Standing on the tiptoe
of my universe
I found I had

Nothing but love to offer
While the nature of
Anonymous cruel indifference
Can seem unnameably cold
I admired the ability of it

To make us feel free
Insolent as my fate had been
Greener than the word May

The mast of these afternoons
Only beggared for moderation
And that enraptured simplicity
From which I came
That was enough, and so were

The rest of the years that I was given
at the asylum of the eucalypti
I would rest, and it would be
Wondrous and christening
Like a white sunset.

In my love of day
My love invents another day
In my window night
Another night is invented

We are what we think
So carnival of carnal imaginations
Be still, learn to concentrate
For the calligraphy of fate

Shows sign-seeds of
Syllable-clusters, rampant sparks
That the stars in my hands
Invents a touch that deconstructs

Itself, these eyes that have
Taken these pages by storm
And this heart that cannot
Let any portion of the
World go unloved alone.

I draw these letters
Alphabets I was taught
The day draws its images
The night will blow them over
Forever, they are mere words

Writing in the sand
Symbols do not return
They are invisible
For the rest of years
No one will read

Poems left unpublished
No one will read
Novels burnt before
Marketing, but writing
Is my way out, my music

And my bread, the milk
And wine of my loneliness
So what am I to do?
These poems sharpen
My emotions, they love me

Across the night
Where I am but a ghost
In the conjunction of stars
I drew these letters on
A white canvas, they are

More me than anything
Else I have or will own
They know me better
Than the women who come
And go in my life

I will tell them my secrets
Poetry has set fire
To all poems, but I am that
Living fire, I am that warmth
Of a thousand glorious sunsets.

During our love, houses were completed
spiritual homes where you
rebuilt my foundations

idealistic comforts that
somehow I had forgotten
among the gardens, listing
the essential spiritual pleasure
that had no country to root for

but accepted all beings
During our love, we felt
a peace where we were completed

finally, irrevocably, whole
as if lost forever previously
our touch was that mutual
sensation of shared mysticism
the chime of fortitude

and unity so foreign to our
previous human experience
you and I were still like

strange visions to behold
universal love, at just
the right temperature.

We scattered to the night
like diamonds and stars
owls of forever
never to be seen or heard

from again, my friends
went off, I carried their words
in my pockets, on my heart
those burning treasures

the years of bones and
making it alone
The private hours that gnaw
At the days like lost battles

Humiliations too common
In a cruel world like this one
We scattered to the night
Like lost lovers of literature

Desecrated by the seasons
The kind of wet deep down sorrow
That each broken heart multiplies
Here is where every speech ends

Here is what they don’t say
What happens after the story
Here the star is black
And the light empties out
Even of the shadows.

Birdsong brings relief
To my inner music
Whispers that became a voice
Of a girl looking at the moon
That was my daughter and not

Ecstatic for some star practice
Souls that laugh in light
Watersong brings relief
To my inner waiting
Some song ran through me

Whispers that became a melody
Lovesong brings relief
To all the sorts of desires
I used to play in my mind
Whispers that became a voice

How blind and deaf I was
Truthsong sees unity everywhere
Even in the sorrow and drama of the world
The minute I realized this
I was never the same again

Spirit sees nothing to criticize
Soulsong loves an entire lifetime
No matters the ills, no matter the obstacles.

So sing me a song, O love
O purity O deep music
Let me serve a higher cause
Like stainless endless radiance.