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WHY DO YOU RUN FROM MY POEM?
Why do you run from my poem? In it, you can be fulfilled. In my poem you can never be Misunderstood or killed. You love photographs? But in these photographs you come across as self-willed. Poetry is...
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DON’T RUIN IT
When hair hides a beautiful woman’s face I curse hair and desire and the human race. I curse beauty and desire and my disgrace When hair hides a woman’s face. Don’t ruin it, I said to myself, which...
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WHEN SONG IS PAIN
When song is pain— A hit by a female artist, So the husband producers can take limousines, When song is pain, A young girl, emotionally engaged, Will never be the same; When song is pain, That has to...
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ALL TRUE POETRY WRITES AGAINST POETRY
All true poetry writes against poetry— Passion speaks in a moment only. Poetry only to a moment pertains. All speech is a spasm—an electric impulse of our brains. We need to forget everything we said:...
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I NEVER WANTED MORE THAN THIS
I never wanted more than this, To feel happy, because useful, And if greater happiness were needed Perhaps to meet you later for a kiss And if work were hard: a garden to be weeded, As long as there...
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SHE DREAMS OF ME
Today I saw the saddest face: A mask of misery and disgrace Presented for my taste; The mask is the truth. All of life is a waste When love is destroyed by pride, When lovers, once lovers, deride. The...
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SATURDAY
Poems are not written, they are sighed By pain, to escape pain, for pain does not wish with pain to reside. You, who do not think, think Poems are written by someone’s hands When someone’s thoughts...
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WOMEN DON’T PLAY CHESS
If you don’t hear from her for a week, She is not plotting behind a curtain. None of what she does is a chess move. A woman is always uncertain. A woman is always Socratic, She is too smart to think...
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ONCE I SAID
Once I said I loved you I could not go back To the way I was. Those words changed who I am. Some have no words To clothe and comfort them. Some do not speak the speech That is them; they have no...
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IF YOU WOULD HAVE A TASTE OF FASHION
If you would have a taste of fashion You would need first to undress The kindest one who lives, for fashion is most kind When it covers casually a kind and pleasant mind. So love will tell you what...
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THE LOVER IS
Why love? Because love is alert. That’s a good reason for love. No one is more sensitive to being hurt Than one in love. The hyper-awareness of love is why The quick, creative eye Happily sees the...
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LOVE IS THEATRICALITY
The dilemma for us is this, poor toad: Love must be theatrical to show itself as love, But as soon as love enters the theatrical mode It stops being love. You brought her flowers and a poem. Love...
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THE STREET
Keep flowing, street. Without you, I have no one to meet. The house that stands next to you, With books of rivers, rivers of emerald green—and blue Ponds, which tremble beneath the azure, too, Is a...
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ELEGANT BUT SEX-MAD
I was disgraced in the rain; It dampened every inch of my skin. I went to my middle-aged Muse, But she wouldn’t let me in. I was disgraced on the train; A middle-aged woman asked me why My middle-aged...
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YOU CAN’T ESCAPE SAINT VALENTINE’S DAY
Love might be theater, or love might be a play, But you can’t escape Saint Valentine’s Day. You might get together with the girls and dish: But talking cannot hide your secret wish. Better to lie on...
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PAUL MCCARTNEY AND BILLY COLLINS: FOR NO ONE
Paul McCartney can be seen on You Tube interviewed by the poet Billy Collins—and it points up the superiority of the pop musician to the poet, in our day: Collins comes across as a mere fan, asking...
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SIN WITHIN SIN
There’s nothing wrong with sin. What gets us is the sin within the sin. It’s not what you wanted, it was what you had to do To get that certain shoe. And when you’re old You look ridiculous in that...
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SONGS AND POEMS FROM SCARRIET
You might call Scarriet the Song and Poetry site. We are restoring the beauty and the epigrammatic force of poetry by bringing to poetry all the virtues of song—while keeping poetry’s “integrity” as a...
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I CLOSE MY EYES
I close my eyes on the commute home. It’s true that crowds make me feel alone— But most alone when I need one. I don’t need to see the urinal as I pee. I would rather not look at each station or face...
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TELL ME IF YOU DO
I’m an office worker working. On what? For what? I haven’t a clue. The tapping of the keyboard calms me. It makes me feel mysteriously close to you. As long as you shut up, we’ll be alright. And there...
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