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I will be free, no lover's kiss to bind me to earth, no bliss of love to counteract actual bliss.

Hilda Doolittle

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Hilda Doolittle
Kiss
Solitude
Kissing
Lovers
Counteract
Freedom
Bind
Free
Lover
Earth
Bliss
Love
Actual

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There's a black rose growing in your garden.
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Pompeii has nothing to teach us, we know crack of volcanic fissure, slow flow of terrible lava, pressure on heart, lungs, the brain about to burst its brittle case (what the skull can endure!)
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The race may or may not be to the swift, but tell me, is it likely that the fight will be entrusted to the dead?
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She did not look at the daffodils. They didn't mean anything. She looked at the daffodils. She said, 'Thank you for the daffodils.
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My eye-balls are glass, my limbs marble, my face fixed in its marble mask.
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Love is a garment riven in the light that rises from Parnassus, showing the night is over.
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It is no madness to say you will fall, you great cities.
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Light threatens, is active, is gone, so it is with a song.
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Luminous, unfearful high-priestesses, our fervour shall banish all evil.
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The whole white world is ours.
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We are voyagers, discoverers of the not-known, the unrecorded we have no map possibly we will reach haven, heaven.
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Let Love step down, open the clasped hands, forfeit the thorny crown, retrieve the garment that was whole, body and spirit one, spirit and soul.
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Cheat me not with time, with the dull ache of flesh, for all flesh turns, even the loveliest ankle and frail thigh, to bitterest dust.
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The stallion and his mare, unbridled, with arrow-pattern, are worked on. the blue cloth before the door of religion and inspiration.
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The heart the heart the heart how it thrives on hate.
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Passionate grave thought, belief enhanced, ritual returned and magic.
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Ardent yet chill and formal, how I ache to tempt a chisel as a sculptor.
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In my garden the winds have beaten the ripe lilies in my garden, the salt has wilted the first flakes of young narcissus.
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The elixir of life, the philosopher's stone is yours if you surrender sterile logic, trivial reason.
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No poetic phantasy but a biological reality, a fact: I am an entity like bird, insect, plant or sea-plant cell I live I am alive.
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