Time Is A Great Teacher,

Man Is A Long Time Coming. Man Will Yet Win. Brother May Yet Line Up With Brother: This Old Anvil Laughs At Many Broken Hammers.there Are Men Who Can't Be Bought.

What If Someone Gave A War & Nobody Came? / Life Would Ring The Bells Of Ecstasy And Forever Be Itself Again.

Time Is A Sandpile We Run Our Fingers In.

Poetry Is A Slipknot Tightened Around A Time-beat Of One Thought, Two Thoughts, And A Last Interweaving Thought There Is Not Yet A Number For.

Poetry Is The Journal Of A Sea Animal Living On Land, Wanting To Fly In The Air.