POETRY

THE END   If I could hold you in my heart,  if only I could wrap you in me,  As I would be happy!  But now the memory card before  once again I unrolled the course  of our journey so far, here where we part. And to say that you’ve never, ever been  some your reality, my love,  and never …

YOU SHOULD NOT KNOW THE DESPAIR Should not you know despair if the stars sparkle every night; If the dew falls silent at night and the sun gilds the morning. Should not you know despair, although the tears to flow in rivers: are not the most favorite years forever in your heart? Cry, you cry, so it must be; The …

I CAN NOT EXIST WITHOUT YOU I can not exist without you. I forget about everything but to see you: my life seems to stop there, I look ahead. You’ve me absorbed.   Right now I have a feeling as to dissolve:  I would be very sad without hope to see you soon.  I’d be afraid to break away from …

HALLUCINATION He invaded my house, passed the gate of the courtyard, went through the cracks destination. Then, standing, alive, in the middle of the courtyard, he explains the truth of this beautiful cock I chuckled, she has much still to be clarified. This newborn piglet is wonderful, I giggled as before. She still takes me back: these flowers are really …

LAND OF SPARROWS Maybe you think: this is a dark red flower flowing on the rock, these forms aggregates at the edges of the trenches are shepherds doze. The earth, as he depicted the brush of God, it is a field ready for plowing, for wheat, the walks, the songs. Maybe you think, does not know, how could he know …

HEART Some sell their blood. You will sell the heart. Either that or the soul. The hard part is to pull out the damn thing. A kind of spiral movement, like an oyster shell, your spine a pulse, and then, hey presto! It is in your mouth. Nearly you put yourself in turmoil, like un’attinia ejecting a stone. There is …

ROSE FLOWER Rose flower, body like honey. He rose garden, hair like night, hold the white snow of her swollen breasts. It brings snow, outside the door of snow two glasses of wine covered with white snow. Window of snow, in the window of white snow two valleys rose flaming, or two candles flaming two candles burning burning himself, to …

FROM A NOTEBOOK The whiteness near and far. The cold, the hush. A first word stops the blizzard, steps out into fresh candor. You ask no more. Each never taken stride leads onward, though in circles ever smaller, smaller. The vertigo upholds you. And now to glide, across the frozen pond, steelshod, to chase its dreamless oval, with loop and …

POETRY IS A BOMB ATTACK CELESTIAL I’m absent, but the bottom of this there is no expectation of myself, and this expectation is another form of presence, waiting for my return. I live in the other objects, giving a little trip of my life in certain trees and certain stones, which I have waited many years. They are tired of …

I WANT TO GO BACK I want to go back the ancient sweetness crying alone. So I said to her not to separate us. (Takuboku Ishikawa) http://www.amazon.com/Knowing-Oneself-Too-Well-Selected/dp/061534562X/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8