The hero stood before his land, filling his lungs, and history raged and flamed in the back of his eyes, and poetry too, for the hundreds of years of his people’s subjugation were cut deep in him. Now he was trapped as his people were always trapped and would be until he revealed to his…

On the following day I go to work Without my briefcase With a flat white Tablet, which Fear told me To place on My tongue …I think that should do it.

Your worst enemy when  I’m with you is the peach  between your oiled up legs.  A string of filthy words  and maybe a painful thing  that might make this whole  thing difficult to go on. And if there is hope,  as just possibly there might,  become conscious of our  own strength and air for Love. …

The endless searches after profound  knowledge comes at last the big gate.  The singing of birds and splashing  water and the sweeping Love whispering  to you, “bury me alive.” It is then that  you know the darkest of lights is by your side. …It told her things she knew already.

I should have sold  my feelings alone  and passed on  the devil.  Perhaps I can still  sell them and  buy peace for  a full moon  and a revolution. …the priest then looked at his aged patient.