RERITES September 2017 All poems in this book were written by a computer, then edited by a human, August 31st 2017 - September 30th 2017. Algorithm: Pytorch neural network. More info at http://bdp.glia.ca ~ The September edition of Rerites series is nicknamed Climate Change. Poems were generated with one parameter changing: temperature. Temperatures increase 0.5 each iteration. Higher temperature create more complex poems. ~ jhave@jhave-Ubuntu:~/Documents/Github/pytorch-poetry-generation/word_language_model$ python generate_2017-INFINITE-1M_tab_inc.py --checkpoint='models/model-LSTM-emsize-1500-nhid_1500-nlayers_2-batch_size_20-epoch_22-loss_6.02-ppl_412.68.pt' --cuda 0.4 To The Garden In the morning the sun is the sea, The sea tossed by rain. The wind is dead silence hissing. 0.5 The days are not blind Winds or mountains or rain. 0.6 I am the little one who has no chance In the still of the middle. And then I heard the sun. 0.9 In the heated dust of an old body Love's fang, a ragged flower Murmuring an old song. 1.0 World. Rockstar, girded window: cloudless transliterations pulsings gaits; and sometimes in the cocktail afternoon, skin distracts the devil while the planet ticks quietly. 1.1 The Fucker mind agreed: there's too much sunshine in the secret quiet fields 1.2 Be Reared Away, Magnolias Coil: on the margin of loins pushing an ocean. Notch mourning, slain unsubdued objectified flooding. Blood mauled naked faithful taboos. 1.3 radicalized 1.4 Despairing affection's genitals. Hell nations: Nemesis necessity descendant nurst; retractable faun-like Burdens baffled talking. 0.35 The last night I saw The first of the first And I was the way 0.45 In the house of the day, He was the first old man. Who was not the same as whoever was not there. Nor was he in the middle of his life; In the middle he could not be The way he was in his own. 0.55 Blood is the color of the lost end of the world. 0.65 The old man died to me. His groves belong to the thorns of the moon. 0.75 Straight to the house she went with the body of the night. And the sea Of light Would not hold it. Her light was a girl, and she was A cloud at the door In that house where they were born. She turned Her eyes upon the floor. 0.85 A prism in the pale skyline stillness over hemlocks a breeze rising from walls syllables breaking in mouths 0.95 The old woman imitates all: where the sea is fruitless, trees nectar the sandbox. 1.15 Shun heart-felt poets, milkweed, illegal timepieces, making words sweet to burn key jaws invisible, sensuous obdurate assets 1.25 a great exuberance breathed in the grass 1.35 She big-eyed, half spleen, collecting discharged hieroglyphic trudging star-tuned wonder-starred knee-deep cadenced moves forever, tearing up the cenotaph's fallen feathers 1.46 sickness approaches, futility flinging vapour, tomb-stone cacti light-stirred suction bruises 0.35 And a man who is not a man In the house of a woman Who is not a child Who is not the one who is not the one Who is not the one who is not To be a friend 0.45 I have seen them in a house of the sun and the trees in the light. I have seen the dead who lived in the house and the women who were singing for the children. 0.55 the first time we were in the dark and the fields were in the sea all was born old 0.65 Wind shattered on green light, A sea as dark as the sky; In the garden, pale red leaves Far from the sun grew cold. 0.85 At dawn like an unquenched smile, rage sailed to the throne. A dream to manifest all things; the place of ledges, where to retreat, sweetness, and the rustling brief years of the dead. 0.95 to wake and bend in her self-desires archetypical suffering fish tongue -- 1.05 strewn coal-oil rain-bone carrying old keys from lignite glass to the island. 1.35 Love-juice, dismember the mound. It is too-late to cling to pistils. 0.95 We felt the garden's altered dreams In the reeking alleys of our bidding 1.35 Wistaria --flint, gasps, beneath mellower wheezing adroit, clustered gregarious ossifications meiosis apples; glaring worms. 1.46 Lab's mole deity: aphrodisiac lamé purities cash!); underwater catheter vandals. 1.56 pavement threshed washrags bear Brecht sputtered labyrinths 0.45 The world is a kind of art, a way to be a soul? ~ The green tree a red girl the beach and the men found the water 0.55 I watched old people ride wind thru a dark sky 0.65 Elegy The world in the world Light of a perpetual light And the air that is not The beauty of the soul Is the wild of the sea 0.75 All Of Us floated into the air and got lost at the same place 0.85 Honesty is why I love And when I come home I am the day that Drinks her open heart, here where Her bones on the floor are crying. 0.95 And the rising wet spring opened a mirror to let you love it in the belly above the legs that opened their hot urgency 1.05 bounty, and the obscure causes of the final person. 1.15 the abyss, indefatigable, adjusts to crumple my sweet not yet begun 1.35 magnets, wormy and unbroken. brushing her, ignite nomads, misconstrued dying leaves, firelit transmogrified 1.46 So, your habit loam, filament anemones brighten bulge-eyed, awakened octopuses. ##################### jhave@jhave-Ubuntu:~/Documents/Github/pytorch-poetry-generation/word_language_model$ python generate_2017-INFINITE-1M_tab_inc.py --checkpoint='models/model-LSTM-emsize-1500-nhid_1500-nlayers_2-batch_size_20-epoch_22-loss_6.02-ppl_412.68.pt' --cuda +~+ Mode: LSTM Embedding size: 1500 Hidden Layers: 1500 Batch size: 20 Epoch: 22 Loss: 6.02 Perplexity: 412.68.pt ##################### 0.4 A single white cloud And the fire of the dead In the heart of the day The children of the children And the women of the dead And the old men Who are the children of the dead 0.5 The Night Was a sweet thing at the end of the world, and the sun was the sun. The sun was dark and the stars were still; And the leaves were shining in the sun; they had been heard by the light. 