Sonnet Xvii

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

Xvii (I Do Not Love You...)

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

Rain

Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
Remembering again that I shall die
And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
For washing me cleaner than I have been
Since I was born into this solitude.
Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
But here I pray that none whom once I loved
Is dying to-night or lying still awake
Solitary, listening to the rain,

An Old Life

Snow fell in the night.
At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish
mounded softness where
the Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made,
I broomed snow off the car
and drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart
before Amy opened
to yank my Globe out of the bundle.
Back, I set my cup of coffee
beside Jane, still half-asleep,

Love Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

A Fantasy

I'll tell you something: every day
people are dying. And that's just the beginning.
Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,
new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,
trying to decide about this new life.

Then they're in the cemetery, some of them
for the first time. They're frightened of crying,
sometimes of not crying. Someone leans over,
tells them what to do next, which might mean

Two Countries

Skin remembers how long the years grow
when skin is not touched, a gray tunnel
of singleness, feather lost from the tail
of a bird, swirling onto a step,
swept away by someone who never saw
it was a feather. Skin ate, walked,
slept by itself, knew how to raise a
see-you-later hand. But skin felt
it was never seen, never known as
a land on the map, nose like a city,

Lest We Forget

Lest we forget
Those who were blinded
So that we may see
Lest we forget
Those who were deafened
So that we may hear
Lest we forget
Those who were silenced
So that we may speak
Lest we forget

By The Seaside

The sun is couched, the sea-fowl gone to rest,
And the wild storm hath somewhere found a nest;
Air slumbers--wave with wave no longer strives,
Only a heaving of the deep survives,
A tell-tale motion! soon will it be laid,
And by the tide alone the water swayed.
Stealthy withdrawings, interminglings mild
Of light with shade in beauty reconciled--
Such is the prospect far as sight can range,
The soothing recompence, the welcome change.

Let These Be Your Desires

Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself
But if your love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart

I Have A Fire For You In My Mouth

218

I have a fire for you in my mouth, but I have a hundred seals
on my tongue.
The flames which I have in my heart would make one mouth-
ful of both worlds.
Though the entire world should pass away, without the world
I possess the kingdom of a hundred worlds.
Caravans which are loaded with sugar I have in motion for
the Egypt of nonexistence.

Birthday, Birthday, Happy Birthday

This is a very special day
Your friendship has filled my life far beyond what words can say
I give thanks to the Lord for sending you my way
That's why we celebrate today
Happy Birthday!





A Mountain Speaks

That distant valley
Far below
Was I...as a child
........Eons ago

I've known great happiness
Shared...such strife
As that of the dinosaur
Struggling for life

Thank You Dad (Father Father Father Father)

Dad,
A great many thanks for all you have done
Without you my life would not have begun
You have been there when I most needed you
You have helped to guide me my whole life through
We have shared both the good times and the bad
But most of all, thank you for being my dad
I love you


If I Weep

If I weep, if I come with excuses, my beloved puts cotton wool in his ears.
Every cruelty which he commits becomes him, every cruelty which he commits I endure.
If he accounts me nonexistent, I account his tyranny generosity.
The cure of the ache of my heart is the ache for him; how shall I not surrender my heart to his ache?
Only then are glory and respect mine, when his glorious love renders me contemptible.
Only then does the vine of my body become wine, when the wine-presser stamps on me and spurns me underfoot.

Again Thanks-I-Am-Giving~~~~~(Ghazal)

In my life there is room after room of good things
my man is one room for whom thanks-I-am-giving.
.
I do not know what good seeds I have been sowing
but for not reaping from my bad deeds thanks-I-am-giving.
.
Every day my life kite through the sky is tripping
and through good times and bad times is zipping but thanks-I-am-giving.
.
The morning breeze a brand new essence is bringing

. I Can'T Stop Loving Her! (Dark

Behind her doors, live a pool of joy.
Whiles smiles cover our face
A mist of confusion
Awaits at our gates
After days of gladness
The bitterness of love kicks in
Like hungry dogs we fight!
Spitting words that can break a heart!
Like branches we fall apart
Her memories torture my head

Bessie's Boil

Says I to my Missis: "Ba goom, lass! you've something I see, on your mind."
Says she: "You are right, Sam, I've something. It 'appens it's on me be'ind.
A Boil as 'ud make Job jealous. It 'urts me no end when I sit."
Says I: "Go to 'ospittel, Missis. They might 'ave to coot it a bit."
Says she: "I just 'ate to be showin' the part of me person it's at."
Says I: "Don't be fussy; them doctors see sights more 'orrid than that."

So Misses goes off togged up tasty, and there at the 'ospittel door

**a Cheerful Poem For Whom Will Be Caught..For The Big Rat

note: iam still under the attack of the Rats WHOM THANKFULLY push my poems to be advanced in top 500.....and by the way..they come to the trap by themselves...many have been caught....26/9/09...


I close my windows, my doors and for you a trap I left in WHICH you will be caught,

...for my poems which have been degraded to 2 and to 7. eight.

. put for you some pieces of poisonous meet, little biscuit..and on A golden plate some sticky cheese and broken bone
.
the great, fruitful trees with hard stones always will be thrown by whom has ugly trait...

A Nature Lover's Diary

i love the river between the banks
beshrew a drinker who doesn't give thanks

i love the breeze hitting my face
it's from my God, a very huge grace

i love the culver flying free
holding a branch of an olive tree

i love the sun of a shiny day