Let us not be slaves to our fears.
But servants to our hearts.

My body, now, is an old mansion.
Iron gates and heavy oak doors.

Your kiss. Your touch.
Sacred phantoms.
Lingering and supernatural.

Oh, that you would haunt my home once more...

April doesnt hurt here
Like it does in New England
The ground
Vast and brown
Surrounds dry towns
Located in the dust
Of the coming locust
Live for survival, not for 'kicks'
Be a bangtail describer,
like of shrouded traveler
in Textile tenement & the birds fighting in yr ears-like Burroughs exact to describe & gettin $
The Angry Hunger
(hunger is anger)
who fears the
hungry feareth
the angry)
And so I came home
To Golden far away
Twas on the horizon
Every blessed day
As we rolled And we rolled
From Donner tragic Pass
Thru April in Nevada And out Salt City Way Into the dry Nebraskas And sad Wyomings Where young girls And pretty lover boys
With Mickey Mantle eyes
Wander under moons
Sawing in lost cradle
And Judge O Fasterc
Passes whiggling by To ask of young love: ,,Was it the same wind Of April Plains eve that ruffled the dress
Of my lost love
Louanna
In the Western
Far off night
Lost as the whistle
Of the passing Train
Everywhere West
Roams moaning
The deep basso
- Vom! Vom!
- Was it the same love
Notified my bones As mortify yrs now
Children of the soft
Wyoming April night?
Couldna been!
But was! But was!'
And on the prairie
The wildflower blows
In the night For bees & birds And sleeping hidden Animals of life.
The Chicago
Spitters in the spotty street
Cheap beans, loop, Girls made eyes at me And I had 35 Cents in my jeans -
Then Toledo
Springtime starry
Lover night Of hot rod boys And cool girls A wandering
A wandering
In search of April pain A plash of rain
Will not dispel This fumigatin hell Of lover lane This park of roses Blue as bees
In former airy poses
In aerial O Way hoses
No tamarand And figancine Can the musterand Be less kind
Sol -
Sol -
Bring forth yr Ah Sunflower - Ah me Montana
Phosphorescent Rose
And bridge in
fairly land
I'd understand it all -

I am black
But white is my soul

You are white
But your soul is black

Don't jeer at my skin
For the Almighty meets the soul

And His angels guide it
And they are His best

For their is soul white

I used to believe in destiny
I used to believe in fate
I thought I'd end up at just the right place
And everything would just be great

I used to believe in honesty
In speaking up for what you believe
I thought people would value the truth
I didn't think that they would leave

I used to believe in people
That deep down everyone is good
That's why violence, cruelty, and abuse
Were things that I never understood.

If there is good in everyone
Do people just choose the bad?
Do they decide that life is more fun
When your goal is to make others sad?

If being honest is always best
Then why does it create drama?
Arguments, attacks, and insults...
Why not save ourselves the trauma?

If there is really some higher plan
Why do so many people end up falling flat
People are bullied, abused, homeless
Tell me, what kind of master plan is that?

I used to believe in destiny
Maybe I was just naive
I used to believe in the good
Now I don't know what I believe.