I am someone who proudly and humbly affirms that love is the mystery-of-mysteries, and that nothing measurable matters 'a very good God damn'; that 'an artist, a man, a failure' is no mere whenfully accreting mechanism, but a givingly eternal complexity-neither some soulless and heartless ultrapredatory infra-animal nor any understandingly knowing and believing and thinking automaton, but a naturally and miraculously whole human being-a feelingly illimitable individual; whose only happiness is to transcend himself, whose every agony is to grow.

Nobody else can be alive for you; nor can you be alive for anybody else.

all by all and deep by deep and more by more they dream their sleep noone and anyone earth by april wish by spirit and if by yes

Sweet springtime is my time is your time is our time for springtime is love time and viva sweet love.

...and down they forgot as up they grew.

Kisses are a better fate than wisdom.

Well, write poetry, for God's sake, it's the only thing that matters.