If rightly tuneful bards decide,
  If it be fix’d in Love’s decrees,
That Beauty ought not to be tried
  But by its native power to please,
Then tell me, youths and lovers, tell—
What fair can Amoret excel?

Behold that bright unsullied smile,
  And wisdom speaking in her mien:
Yet—she so artless all the while,
  So little studious to be seen—
We naught but instant gladness know,
Nor think to whom the gift we owe.

But neither music, nor the powers
  Of youth and mirth and frolic cheer,
Add half the sunshine to the hours,
  Or make life’s prospect half so clear,
As memory brings it to the eye
From scenes where Amoret was by.

This, sure, is Beauty’s happiest part;
  This gives the most unbounded sway;
This shall enchant the subject heart
  When rose and lily fade away;
And she be still, in spite of Time,
Sweet Amoret in all her prime.

One ****** thought
cast out centuries ago.
*******--
the mercury coats,
attracts the gold.
Some furnace reaps undeserved reward.
Big ***, floppy
fun replacable ***
much more effort

Do not stand at my grave and weep..
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry..
I am not there. I did not die.

I never thought you were a hero but
at one point i thought
you were a real person.
imagine my dissapointment
as the mask fell off when you screamed

There is
an awful war
going on
between the good
and the bad
so I've decided
to **** them both.

I'm smoking cigarettes
to the filiters, inhaling
carcinogens and rat poison
and urea like oxygen,
while you're dancing,
dancing around words
and the bedroom floor.

Kim: Letter to the Wind

Bronze beauty from the far east
how are you?
It’s been years since you crossed my mind
but I still do remember
those slanted almond eyes
and that enchanting full moon smile.

Impeccable.

That’s how I’ll describe your slim body
and your laughter:
The most beautiful song
I ever had the pleasure to hear
3 chords, 3 letters, 1 being.

Kim.

Pink roses and wet leaves
I imagined you leaving in every kiss.

I used to beat your boyfriend
at basketball pretty bad
in order to impress you.

But you already knew that didn’t you?

Or how I used to pass by the same hallway
every day as an excuse to see you
even if it made me late for class.

Remember when I drew you?
You almost fainted of emotion.
A blank sheet of paper
had never been so lucky.

You had my heart in an Origami figure.

Impeccable your hair that flowed
like an endless waterfall
all the way down to the floor.

And your button nose
and your pillowed cheeks
and your gorgeous full
bloom lips: impeccable.

I used to **** a whole afternoon sighing you.

I would watch you stroll by
with your friends and your books
and I couldn't decipher a single thing
said by you, by your mouth as you waved
hello and goodbye all in the same frame.

I couldn't structure a sentence
without spelling your name.

Kim.

I still got the note you wrote me
three lines long with the faded ink
and the only picture of us
that never saw the light of day.

If you ever knew Kim May my dear
that I dreaded August when it came near
and even after all these long years
I still carry your perfume in my bloodstream.
You had my thoughts wrapped
in a tightly-knit Kimono.

You lived in my dreams for a record
Three Hundred and Sixty-five days
and even if I never see you again
I still have to thank you
for teaching me to appreciate beauty
beyond my wildest imagination.

Your sweet essence, impeccable.
To see you blush: indescribable.
To feel you breathe: irreplaceable .
Exotic princess: untouchable.

Your face and your name
carved their own place
in my memories with a steel pen.

And as far as I am concerned,
you are the only one with the name
your name, not anybody else's
whom letter by letter
I could caress, word for word
wistfully dreaming
to get under your skin
the one and only
Kim.

Yours forever, Ottis.

Unto whose use the pregnant suns are poised,
With idiot moons and stars retracting stars?
Creep thou between—thy coming’s all unnoised.
Heaven hath her high, as Earth her baser, wars.
Heir to these tumults, this affright, that fray
(By Adam’s, fathers’, own, sin bound alway);
Peer up, draw out thy horoscope and say
Which planet mends thy threadbare fate, or mars.