I have defined poetry as a 'passionate pursuit of the Real.

Irony is the glory of slaves.

Learning To believe you are magnificent. And gradually to discover that you are not magnificent. Enough labor for one human life.

All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence.

Forget the suffering You caused others. Forget the suffering Others caused you. The waters run and run, Springs sparkle and are done, You walk the earth you are forgetting.

You see how I try To reach with words What matters most And how I fail.

Men will clutch at illusions when they have nothing else to hold to.