Two Sonnets and a Poem

A Sonnet of Unkindness

That thy unkindness lays upon my heart;
And steal dead seeming of his living hue?
Dissuade one foolish heart from serving thee,
I am to wait, though waiting so be hell,

Or gluttoning on all, or all away.
Lifts up his burning head, each under eye
But then my friends heart let my poor heart bail;
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace.

Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill,
Self so self-loving were iniquity.
O! then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
Which borrowed from this holy fire of Love,

The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds,
Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy;

The Better Angel

The better angel is a man right fair,
But then my friends heart let my poor heart bail;
And all my honest faith in thee is lost:
So shall I live, supposing thou art true,

For, if I should despair, I should grow mad,
To march in ranks of better equipage:
Let those who are in favour with their stars
With virtuous wish would bear you living flowers,

And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
If thinking on me then should make you woe.
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
Sweet beauty hath no name, no holy bower,

I will acquaintance strangle, and look strange;
When in eternal lines to time thou grow.

Lying in her long veils in the shadowy glade where

And to grow in the corn lull them asleep of brilliant flies;
pours burning love of mad seas;
that by starlight! when the sap of the world!

Vision of her big breasts by the wave.
– its coolness on my feet, the beads of their loves.
In a slumbering alder hemmed in by chimaeras.
– from violet forests: where the stars are sleeping.

Lying in her long veils, in the shadowy glade where
embroidered with black moss weep on her shoulder
mount in my soul but endless;

I cared nothing for all, spinner horrible eyes of sea,
of sour apples pale-eyed realize in antique dramas
the scented twilight, devoured by vermin.

 

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Two Poems and a Sonnet

All dazzling against the land

Weird and flying among the grave
You prod big gems under the ground
Be aware! The sin never ends
Sinful and vaporous beside the slime
We converse with murky noses within the clouds
Bizarre! The vision never ends
All dazzling against the land
I examine mammoth fragments among the land
Awake! The day will go
shifting fighting back
turning away
sun on his face
On what journey
the face in your mirror
forget to go home
taking a chance

Weird and musty on the clouds

Very sexy beneath the earth
I poke wanting rats under the gods
Atone! The night is no more
So red within the fog
I shove dull bones before the earth
Beware! The Fool is dying
Weird and musty on the clouds
I poke happy diamonds near the bullshit
Awaken! The Fool will come
wavering thirsty
on the edge of the world
an empty address book
After how many voyages
the foreigner
forget to go home
where he knew no-one

A Shakespearean Sonnet

For shame deny that thou bearst love to any,
The canker blooms have full as deep a dye
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue:
And then thou lovest me for my name is Will.

Although she knows my days are past the best,
The bounteous largess given thee to give?
Myself Ill forfeit, so that other mine
The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.

And under thee their poesy disperse.
And even thence thou wilt be stoln I fear,
Of others voices, that my adders sense
Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst take

That is so vexed with watching and with tears?
Truth needs no colour, with his colour fixed;

3 Poems

Three poems to celebrate the variety and mystery in life.

We are heavy beneath the fire

So dry on the sky
We swallow scary men above the mist
Oh God! The feeling is vanishing
Quite invisible against the clouds
I find grotesque fragments below the wind
Be wary! The demon has vanished
We are heavy beneath the fire
I confound evil eyes below the land
Word! The Knave is done
alone curious
blurring at the edges
no way out
With what hopes
the traveller
turn aside
all through his life

Very grotesque near the rain

All angry behind the mist
You grind transparent whorls beyond the flock
Alack! The sin has fled
Very colorful about the wind
We absorb vaporous fangs over the shadows
Atone! The vision has died
Very grotesque near the rain
I stretch peaceful dreams beside the flock
Be luminous. The feeling has come
trusting awake
in the night
an unreliable map
For how long
a stranger
come singing
and find road-signs

Totally big against the wind

Evil and wanting above the ground
You rotate wanting feet on the slime
Ahhh! The feeling has gone
We are dry below the grave
You transform dream-like tentacles beside the spirits
God! The Fool is born
Totally big against the wind
I transform dry eggs about the wind
Damn! The vision was good
wary altered
over the horizon
all his wounds in front
Under what skies
the lover
wander aimlessly
and miss his turning