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As the exile wronged from his birthright's tomb
Recounts bare-kneed before a worshipped moon
The prayers unanswered yet by deed of man,
These wintered weeks shall till death's fertile
land.
------
I am two fools, I know,
For loving, and for saying so
In whining poetry;
-- John Donne
(The Triple Fool)
This side of the truth,
You may not see,
That all is undone,
Under the unminding skies,
Of innocence and guilt
Before you move to make
One gesture of the heart or head
-- Dylan Thomas
(This Side Of The Truth)
There is grey in your hair...
The last stroke of midnight dies.
All day in the
one chair
From dream to dream and rhyme to rhyme I have ranged
In rambling talk with an image of air:
Vague memories, nothing but memories.
-- William Butler Yeats
(Broken Dreams)
Who can trust tomorrow?
-- Lord Byron
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------
A Pleonexic Urge
The Root Of Motion
When The Candles Are Out
Love Songs To The Dead
Titans And Turncoats
This Lovers' Life We Lead (for jolen)
Prayers To A Ghost
Your Opening Eyes Nigh (joliens ©)
The Enterprise Of The New Routine
Orphans And Demagogues (sonnets)
Nocturnal Emissions (written for jolen casper)
The Fortune Of Failure (written with jolen casper)
Transcension Beneath The Bitter Sun
Watching The Furnace Fire
-
Adventures Of The Crimson Enigma
-
Memoirs Of A Mercenary (first draft)
-
My True History (and other myths)
-
I Never Knew Him
-
Midnight Rambling
-
From The Silence
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And though into his palm the silver
falls,
Shall I my spinning sun ever recall:
In you I found that place of flesh and blood,
Where time and toil toll never on my love.
------
Only themselves understand themselves
And the
like of themselves,
As souls only understand souls.
-- Walt Whitman
(Perfections)
If I had been alone this afternoon,
I should have gone outside.
-- Isak Dinesen
(Shadows On The Grass -
The Great Gesture)
Why did the morning dawn to break
So great, so pure a spell,
And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek
Where your cool radiance fell?
-- Emily Brontë
(Stars)
Forgive Me -
Forgive me for not answering your eyes -
For not having made an indication
Of that which you can devise.
-- Jack Kerouac
(241st Chorus)
You try me out, for I am young.
-- Homer
(The Illiad)
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