walls do not imprison me;
nor chains restrict my whole;
guards do not watch over me;
nor kings command my soul;

laws do not direct my fate;
nor chance affect my goal;
time does not my life sedate;
nor routine take its toll;

love shows not it’s all to me;
nor hope present its light;
joy lends not its warmth to me;
nor freedom end this fight.

How foolish how insane to believe this could be more than a simple game
What sorrows what hardships have been endured for this dream to be maintained
No new found glory, no scrap of honor to be found
My sense of justice shall go once more underground
The folly here being the confusion of lust for love
For not sensing the trap and becoming a soiled dove
Where is the honesty I had hoped to find?
Where is the truth in this muck, mire, and grime?
Somewhere out there the bitterness of my laughter can be heard
Trailing after the soul who I scorn, whose picture I burned
Denial ceased when I heard the deception flow from his lips
When I felt the cold trail in the wake of his fingertips
Did I not receive warning from the friends who knew best?
Forgetting their wisdom in stead of my own recklessness
Blame them I cannot, harbor ill will towards them I do not
But the lesson I learned will not soon be forgot

Sweet security of sleep
forget forever that last dance on a
broken floor of frigid waters,
when storms alarmed a sleeper in his restful respite,
and made him think things he would
be too afraid to tell himself

Sweet surrendering reprieve
love always the way you forgot it all
and just stuck to the plan at hand -
even when
the plan was to forget it all

Solace of the sea
whisper to us
our own secrets
things we lost in the storm -
broken kettles, tarnished floorboards
and melted candles

Someday we'll return
dear waters,
to claim our things anew;
but until that moment comes
dear waters,
all our things belong to you.

I WOULD be ignorant as the dawn
That has looked down
On that old queen measuring a town
With the pin of a brooch,
Or on the withered men that saw
From their pedantic Babylon
The careless planets in their courses,
The stars fade out where the moon comes.
And took their tablets and did sums;
I would be ignorant as the dawn
That merely stood, rocking the glittering coach
Above the cloudy shoulders of the horses;
I would be -- for no knowledge is worth a straw --
Ignorant and wanton as the dawn.

A little black thing among the snow:
Crying weep, weep, in notes of woe!
Where are thy father & mother? say?
They are both gone up to the church to pray.

Because I was happy upon the heath.
And smil’d among the winters snow:
They clothed me in the clothes of death.
And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

And because I am happy. & dance & sing.
They think they have done me no injury:
And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King,
Who made up a heaven of our misery.

I (Bread and Music)

Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.

II

My heart has become as hard as a city street,
The horses trample upon it, it sings like iron,
All day long and all night long they beat,
They ring like the hooves of time.
My heart has become as drab as a city park,
The grass is worn with the feet of shameless lovers,
A match is struck, there is kissing in the dark,
The moon comes, pale with sleep.
My heart is torn with the sound of raucous voices,
They shout from the slums, from the streets, from the crowded places,
And tunes from the hurdy-gurdy that coldly rejoices
Shoot arrows into my heart.

III

Dead Cleopatra lies in a crystal casket,
Wrapped and spiced by the cunningest of hands.
Around her neck they have put a golden necklace,
Her tatbebs, it is said, are worn with sands.
Dead Cleopatra was once revered in Egypt,
Warm-eyed she was, this princess of the South.
Now she is old and dry and faded,
With black bitumen they have sealed up her mouth.
O sweet clean earth, from whom the green blade cometh!
When we are dead, my best beloved and I,
Close well above us, that we may rest forever,
Sending up grass and blossoms to the sky.

IV

In the noisy street,
Where the sifted sunlight yellows the pallid faces,
Sudden I close my eyes, and on my eyelids
Feel from the far-off sea a cool faint spray,--
A breath on my cheek,
From the tumbling breakers and foam, the hard sand shattered,
Gulls in the high wind whistling, flashing waters,
Smoke from the flashing waters blown on rocks;
--And I know once more,
O dearly beloved! that all these seas are between us,
Tumult and madness, desolate save for the sea-gulls,
You on the farther shore, and I in this street.