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Friday nights –
The mad, bad streets,
Pacing, thinking, wishing, seeing
Cold nights, tipsy, hot blood –
Deep dives and long drives,
Strange, loud, high neighbors.
It ends on a Saturday morning
Sleepy, Saturday...

I have brought the sacrificial goat
To the heap of grass, leaves and bark

He has forgotten his last beheading
But round his neck garland-like
hangs a mark

Three times I had the lust to kill,
To clutch a throat so young and fair,
And squeeze with all my might until
No breath of being lingered there.
Three times I drove the demon out,
Though on my brow was evil sweat. . . .
And...

In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn't read.
He knew what made an airplane...

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Awaits alike th' inevitable hour.
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of...

Who will sing the song
That woke us up every morning
The blue bird chirps a melody
Sweet as it seems, we hear an elegy
The sun rises in the East
But it's not a new dawn
Just another day to be withdrawn
Whoever finds the...

I guess you think you know this story.
You don't. The real one's much more gory.
The phoney one, the one you know,
Was cooked up years and years ago,
And made to sound all soft and sappy
just to keep the children...

I am but a caterpillar
surrounded by butterflies
such beautiful creatures
I have watched many like me change
change with such grace into such beauty
I often wonder why
why I am yet to find such grace
why am I yet to...

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little...

Day by day
Smiles grow wearisome
And the spark within
Fades and fades
Slowly I start to see the cold
And feel the dark!

'I've a pain in my head'
Said the suffering Beckford;
To her Doctor so dread.
'Oh! what shall I take for't?'

Said this Doctor so dread
Whose name it was Newnham.
'For this pain in your head
Ah! What can you do...