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| I left my home of green rough wood, A blue velvet couch. I dream till now A shiny dark bush Just left of the door. Down the walk Clickity clack As my doll in her carriage Went over the cracks- "We'll go far away." |
| Don't cry my doll Don't cry I hold you and rock you to sleep Hush hush I'm pretending now I'm not your mother who died. |
| Help help Help I feel life coming closer When all I want to do is die. |
| Life- I am of both your directions Existing more with the cold frost Strong as a cobweb in the wind Hanging downward the most Somehow remaining those beaded rays have the colours I've seen in paintings-ah life they have cheated you thinner than a cobweb's thread sheerer than any- but it did attach itself and held fast in strong winds and singed by the leaping hot fires life-of which at singular times I am both of your directions- somehow I remain hanging downward the most as both of your directions pull me. |
| From time to time I make it rhyme but don't hold that kind of thing against me- Oh well, what the hell, so it won't sell. What I want to tell- is what's on my mind: 'taint Dishes, 'taint Wishes, it's thoughts flinging by before I die- and to think in ink. |
| O, Time Be Kind Help this weary being To forget what is sad to remember Loose my loneliness, Ease my mind, While you eat my flesh. |
| Good nite Sleep and sweet repose Where ever you lay your head- I hope you find your nose- |
| The smart one says the eye is not truly round. His are, though, fat with looking. |
| When the hourglass takes off its dress, the sand loosens and spreads. You cannot find a footing in me. They always said I was terrible in bed. |
| They taught my body to squeeze grapes. Warm wine pours out. And once or twice, a slick skin. |
| I could have loved you once and even said it But you went away, When you came back it was too late And love was a forgotten word. Remember? |
| To the weeping willow I stood beneath your limbs and you flowered and finally clung to me and when the wind struck....the earth and sand--you clung to me. |
| I've got a tear hanging over my beer that I can't let go It's too bad I feel sad When I got all my life behind me. If I had a little relief From this grief Then I couldfind a drowning straw to hold on to. It's great to be alive. They say I'm lucky to be alive It's hard to figure out - When everything I feel - Hurts. |
| Nite of the nite Soothing Darkness Refreshes Air Seems different Night has no eyes nor no one Silence Except for the night itself. |
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| Photo by Philippe Halsman in 1954 for "Expressions Sitting" for Esquire magazine. All photos are copyrighted by their respective owners & should not be used for commercial purposes. Page created by Mary Sims |
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