#AmericanWriters
And when that music starts there is no time, she takes you ba… over fifteen years, as if yesterda… a song immortalized. Do you know h… I met her once, with my lover: “…
I’m shaking from another man but remembering beating you on Sunday evening, a pal of solitude as Veruschka before Adolph Hitler’s lawyers did
Not as bad as you are And the next time that I see you I shall be old, a figure Couched from under acquaducts Where you still remain abroad a si…
A quart of champagne, one pill too… and a paper from the state saying… Was it the pills or champagne no simply some orange roses in a glas… on the bureau to transport myth fr…
Our age bereft of nobility How can our faces show it? I look for love. My lips stand out dry and cracked with want
I sit in Lees. At 11:40 PM with Jimmy the pusher. He teaches me Ju Ju. Hot on the table before us shrimp foo yong, rice and mushroom chow yuke. Up the street under the…
The scene changes Five hours later and I come into a room where a clock ticks. I find a pillow to
Destiny lies behind our forces and what lives in the soul dies not. It inhabits our dreams as perpetual as light. As the spring grass flowers,
O poetry, visit this house often, imbue my life with success, leave me not alone, give me a wife and home. Take this curse off
For I have seen love and his face is choice Heart of H… a flesh of pure fire, fusing from… where all Motion is one. And I have known
'You Talk Of Going But Don’t… ’ Even Have A Suit… (A Series of Repetitions) I will be an old man sometime And live in a dark room somewhere.
And with great fear I inhabit the… What wrecks of the mind await me,… to dull the senses, what little I… what more can be taken away? The fear of travelling, of the fut…
I was young once; and on poverty another palace revolution without… Taking the day the field to wards surrender of material posses…
Perhaps some day you shall find me… as I blow smoke out my mouth While you walk the riverbank in the rain on Sunday evening. Looking for jazz, hearing love’s b…
A simple poem About love is what I want To write: words Without mystery, but Shoulders touching