My quietness has a man in it, he is transparent
and he carries me quietly, like a gondola, through the streets.
He has several likenesses, like stars and years, like numerals.
My quietness has a number of naked selves,
so many pistols I have borrowed to protect myselves
from creatures who too readily recognize my weapons
and have murder in their heart!
though in winter
they are warm as roses, in the desert
......
War is never over
Thought the treaties may be signed
The memories of the battles
Are forever in our minds
War is never over
So when you welcome heroes home
Remember in their minds they hold
Memories known to them alone
......
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost;
And yet I am! and live with shadows tost
Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,
Into the living sea of waking dreams,
Where there is neither sense of life nor joys,
......
About the size of an old-style dollar bill,
American or Canadian,
mostly the same whites, gray greens, and steel grays
-this little painting (a sketch for a larger one?)
has never earned any money in its life.
Useless and free., it has spent seventy years
as a minor family relic handed along collaterally to owners
who looked at it sometimes, or didn't bother to.
It must be Nova Scotia; only there
......
Samuel Woodruff was a very old man, who once drummed for the army;
That marched to his rhythmic music, along with all fifers, playing hearty.
That was a lifetime ago, in dawn days so pink, golden, and richly green;
Like petal strewn time moving backward, to the premiere, pivotal scene.
Samuel never stopped playing drums, like mulberry heartbeats of sunset,
And played them after his daily walks; like the love you will never forget.
His fast friend, Comet, followed him, through fields of fascination flowers;
......
A Star’s shine gazing through void,
The shine is unique but never rare.
Earth is where we think “it’s a light”,
“Is it orphaned? Is it lost?”
In distant skies, travels lone as far,
As far we can see as a tiny dot.
Gleaming away from infinite night,
Concerns itself to be seen in sight.
it says,
......
Flashing with hues of footprints in a rainy forest,
That storms in the white space of my mind!
Not again, I ask myself, what’s a memory?
A river that flows upon the pebbles of the past?
Or a Garden that nourishes my lifeless static?
Yet, in its fleeting dance, every legacy is crafted.
Neither the buzzing bug that flew to hurt me today,
Nor the marching mantis I tried to dodge yesterday,
These flashes are of the taste I had in drops of polio!
......
Samuel Woodruff was a very old man, who once drummed for the army;
That marched to his rhythmic music, along with all fifers, playing hearty.
That was a lifetime ago, in dawn days so pink, golden, and richly green;
Like petal strewn time moving backward, to the premiere, pivotal scene.
Samuel never stopped playing drums, like mulberry heartbeats of sunset,
And played them after his daily walks; like the love you will never forget.
His fast friend, Comet, followed him, through fields of fascination flowers;
......
It's the New Year's boom
with colored fireworks lauding,
the toast of the town.
The proud, old guard has vanished,
with its dreams, yet unvanquished.
Hues light the plum night;
'midst crash and bang in the skies.
Starry-eyed moon glows.
The past's still following me,
......
i wanted to write about you
lovely cherry
you didn't ask to be born too
but you are glad you do
i wanted to write about you
cuz you are not like anyone i knew
you didn't say anything you want to be
you just ARE everything you want to be
......