Too too sweet for my ears,
What angelic song of your loveliness
Could ever sweep low enough
To reach my soul?
Does the hermit crab
Ever delight in the
Sweet and free
Birdsong?

Naked, you are simple as one of your hands,
smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round:
you have moon-lines, apple-pathways:
naked, you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.

Naked, you are blue as a night in Cuba;
you have vines and stars in your hair;
naked you are spacious and yellow
as summer in a golden church.

Naked, you are tiny as one of your nails -
curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
and you withdraw to the underground world,

as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores:
your clear light dims, gets dressed - drops its leaves -
and becomes a naked hand again.

I have no complaint
prosperity that
the golden Muses
gave me was no
delusion: dead, I
won't be forgotten

and sometimes getting away with it
doesn't get rid of the guilt
the shame. the fear.
the knot in your stomach
that clenches your
soul
hurtful with anticipation
waiting
for the fall

kiss me on the cheek,
hand me your cigarette,
park on the grass,
kiss em and **** em
love em and leave em.
fill my lungs with the smoke of euphoria,
fill my mind with the thoughts of nothing,
nothing at all,
nothing important.
fill my heart with your heart,
with your voice,
your strumming, drumming and bumming.
i may lose my mind, but my heart is in whole.
holes holes holes

If one looks close enough
they may see my heart
spread thinly for miles

but everyone just finds it nice to look at

We too, we too, descending once again
The hills of our own land, we too have heard
Far off—Ah, que ce cor a longue haleine—
The horn of Roland in the passages of Spain,
The first, the second blast, the failing third,
And with the third turned back and climbed once more
The steep road southward, and heard faint the sound
Of swords, of horses, the disastrous war,
And crossed the dark defile at last, and found
At Roncevaux upon the darkening plain
The dead against the dead and on the silent ground
The silent slain—

Stars in our eyes
Tears in the sky
I've seen you alone
So it is

Tides pull us

The moon makes you
Touches you, oh so
Becoming
Rise up into me

Soundless
Symphonies
Just like it should be
Trading places
I'll never forget how your face is

For a second the stars aren't alone
Neither am I

I have found, yes, I have found the wealth of the Divine Name's gem.
My true guru gave me a priceless thing. With his grace, I accepted it.
I found the capital of my several births; I have lost the whole rest of the world.
No one can spend it, no one can steal it. Day by day it increases one and a quarter times.
On the boat of truth, the boatman was my true guru. I came across the ocean of existence.
Mira's Lord is the Mountain-Holder, the suave lover, of whom I merrily, merrily sing.