All the World Is in Your Eye
All the world is in your eye that bends like a reed; the wind–your brush, the canvas–seed. With what strokes the world is made the downy moon, the s...
All the world is in your eye that bends like a reed; the wind–your brush, the canvas–seed. With what strokes the world is made the downy moon, the s...
There are moments that linger in the memory. Such a moment I think is this. She stood upon a precipice– to fly or to fall, and unfolded herself before me,...
The world turned back ’roundand said, “You’ve suffered long enough, old man.” May I say that I love you?The words vault, skitter, and ch...
These are the golden moments– Golden boughs. The end may tremble in a mouth’ed O. Yet still they burn unperturbed– tiny lamps of adoration lit...
I opened your book and what did I read? Whispers of heavenly death murmur’d I hear Only an hour before I drowned a mortally wounded fledgling, too young t...
This city speaks not one, not two, but three languages, even four, maybe more. The carefree brown-eyed girl– she thrusts her fingers into the Earth scoops...
I love this city … at least, when it’s not winter. I was riding the Metro toward downtown from Le Plateau-Mont-Royal , and a young man boarded my tr...
REGICIDE – (noun.): (1) one who kills, murders, or shares overt responsibility (as by acting as judge or executioner) for the death of a king especially t...
Volume Three There are special nightmares for the daytime sleeper: little nervous dreams tossed into some brief restless moments of unconsciousness and breaking...
Volume Two In Oreanda they sat on a bench not far from the church, looked down on the sea, and were silent. Yalta was barely visible through the morning mist, w...