Deeds Cannot Dream What Dreams Can Do

The Poems To Come Are For You And For Me And Are Not For Mostpeople... You And I Are Human Beings; Mostpeople Are Snobs.

May I Be I Is The Only Prayer--not May I Be Great Or Good Or Beautiful Or Wise Or Strong.

For Surely As Each November Has Its April, Mysteries Only Are Significant; And One Mystery-of-mysteries Creates Them All: Nothing False And Possible Is Love (who's Imagined,therefore Limitless) Love's To Giving As To Keeping's Give; As Yes Is To If,love Is To Yes

The Other Guineahen Died Of A Broken Heart And We Came To New York. I Used To Sit At A Table,drawing Wings With A Pencil That Kept Breaking And I Kept Remembering How Your Mind Looked When It Slept For Several Years,to Wake Up Asking Why. So Then You Turned Into A Photograph Of Somebody Who’s Trying Not To Laugh At Somebody Who’s Trying Not To Cry

No Evil Is So Worse Than Worst You Fall In Hate With Love.