with all that available energy...
it is
not possible to eradicate
what's free and burning
in you, bukowski's gut fire
to write is to be alive
capturing tears, as if essence could be
spoken of and understood
and reality
tasted like an apple.
do it or die, or just cry...

the seed inside of the seed

feel the glove of your hunger
like a cotton fist in my mouth...
I am ripped apart by the same silences as you
scared, like you are
broken in all of the same ways.

enter this body with its cold trace ( Read more... )

"There are times, however, and this is one of them, when even being right feels wrong. What do you say, for instance, about a generation that has been taught that rain is poison and sex is death? If making love might be fatal and if a cool spring breeze on any summer afternoon can turn a crystal blue lake into a puddle of black poison right in ( Read more... )

It was his fate, his peculiarity, whether he wished it or not, to come out thus on a spit of land which the sea is slowly eating away, and there to stand, like a desolate sea-bird, alone. It was his power, his gift, suddenly to shed all superfluities, to shrink and diminish so that he looked barer and felt sparer, even physically, yet lost none of ( Read more... )

The world is too much with us; late and soon ( Read more... )

There is no insurmountable solitude. All paths lead to the same goal: to convey to others what we are. And we must pass through solitude and difficulty, isolation and silence, in order to reach forth to the enchanted place where we can dance our clumsy dance and sing our sorrowful song - but in this dance or in this song there are fulfilled the ( Read more... )

Deen and Jude, to pick up the thread...Share ( Read more... )

"Writing causes the affect to slip into the effect...Because it is forgiveness, writing is transformation, transposition, translation ( Read more... )

I am the I ( Read more... )