I learned life were no dream I learned truth deceived Man is not God Life is a century Death an instant

If you believe you're a poet, then you're saved.

My father took me back home, back to Greenwich Village, and he thought by taking me out of the orphanage he'd be out of the World War too. But no way - they got him anyway. He went in the Navy and then I lived on the streets.

Spirit is Life. It flows thru the death of me endlessly like a river unafraid of becoming the sea.

The fall of man stands a lie before Beethoven, a truth before Hitler.

I moved up over Lower East Side and I was adopted by eight foster parents; I lived all over New York City with these parents, man, till I was about ten years old.

But when the conquered spirit breaks free And indicates a new light Who'll take care of the cats?