“come and love with love that’s true”

come and love with love that’s true
we all should love, and enough we have, if we but look
our pages written in a book, to find a love been written of
children find their love and fancy, but childhood is the greatest fantasy,
and it is so simple
the line is so small
but we look there’s but none at all, and yet the lines that we see by day
come again and again, i observed this morning
the lines of trees, of bucking birds bill, of the architecture of my window sill
oh these things i love!
such simple lines
who has drawn them? be it divine?
that i know that i know not, and yet my loves’ no more distraught
for i see minds with bolden lines, i fancy them quietly in my mind
this one inspired, cold but kind, a love i do not fear to find.

“how?”

it tastes familiar
like it moved through me before
on branches that broke fast
i fell upon the floor
the ground broke no fall
for i had fallen far
it was a friend of past
and called me to the its door
i ran to knock so loud
and it answered like before
saying, ‘come on in, be proud’
you’ve found me once again
i should have left you now
i told it once again
but now i see, i bow
to blow you in the wind
once again

“ode to a bee”

you know you know, i hope i do as well
entangled in case of moving out
the clouds that cross this valley’s dell
oh! all these lands I think about
i hope i see, and fetch the flower
and the pollen, so pristine, to the bee
i am a being, so not so far–
from the bee that dies by hour

oh little legs, that lift from touch
move all about the air and bending
i was born here, amongst cliffs ending
this is my place, its meaning’s much

and how they condescend your meaning!
and trust me not, i be a critic too
but, you seldom bother, me to move
and make for us the honey dripping
while i am drifting, you say it soothes
and well it does! and well it moves!
to feel the spirit, of me ascend
while you about the air do bend
and flutter vicious, as a sea,
to fall, to feet, and obsolete,
and here you meet your end

“ode to a fucking bitch”

fucking bitch who walked on past
she did not smile, she did not laugh
i saw here lips, held tight together
just like the ass cheeks that flabbed behind her
i said a word, hello, or hi
but still this bitch she walked on by
she were not pretty, or caused erection
she merely walked in her direction
a friend beside heard every word
and thought my kindness most absurd
and then i sat to tell my story,
upon this bench, it is cold and storming
and as i sat, the wind blew the sounds of typing
another fucking bitch walked right past by me

“ode to a skylark”

oh loveliest of trees! you carry in your branches strong
the weight that blows your leaves a song,
of maple leaves, wood red of wine, of roots so long
and all the glee the progeny bring all you love along
and create the fruit, of which the body suits
to bring a teary sparrow, to dry eye with your fruits

so long you’ve been, and seen and pained
and yet the age but novem twain
the pain does come, not carry on
hope does come upon a song
when branches wave,
the skylark plays
and living lingers on
though may–be not much,
‘tis enough to be
lost in a forlorn reverie.

“of pondering we have had enough”

of pondering we have had enough,
and enough we have had of thought
we troll down paths, that troll the mountains,
to walk a step, to close a gap, to step above the crack
wander on, to distant ones, ubiquitous, at a lack
to move on to, let one through, to mend to heal the fountains
and take a turn, a grecian urn, of which has no emotions.
‘tis a game we play, to twist and turn
and know not what we’re turning,
to writhe and scatter, so does it matter, it is a game we play
beating down, the sun beats down, a crown it never pondered
and still through space it moves its face
yet turns and never wanders
then while it turns, it also burns, so simple is the sun
that it must be, when we wont be, so simple there is none
so none is good, or understood, nor we know what they have
its flames remain to play this game, for it is a game we play
so we are turned, and often burned and hide from light we’re seeing
is all we’ve done, is take and run, we could be called deceiving
but deceive you, you deceive me, who then has been deceived
‘tis not the breeze, or willow trees, for they know not deceiving
then perplexed, but quickly fixed, we know we know the meaning
you bid well, i bid too, we seem all fine all bright and gleaming
yet wind does blow, willows grow, where you do sit a cleaning
yet of pondering we have had enough
and enough we have had of thought
we will sleep now to find this meaning, a meaning we know not
nor do we speak in tongues of peace, or solemn things
yet we feel peace, we’re not distraught.

“to all my friends who say ‘i know’”

to all my friends who say “i know”
well i do to, now so now must you go?
i don’t even know enough myself
i say i think, i feel, or just it may be so
but really friends, i never know

i’ve never known, nor has my father
he only guessed and said try you
you go try it, i did once, 
i thought of it but have not a clue
i do not, i 
i do not do

and then a girl said, i love just you
i could have so many, but you i choose
so i thought awhile, about what i knew
i knew myself, but i knew not you
so why did so this love undue?
undue for me, but due for you

so to all my friends who say “i know”
i know nothing real, nothing for sure
i say i think, i feel, it may be so
because it may be so, i do not know
but this i know, i know myself
wrought iron bent furious around a shelf
or just an herb in frosting snow
i love you all, but i do not know

“the song of bridal-veil”

oh you know i feel the whimpering winter
feeding at it’s snowflake heels, growing
wanting to set in and quiver
to take the warm ground up and shiver
set aside the oaken leaves
and open toes and summer’s breeze
and make the ants return to earthy ponder
for they have seen enough and wandered
but battles rage along the heavens
a glowing radiant jewel, in space is showing
the nothingness that lies between us
that it does care for what we’re knowing
and all the stars must feel it somehow
while the moon tells night-tales of milky sundown
the planet’s ants are spinning around
in time, in space, the sun sings down down
wobble we and tilt our heads, to see
angular chance of energy, clean beams
when battles rage, emotions stall
as does the summer’s waterfall
that from hetch-hetchy is silky dry
and wipes a droplet from it’s eye, it cries
“when will the light go way? be soothing
and all the ants below stop moving
so my blood may slow, sit seeping
upon hetch-hetchy’s edges and dribbling
when light comes swinging oer’ the branches
and dew-drops fall upon these mountains
i will grow strong and fortify, my lines
will deepen granite earth, in time
and what fell upon me will fall to ground
and i will cry this thunderous sound
the life inside my canyon comes
they know i bring new life from sun
and does tell tales to baby deers
and thoughts are heard, new antler ears
so they will know my giving wails
and that water falls from bridal-veils.