A caribou tripping on sh-rooms

A lonely poet
casts a line
into the sea

for what is it sir,
you are fishing?  

for inspiration,
I suppose

There is a meaning so high and pure that
Who here below can say it true: I love you.
Yet I have said it so many times to you I do
Not count the times and ways daring not to
Question my heart knowing that all hearts are
Unknowable and desperately evil-yet the psamist
Says to lift them but I have never stood upon this
Formality of authentication but pleased myself and
Made myself less if only aspiration could be heard
As truth I could ne'er wait to tell you,  Be that is it
May and granting you your higher  ethic Before I
Go I would count it a kindness from Him above if
Before I go you would say I love you too forever

let us walk through quartz,
my love
in the red,
sunset desert

In the dark and deep interiors
Where harsh reality prevails
Where no state's aid knocks
A gruesome tale it entails
Where woman is a mother,
Sister, or a guileless daughter
Behind veils of ignorance
Where poor is beaten excruciatingly
For solely out of wantonness
A young girl writhing with pain
Fear, dysphoria of social shame
Where age-old myths are sacred
In their glum and gloated atmosphere
Where harsh reality prevails
Out of sophisticated, sedentary lifestyles
In the dark and deep interiors
Where backwardness is upheld...

Too sad to cry
Too weary to care
Too worn-out to try again

Too stubborn to quit
Too stupid to fall
To give up and call it a day

Too needy to give
Too loath to receive
Too desolate to have any hope

Too angry to smile
Too bashful to sing
Too depleted to ever recover

Too hungry for notice
Too often passed over
Too much like the papered wall

Too late to the party
Too far back in line for the prizes
Too early to be forced to leave.
                      ljm

When stars fill the nighttime sky,
In a lonely realm I abide;
I think of the man and his loving ways,
But only his ghost slumbers at my side

In the early morning hours
I wonder why I lay alone;
I think of the man who should be with me.....
Fate is callous and has a heart of stone

In the bright sunlight of noon,
Feelings of hopelessness are stirred;
I think of the man - how I need his love,
And though I beg, all my prayers go unheard

In the solemn evening hours,
I beg of God to tell me why
I think of the man, but I can't hold him,
And in my silent loneliness, I cry