Archive for all the stuff I call poems that I have written over the last 30 years and that I still continue to write, oblivious to the fact that they might be little more than doggawn atrocious in the eyes of those who might not know how to generate within themselves the bliss invisible.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
Wishful Thinking
give me the power of invisible light and let there be no more grey stalk withering, plant in my hand the tree of perfection to be always nourished by my honesty and meditations
