flowering in the summertime;
but winter comes to all..
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It was a late, late night;
primitive urges which peoplemight never have suspected of youdemanding to be slaked,and slaked and slaked and slaked againcopulation andpopulation meetingmore than once in waysno way related toplanned parenthoodbut that’s already inthe distant past – the nightsare your own; the daybelongs to others;it’s morning now; you openan eye or two; stretchluxuriously without a hintof shame; thena…
Between two who are talking;
in the listeningafter wisdom spoken;the moment as the pen’s put down;the moment after the book is lowered;between two thoughts;just before speech;as cup’s put back on saucer;knife and fork sing plate;just before the inward breath,and just after the outward breath,between the warm memoryand the fond association;just before the smile is smiled;when the last tear has dropped;just…
My mistress’ bedde, my wylling scholeroom is,
her scorns, her prayse, to me as equalle are;her swete chastisement, alle thatte I may aske;In her anatomie, I lerne newe worldes;I am Columbus, sayling to strange shores,fynde alle thynges newe; I am as one fresshe-taughte;nought of our schyppe to speke of myne or yours;Whanne infants, we are all shored safelie uppeby parentes luve, upon…
By the edge of the mini-pond
there’s this stone.I’d like to call it a rockbecause that sounds more dignifiedand metaphorical and carriesmore tradition, butit’s a stoneand on it grows a lichen;not the vivid, flat, yellow and vermilion and red and blacklichen that grows on stone wallsby the seaside; this onehas those colours at its edgebut has a furry crop of tiny…
The wise love wisely.
surface from their sleep,they see nought but heavenly bluein which the world then gently, slowly shapes itselfas if this whole created world were buta single act of love; and within that love,their love is wisdom, knowledge, law;as they emerge from their wise sleep,this is what they are.The wise love wisely; when they look at you,(you…
What I say and what I write
as foolishness and folly; forI talk of boundless things, and of infinity;which by their nature, are beyondthe human mind, the human pen;should I then not and never speak of such?Or are these boundless thingsjust what mankind should talk about –seeking the laws of atoms, or of space, onlyto find the boundlessness yet further offthan men…