poetry

I would I were alive again to kiss the fingers of the rain.

With my ninth mind I resurrect my firstand dance slow to the music of my soul made new.

I am more than good enoughTo accomplish everything I can be,I will wake up todayThe history could have been different.But I am here now.

No matter how you are taught by your teacher about how to recite a poem, it is impossible to wear your teacher's smiling face to the stage. You got to change your own face into a smiling one!

I say, 'Get me some poets as managers.' Poets are our original systems thinkers. They contemplate the world in which we live and feel obligated to interpret, and give expression to it in a way that makes the reader understand how that world runs. Poets, those unheralded systems thinkers, are our true digital thinkers. It is from their midst that I believe we will draw tomorrow's new business leaders."--Sidney Harman, CEO Multimillionaire of a stereo components company

I've finally decided to write about profit for a changeBut before I really started I already started to feel lameBaby what's it to a beast who manely to money remains untamed

Even when muddy your wings sparkle bright wonders that heal broken worlds.

Our lips were for each other and our eyes were full of dreams. We knew nothing of travel and we knew nothing of loss. Ours was a world of eternal spring, until the summer came.

_, Muse of the Heart__ Passion,let me relive my Love__ memory,to remember her body, so brave and so free,and the sound of my Dreameress singing to me,and the scent of my Dreameress sleeping by me,_, sing, sweet Muse, my soliloquy!

You'll always be curious yet deliriously sinking into whatever your nightmare is until you let your wings know you're serious by leaping into your wildest dreams of self love.

__ wise man once said, 'Life is like breathing. If you try to hold it, you'll lose it. But let it come & go & you'll always be connected to it.'_

he was so beautiful because when he held her he was not concerned with __eing a man._ __eing a man_ had nothing to do with this. these flowers pouring from his chest. _ weightless

Some teach youwhat can't be taught,by turning their backon you & helpingyou get internallycloser to everythingyou externallysought.

You alwaysdrop by, to en-lighten my mind,when my wings arefeeling heavy &i've forgottenhow tofly.

Live in the shadow of the moon until you're bright enough to give birth to your own suns.

When you and I met, the meeting was over very shortly, it was nothing. Now it is growing something as we remember it, what will it be when I remember it as I lie down to die, what it makes in me all my days till then - that is the real meeting. The other is only the beginning of it. You say you have poets in your world. Do they not teach you this?

FRIENDSLooking out the window, I see you looking in.You are the sunshine,That fills my soul.

our feet are grape-squashed in memoriesour skins are still flushedfrom the touch of summer__ lips.