1.
Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-
that's just the way I am.
2.
I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,
......
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas
Cos' turkeys just wanna hav fun
Turkeys are cool, turkeys are wicked
An every turkey has a Mum.
Be nice to yu turkeys dis christmas,
Don't eat it, keep it alive,
It could be yu mate, an not on your plate
Say, Yo! Turkey I'm on your side.
I got lots of friends who are turkeys
An all of dem fear christmas time,
......
A Conversation Poem, April, 1798
No cloud, no relique of the sunken day
Distinguishes the West, no long thin slip
Of sullen light, no obscure trembling hues.
Come, we will rest on this old mossy bridge!
You see the glimmer of the stream beneath,
But hear no murmuring: it flows silently.
O'er its soft bed of verdure. All is still.
A balmy night! and though the stars be dim,
......
No man is an island,
Entire of itself,
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
......
If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
......
Stella Williams was eight years old, living with her widowed mother-
Happily, though a bit lonely, like powder blue skies, sans sunset color.
The Williams lived in a rural area, with no child Stella's age, nearby.
A farmer in the valley, was the only neighbor, like waves of no reply.
Still, school hours were fun for Stella, like rollicking days of summer;
When plum sun, waltzed with stars of glitter, often going undercover.
Stella, at times, threw coins in their well, to wish for a special friend,
......
Mary Lou Sims was young and enterprising, like stars routing dark;
Or mauve dawn on the verge of discovery, awaiting time's remarks.
Mary Lou's best friend was Cora Mann, ever since sweet childhood;
When they'd sat in zesty school together, in the town of 'Wildwood.'
They dreamed of opening an antique shop, like an old rose garden;
Awash in butterscotch sun's long memory, scents roaming, wanton.
Other friends visited Mary Lou frequently, like frilly clouds visit sun;
......
Unseen pathways ahead are full
Of switchbacks and great ruts.
Should you get a foot entangled -
I can help you regain your steps.
None of the routes are easy;
There's no formidable plan.
I only know forward is the way
So I will follow behind.
......
City lights, city lights –
Look at all the city lights!
Some are red, some are blue –
Some light up a roof –
Such are our summer nights.
A therapeutic wind blows
As I dare to look below
At the freeway steadily
Moving as an artery
......
If I speak the truth,
Under the cold light of the moon,
I wish I had never met you.
You painted yourself a saint—
Sweet, devoted, promising the world.
But you were a thief,
Taking everything from me,
Leaving nothing but emptiness.
......