Song of 81 Poems - LIX

Through pithy streets,
    I age as you dance with us all.
Does it seem a man will say,

   a picture walks on water.

You'll need when childhood pressures 

    are up and away
Just order and tell us, try group pressure.
    Many will draw a dead thread.

I'm about his studio,
    Sad Mother, joyously we wasted our night.
Hindustan, I ought to be . . .

    You menstruate lie and wish.

She's all he lectures about. 

    I see emotional electricity.
Mechanical appearances, known in all ways,

She spins a beautiful, faithful, breath instrument.

As an old ex-Peer, I have assets.
So I thank you Father.
Don't give in Brother, 

Anger won't stay.
The drunks think he follows vintage laughter.
    Don't jealous boy,

    Absurd sex guards us.

If you destroy women despair to your observations.

Diversify, grant her fashions

    to make a bold opinion.

Stranger, you are the smoke!

Mom, how will the girl kiss?
Take praise, she teases, fasts, starts to hurt,
    Only after sin, some touching.

Society presses for the full opportunity,
Communication key to give more warmth.
    The daughter thought, 'Move!'
    But I never needed her sweet reason.

She only made me kiss.

Song of 81 Poems:

  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

Song of 81 Poems - LVII

Better shape it and observe virtual sound.

    Come, you and I'll see Asia.

Talking with a snake's respect,
In time, greenery ends pain.
     I'm aging as you dance with us,

And did  I learn with your subject?
    How drunk I am, from sculpture.
Address the fashion world, 

    in love with a curious, turgid, festoon.

Freedom was about water, surf, about clean space.
Gripped, society owes me.
     Drugs create, whether we are less blind,
     Confront fear, observe, I sculpted her.

May I call nature sweet? 

I see on Crete, a sculpture instrument.
    He one day, was not imagining, 

“We all have been beasts."

    In bestial emotion: "We are all language!"

Whisper into my fire - why do I see you?
Laughter acts to share! 

Anger won't stay.
    She understands free heart,
Crazy with patience.

     Fly with a glass, stranger!

That's how the milky Mother works. 

She chants from water.
    Won't sour, until we have ancient thoughts.
Plays there, until solutions stroke and break pride,
    Damages mount upon an empty psychedelic symbol.

You’d better drive passion, face language.
Which angel had Mother use?
    Writing breaks as we work so hard.

"Must ye think of some drunk mouth?'
    I wrote, caught by an angel,
    Some repressed angers loomed.

Demand rest.
"I’ll worry when you run out."
    You'll sleep less, see bold pictures in the air.
    A rainbow for you upon glass.

Song of 81 Poems:

  1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 38 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81