Look there to hers the dark beauty his shop.
Where red meat dripps forever sweet with wine.
Physical is my legend too short is my life.
The blood of each child I held, never born.
Carving a spoked wooden wheel in the sand.
The creative ones and my lifes enthusiasm.
Where two smiles meet here underneeth.
Becoming then one, stormy clouds full of rain.
Of the one wise male then wiser is the female.
I come under the scissors, swimming machine.
Which is when, where two collid apart, soft violently.
The grass is green,
sap of the tree parts the leaves, needles the eye.
And to share the wave of our spent heavy sucess.
There it died and here where you brought it up.
Stoppin then starting,
rushing to judgment and time when it is divided.
The joy of no more violence,
no assault being human brought forth of our hands.
Which gives life unto that is itself, what I'm after.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem