars, not imploding clusters,
Will imply the rage, that lies in reign before us,
A planet of fear, afraid it will flatten,
The world, as appears, absorbs it's own tremor.

An endless number of stardust I hold in my palm,
So fiery, so peaceful, so restless, so calm.
I carry it cautiously, knowing it's meaning,
But it is not in my power to prevent it from melting.

And so the future has come, alas,
Now I'm one with the distance it seems, at last.
Disappeared, gone, but still yet alive,
For even emptiness shall be gone one time.

Funny men in tall chef hats
Marching about so wildly
Stone soup and humble pie
Main course and dessert delight

Give me a dose
And that girl two
Vanity, her dream come true
Narcissistic uncaring and cold

A mid-evil blunder
So daring and bold
Spoiled brats
And rotting Brauts

Sugared too sweet
Not telling the truth
The gossip
And all

The Court jester
The village idiot
He sinks to the bottom
She cheers to the top

It's amazing the wonder
The high school scene
The many things
That relate to its sheen

The short stout bakers
Making profit from weakness
Some goods so smooth
Some just the opposite

The geeks and nerds
Hackers and slackers
Jocks with jerseys
And rebels with rock

Serve up course two and three
Let's make it a festival
Just you and me
Vanity and sheen

Were just getting started
This is high school
This mid-evil concert
For four years we live it

A new melody
A new song
It's not the end
But the struggle

Is on.

Sear your wounds
With underwater flame
And sacred sorrows.
There is hurt in your eyes,
And a bitter heart moored
In the leaves of your open
Veins.
A girl of salt will bring
A cup of tears
To wash your broken feet.
They are burnt tears,
The girl a ******,
And youngest of sisters three.
In her silver mirror you will
See the reflection of a tortured face.
She will place her hands
Tightly over your eyes
And her palms will bring
The night like black sunflowers.
While death meditates
You will have perfect dreams
Of faces rife with compassion;
And centuries will pass
Under the mirrored water.
When you awake
You will possess great power;
And it will free you like an
Arrow to its ark.
The heart's sharp pain
Will release you and you will
Go forward into the dawn
Like wildflowers exploding
On their stems.

In the spring twilight
the full moon is shining:
Girls take their places
as though around an altar

Sleep, darling
I have a small
daughter called
Cleis, who is

like a golden
flower
I wouldn't
take all Croesus'
kingdom with love
thrown in, for her

---

Don't ask me what to wear
I have no embroidered
headband from Sardis to
give you, Cleis, such as
I wore
and my mother
always said that in her
day a purple ribbon
looped in the hair was thought
to be high style indeed

but we were dark:
a girl
whose hair is yellower than
torchlight should wear no
headdress but fresh flowers

O Venus, beauty of the skies,
To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gaily false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles;
O goddess, from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.

If ever thou hast kindly heard
A song in soft distress preferred,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
A gentle goddess, hear me now.
Descend, thou bright immortal guest,
In all thy radiant charms confessed.

Thou once didst leave almighty Jove
And all the golden roofs above:
The car thy wanton sparrows drew,
Hovering in air they lightly flew;
As to my bower they winged their way
I saw their quivering pinions play.

The birds dismissed (while you remain)
Bore back their empty car again:
Then you, with looks divinely mild,
In every heavenly feature smiled,
And asked what new complaints I made,
And why I called you to my aid?

What frenzy in my ***** raged,
And by what cure to be assuaged?
What gentle youth I would allure,
Whom in my artful toils secure?
Who does thy tender heart subdue,
Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who?

Though now he shuns thy longing arms,
He soon shall court thy slighted charms;
Though now thy offerings he despise,
He soon to thee shall sacrifice;
Though now he freezes, he soon shall burn,
And be thy victim in his turn.

Celestial visitant, once more
Thy needful presence I implore.
In pity come, and ease my grief,
Bring my distempered soul relief,
Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires,
And give me all my heart desires.

You love the roses - so do I. I wish
The sky would rain down roses, as they rain
From off the shaken bush. Why will it not?
Then all the valley would be pink and white
And soft to tread on. They would fall as light
As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be
Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!