It’s a situation

knowing poetrypoems come and gobut the knowing staysand grows; ask them,they know that knowing.

has anything to do with busyness..?They turn enthusiasm into ‘duty’;turn duty into guilt…How I love those peoplewho always have time for anyone..they are like swans:serenity above; activity below;never busy; always active;floating white, serene, unruffled,like swans; like lotus flowers;like love.

a face like the worn map of tragedylined with a life of servicethat should have ended in an honoured peaceamong those you bore and loveyour hands reaching outto the TV camerabegging for water, foodor beseechingin some unrecognisable, ineffectivelocal language, orcursing an enemy not visiblewho made a ruin of your homeor being carried unceremoniouslybetween urgent hands…

My Beloved saidTell me first what you know of truth‘One and one make two,– as You and I’My Beloved saidTell me more of truth‘Love draws me to Youas the white moth to the candle’s flame’My Beloved saidTell me more of truth‘Love makes You and meinto one single perfect love’My Beloved saidThis is the measure of…

makes it unwise for them to purchase guns…that means, I guess, those whose statewas discovered before they boughttheir first, or second, or fourteenth gun..but what of those whose mental healthis dangerously unbalanced, afterthey buy their guns and use them?who graduate enthusiasticallyfrom air-rifles aimed at beer cans,to planning how to gun downtheir teachers or their fellow…

but together – lawdy lawd…they’ve exhausted our sympathy,our advice, our sympathy again…they love ‘making up’more than rowing, separating – don’t we all?but they love making up, evenmore than loving…