You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
drunk.
But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
......
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,
......
The cruel laughter of the soul
Laments its flagellation by time,
Ebbed on the flattened stones of
A raped river.
Sorrow, an amanuensis of silence,
Reads the minutes of the last meeting
Held within dying doors, between
Mind and soul, two warring nations
Of a proud heart,
Now asleep with bloodshot eyes.
......
Go, Valentine, and tell that lovely maid
Whom fancy still will portray to my sight,
How here I linger in this sullen shade,
This dreary gloom of dull monastic night;
Say, that every joy of life remote
At evening's closing hour I quit the throng,
Listening in solitude the ring-dome's note,
Who pours like me her solitary song;
Say, that of her absence calls the sorrowing sigh;
Say, that of all her charms I love to speak,
......
My father used to say,
"Superior people never make long visits,
have to be shown Longfellow's grave
nor the glass flowers at Harvard.
Self reliant like the cat --
that takes its prey to privacy,
the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth --
they sometimes enjoy solitude,
and can be robbed of speech
by speech which has delighted them.
......
People often ask me
what are you doing, where are you going.
Well actually I don't know what I'm doing
I don't know where I'm going.
I can still feel my feet on the ground
tomorrow the weather may wear a different gown
despite a date for measured crown.
West to east
Laiden without feast
provide and chase the least.
......
He tastes solitude
on Gama,
Savoury to his buds.
He is a bird,
Pearching hymns,
He is a fig
Among fronds.
Sweltering clouds above are in yoga
Below them, crags — large-hearted and
Deep-seated, with striated bowels —
Faint from the hostile shafts of sunlight.
Iguanas pray fervently through fents
Hewed by dreaded times;
So are south-oriented ivies — straggling
Idly by noon, they seek eloquence of
Humming-birds on rock-ruptured
Sequence of dalliances...
......
Oh, I am of art
Though do not mistake me of kind that ignites passion’s roar
Nor am I of kind that drums awe’s core
I am of art that conveys to much misery
Too much depth and sorrow
Too much pity to bring into tomorrow
I am monotone gone days and abstract lucid nights
I am cold-coloured complexations framed in Pyrite’s might
I am brush strokes wretchedly captivating the work I’m yet to do right
Oh the unwanted sketches I’ve forgone
......
Crazy Crazy it never stops there is no time for punctuation
It starts off sounding like an elementary narrative
The alarm sounds sounds downstairs it's the neighbor
The neighbors are smoking probably smoking smoking
The toy on the desk moves moves it moves when you pull it
The trees don't seem to sway sway sway but they're so far away.
So How can you tell?
The toilet is never clean, spotless clean clean
The windows are open
Sometimes,
......