The mind is its own beautiful prisoner. Mind looked long at the sticky moon opening in dusk her new wings then decently hanged himself,one afternoon. The last thing he saw was you naked amid unnaked things.

one pierced moment whiter than the rest -turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.

may i be i is the only prayer--not may i be great or good or beautiful or wise or strong today... may i be me....five foot eleven, brown hair/eyed, smart, serious, happy, frustrated, impatient, joyful, running, sleeping, smiling, eating, trying, believing, listening, being & becoming.

Lovers alone wear sunlight.

The theory of the free press is not that the truth will be presented completely or perfectly in any one instance, but that the truth will emerge from free discussion

-tomorrow is our permanent address and there they’ll scarcely find us(if they do, we’ll move away still further:into now

twice I have lived forever in a smile