From "Transcendence" by Gregory Gunn

in distant places
and other times, our lives
may have different
meanings in higher,
cosmic schemes.
passion prioritises,
we dare dream
of unreachable
constellations & thus
try to grasp the ideals
of immeasurable
conquerability,
united we've become
fully committed...
a binary star system

"Complex Courses" by Gregory Gunn

To designate you
a desired destination;
most superlative,
most noteworthy,
and not culling the best words
from a seasoned poet's
lexicon nor uprooting
grey bristled rhymes.

That is unequivocal
for I am well-versed
in the subject of YOU
and love you beyond
all distractions.

My fixed purpose:
an objective curriculum,
hoping to learn so much
more from your fundamental
teachings whatever vast
means are necessary
in attaining the wisdom
of love on these rather
complex courses.

"The Survivor" by Theodore Roethke

I am twenty-four
led to slaughter
I survived.

The following are empty synonyms:
man and beast
love and hate
friend and foe
darkness and light.

The way of killing men and beasts is the same
I've seen it:
truckfuls of chopped-up men
who will not be saved.

Ideas are mere words:
virtue and crime
truth and lies
beauty and ugliness
courage and cowardice.

Virtue and crime weigh the same
I've seen it:
in a man who was both
criminal and virtuous.

I seek a teacher and a master
may he restore my sight hearing and speech
may he again name objects and ideas
may he separate darkness from light.

I am twenty-four
led to slaughter
I survived.

"In A Dark Time" by Theodore Roethke

In a dark time, the eye begins to see,
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade;
I hear my echo in the echoing wood--
A lord of nature weeping to a tree,
I live between the heron and the wren,
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den.

What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire!
I know the purity of pure despair,
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall,
That place among the rocks--is it a cave,
Or winding path? The edge is what I have.

A steady storm of correspondences!
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon,
And in broad day the midnight come again!
A man goes far to find out what he is--
Death of the self in a long, tearless night,
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light.

Dark,dark my light, and darker my desire.
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly,
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I?
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear.
The mind enters itself, and God the mind,
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.

"Epidermal Macabre" by Theodore Roethke

Indelicate is he who loathes
The aspect of his fleshy clothes, --
The flying fabric stitched on bone,
The vesture of the skeleton,
The garment neither fur nor hair,
The cloak of evil and despair,
The veil long violated by
Caresses of the hand and eye.
Yet such is my unseemliness:
I hate my epidermal dress,
The savage blood's obscenity,
The rags of my anatomy,
And willingly would I dispense
With false accouterments of sense,
To sleep immodestly, a most
Incarnadine and carnal ghost.

"Bleeding" by May Swenson

Stop bleeding said the knife
I would if I could said the cut.
Stop bleeding you make me messy with the blood.
I'm sorry said the cut.
Stop or I will sink in farther said the knife.
Don't said the cut.
The knife did not say it couldn't help it but
it sank in farther.
If only you didn't bleed said the knife I wouldn't
have to do this.
I know said the cut I bleed too easily I hate
that I can't help it I wish I were a knife like
you and didn't have to bleed.
Well meanwhile stop bleeding will you said the knife.
Yes you are a mess and sinking in deeper said the cut I
will have to stop.
Have you stopped by now said the knife.
I've almost stopped I think.
Why must you bleed in the first place said the knife.
For the same reason maybe that you must do what you
must do said the cut.
I can't stand bleeding said the knife and sank in farther.
I hate it too said the cut I know it isn't you it's
me you're lucky to be a knife you ought to be glad about that.
Too many cuts around said the knife they're
messy I don't know how they stand themselves.
They don't said the cut.
You're bleeding again.
No I've stopped said the cut see you are coming out now the
blood is drying it will rub off you'll be shiny again and clean.
If only cuts wouldn't bleed so much said the knife coming
out a little.
But then knives might become dull said the cut.
Aren't you still bleeding a little said the knife.
I hope not said the cut.
I feel you are just a little.
Maybe just a little but I can stop now.
I feel a little wetness still said the knife sinking in a
little but then coming out a little.
Just a little maybe just enough said the cut.
That's enough now stop now do you feel better now said the knife.
I feel I have to bleed to feel I think said the cut.
I don't I don't have to feel said the knife drying now
becoming shiny.

"They Are Alike" by Paul Eluard

I change my mind
Following the breezes of fine thread
Following your legs your hands your eyes
The subtle dress which invents you
For you to replace it.

I change my mind
You pass in the street
In a hurricane of sun
I meet you I stop
I am young you must remember.

I change my mind
Your mouth is absent
I speak to you no longer you are asleep
There are fires of terror in your night
A field of clear tears in your dreams
We are not sad together
I forget you.

I change my mind
You cannot sleep
On careless ladders
Interminably
Between the flower and the fruit
In space
Between the flower and the fruit
You seek sleep
The first hoar frost
And you forget me

I change my mind
You laugh you are living you play
And curious one a desert would people itself for you
And I have trust

Finished
I have never been able to forget you
We shall never leave each other
To security we must give
The peasant snow the millstone of ruins
A respectable death
The day in pure loss drowns the stars
On a point of a single look
Of the same contemplation
We must burn the sphinx that resembles us
And its seasonable eyes
And its mosses of solitude