I Wish I Could Find An Event

You Must Believe A Poem Is A Holy Thing, A Good Poem, That Is.

What Is Madness But Nobility Of Soul At Odds With Circumstance?

Love Begets Love. This Torment Is My Joy.

What's Madness But Nobility Of Soul At Odds With Circumstance? The Day's On Fire! I Know The Purity Of Pure Despair, My Shadow Pinned Against A Sweating Wall, That Place Among The Rocks--is It A Cave, Or Winding Path? The Edge Is What I Have........ ....... Dark,dark My Light, And Darker My Desire. My Soul, Like Some Heat-maddened Summer Fly, Keeps Buzzing At The Sill. ~from "the Waking" By Theodore Roethke

My Papa's Waltz: The Whiskey On Your Breath Could Make A Small Boy Dizzy; But I Hung On Like Death: Such Waltzing Was Not Easy. We Romped Until The Pans Slid From The Kitchen Shelf; My Mother's Countenance Could Not Unfrown Itself. The Hand That Held My Wrist Was Battered On One Knuckle; At Every Step You Missed My Right Ear Scraped A Buckle. You Beat Time On My Head With A Palm Caked Hard By Dirt, Then Waltzed Me Off To Bed Still Clinging To Your Shirt.