Understand, I am always trying to… what the soul is, and where hidden, and what shape and so, last week,
This is the place you would rather not know about, this is the place that will in hab… this is the place you cannot imagi… this is the place that will finall…
El poniente impecable en esplendor… quebró a filo de espada las distan… Suave como un sauzal está la noche… Rojos chisporrotean los remolinos de las bruscas hogue…
My daughter plays on the floor with plastic letters, red, blue & hard yellow, learning how to spell, spelling,
the Way of St James the power of faith prevailed along camino St James rough land akin to rough seas mythical argonauts sailed
Arms and the girl I sing - O rare arms that are braceleted and white… arms that were lovely Helen’s, in… Greek slaughtered Trojan. Helen w… Scape-nanny call her; wars for tur…
“you know,” she said, “you were at the bar so you didn’t see but I danced with this guy. we danced and we danced close.
My fancies are fireflies, — Specks of living light twinkling in the dark. he voice of wayside pansies, that do not attract the careless g…
Come with me into the field of sunflowers. Their faces are burnished disks, their dry spines creak like ship masts,
Let me tell you a little story About Miss Edith Gee; She lived in Clevedon Terrace At number 83. She’d a slight squint in her left…
Eyes are the windows to the soul Is that why they are called blinds… To blind the world of our messes Our distresses as we distrust. To hide from judgement, expectatio…
Now they are no longer any trouble to each other he can turn things over, get down… of things that never happened, all… unfinishable business.
Doom is dark and deeper than any s… Upon what man it fall In spring, day-wishing flowers app… Avalanche sliding, white snow from… That he should leave his house,
The sun beats down on his unyieldi… as he stands tall, his eyes fixed… He’s weathered the storms, worn th… and emerged stronger, tempered lik… He knows the weight of his own nam…
I see you drinking at a fountain w… blue hands, no, your hands are not… they are small, and the fountain i… where you wrote me that last lette… I answered and never heard from yo…
Groping back to bed after a piss I part thick curtains, and am star… The rapid clouds, the moon’s clean… Four o’clock: wedge-shadowed garde… Under a cavernous, a wind-picked s…
Law, say the gardeners, is the sun… Law is the one All gardeners obey To-morrow, yesterday, to-day. Law is the wisdom of the old,
The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said; The recent buds relax and spread, Their greenness is a kind of grief… Is it that they are born again
I note the obvious differences in the human family. Some of us are serious, some thrive on comedy. Some declare their lives are lived
there’s a bluebird in my heart tha… wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not goi… to let anybody see
...and the livin’s easy summer... soaking up all the season has to offer hair down kick back relax lounge... the livin’s easy
Del otro lado de la puerta un homb… deja caer su corrupción. En vano elevará esta noche una plegaria a su curioso dios, que es tres, do… y se dirá que es inmortal. Ahora
How did I get so dutiful? Was I… Going around as a child with a sma… sweeping up dirt I didn’t make, or out into the yard with a stunte… weeding the gardens of others
On a summer morning I sat down on a hillside to think about God – a worthy pastime.
Grub-white mulberries redden among… I’ll go out and sit in white like… Doing nothing. July’s juice round… This park is fleshed with idiot pe… White catalpa flowers tower, toppl…
My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hum… equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there t… Here the clam deep in the speckled…
It is December in Wicklow: Alders dripping, birches Inheriting the last light, The ash tree cold to look at. A comet that was lost
My mistress’ eyes are nothing like… Coral is far more red than her lip… If snow be white, why then her bre… If hairs be wires, black wires gro… I have seen roses damasked, red an…
This is the lair of the landlady She is a raw voice loose in the rooms beneath me. the continuous henyard
How can he write of sunny, joyful… When sadness weighs heavily on his… How can he think of uplifting rhym… When they’re several thousand mile… His words are flat; and his lines…