only whoso has raised
among the Shades his lyre
dares, with foreboding, aspire
to offer infinite praise.
No one but that one
who has eaten with the dead
their poppies will never forget
the softest tone.
Though the picture in the pool
before us grow dim:
Make the image yours.
Only in the dual realm will voices become
eternal and pure.
There is a world we're living in, out there somewhere. Sometimes I feel like it is out there somewhere, hardly ever making a dent on my consciousness.
somewhere over in Albany
trains run around on the tracks
the rumbling goes right through you
big dogs bark from on top of boxes
junk and old cars in front of houses
down in front of the river park
the waters come up over the pavement
lights come on as you walk by
gangters with pit bulls
women coasting along on bikes with no brakes
Things that I can do without:
2)waiting in long lines
5)kata with overly-long slow parts