;
Reality is not a matter of truth, but imagination
Cosmographical Meditations
Writer's gratitude
The pound of flesh which I demand
In like a lion, out like a lamb
Cutting-edge
The feast of harvest
Avant-gardener
Ground to a halt
Encircled by imagination
Walking with all the stars within
High above, bodies sigh
Underneath, spirits tremble
Love rules without a sword
Beyond the intricate configuration of the mind
Full blossom of the evening
Flutters in the thick of trees
Hear them sing through the leaves
Out of darkness is born the light
The period of the pendulum
No trap can hold their whisper
For knowledge is limited
The flavor of kinship
Humility opens the floodgates
Strange currents of friendly promise drift by
And one day will seem like three
The end is where we start from
A pulse grows in the temple
A hungry stomach has no ears
Setting a trap for others
Nietzsche taken to heart
Wrath upon the enraged