Only Where Love And Need

So When At Times The Mob Is Swayed To Carry Praise Or Blame Too Far, We May Choose Something Like A Star To Stay Our Minds On And Be Staid.

Sarcastic Science, She Would Like To Know, In Her Complacent Ministry Of Fear, How We Propose To Get Away From Here When She Has Made Things So We Have To Go Or Be Wiped Out. Will She Be Asked To Show Us How By Rocket We May Hope To Steer To Some Star Off There, Say, A Half Light-year Through Temperature Of Absolute Zero? Why Wait For Science To Supply The How When Any Amateur Can Tell It Now? The Way To Go Away Should Be The Same As Fifty Million Years Ago We Came- If Anyone Remembers How That Was I Have A Theory, But It Hardly Does.

I Am One Who Has Been Acquainted With The Night

My Definition Of Poetry (if I Were Forced To Give One) Would Be This: Words That Have Become Deeds.

The Afternoon Knows What The Morning Never Suspected.