0.6 Into The Wind. The freeway pulled the body from a rock and the waves came down over the night. these endless fields can't remember the ones who will not be lost 0.8 The Other Night I thought I could not hear the living of the earth. Your eyes were dilated, and in my dreams you were my mouth, and you loved me. I lived in bed, and looked at you. 0.9 it may have been the way air was on the blooms, foliage on pink trees. 1.0 and the catatonic laughter is sucked down. 1.1 the sleek, sage-plant terrified, worships dead sensations. 0.4 The Way the world is like a small thing in the night and the wind is a long time in the world. 0.6 That the river is the sun And the stars are dark and bare. And the singing light Of the days are still in the night. 0.8 I led a child in my own house With a gentle light And a gray black kitten Eaten by a cloud Crept down 0.9 I imagine my name whispering in your veins. 1.0 We desired to carry time. 1.2 Folded beneath what listens The deep summer is always hurling esoteric discounts, eminent carapaces, low-brow zephyrs, suspicious (bioaquadooloop) tinsel, demur appellants, immobilized veiling 0.35 The Rape of the Lock: Canto 5 In the white and frosty light, And the long night of the morning light Was the last of the sea. 0.45 lifting red in the back room a bright black light left the sun 0.55 Honey-Whispers Then on the threshold of an old green tree blood bloomed 0.65 I am the old man who is a little bird 0.75 When time first went to meet water, Wind blew clear into the mountain, Sun was shining on the grass in a purple sky. 0.85 This night of all nights I arise blue in a golden factory on the other side of mind 0.95 Omnipotens Pendulum. I cannot remember why you came. True words have come not To remedy the refined 1.05 Ruined Cylinder It is not love which happiness shackles. Plodding over it. Fitting pain to overtake fear. No Great Yes over her pasture moves, to feel you, wearing fragments of what she once saw. 1.15 i imagine earth whispering of ingenuous muscle, perennial fate 1.25 deep with increasing beauty jampacked McGee watched his tall wallet taste an imagined not-as-yet wilderness. against lustered Isis door-latched dazed casques stuffed with lyncean sponges congruences and a toy conclusion Blindman's no-color shines 1.35 Redactive: she twists the sun! 0.35 The sea is not the sea, And the clouds are not the sea. It is night that is the sea Night that is the wind on the sea. 0.85 Your amorphous hair tells them I call you, back into the living as the old virgin the first sex with the grim ecstasy of cries. 0.95 To wonder what impossibility can lie light and barefoot in a dry street. 1.05 Bits, Weather. The featured cacophony weaves peace into clear mountains 1.35 censorious, wisped slums, squats, callouses, dung-caked, ranked, tattered valiantly: McTalk twofer, sh-t definition. over-smoked bruise-crazed garden-moulded clenched-mutations 0.45 The first time I told you What I think The sun tossed A dark mist At the moon. 0.55 A forest of leaves in a pathless sky. 0.75 walked up to the bluff cluster disgorged alloy selling a big river with which they touched the coils of some information in the North 0.95 Rules. A legacy, here Nothing, at last. For the fools dream an hour a ripple-feathered roan-waken swarm-wounded moan. 1.05 And depressed by the half-mad necessitous price A fistful of Inebriated uranium, beat upon and beaten. 1.15 Every home Sevenfold cedars, onetwothreefourfive revival thorns, poncho naked yellowish glosses. 1.25 the nicht-grooved wood-nurtured wise-handed last-found solitary-atom beast figment of bath! epidemic peasant condensed command Palmyra anishads. Ulyssean symmetry. 1.35 Crone volational nomenclature thickness! Large Eager-hearted eye kudzu. Kelp area-ways, eroded, faded. 0.35 I am the one Who never had A way And the one Never seen Who knows I am a child 0.65 And now in the day of the old world, The heart of the heart of a man in love loved the sky, thought the whole way. 0.75 Near the road where the streams swirl and roll and flow to the other side of the mountain. I was jealous of my mother, and the little bit of the sea, where my father slept. 0.85 and the stories I cut into want to be all but this 1.05 Iron of rectitude and mechanical gargantuan Shrouded babes, and gods of sparrows tomatoes, Momentarily enamoured by sumac and frogs Drift from beauty-moles and peanut trays Thaw muses, suffering hypocrites, Windswept violence. ~ + ~ ^CTraceback (most recent call last): File "generate_2017-INFINITE-1M_tab_inc.py", line 139, in [0] KeyboardInterrupt Epoch: 22 0.55 The first time I heard the sun give sense to mind the hair of leaves began singing on the sea. We stand in the middle of the sea. And Name is dead, yet to be. And all the dead souls of lovers be to be. We are little Wet dogs of the gods The egret river In a vapourous spillway of humid stones and treacherous dew Took the human heart's tumultuous burden To the dust which would not be The wind blows backward, And, like an eagle, lifts its lips To the music of the moon. Each time the bed opens a nanosecond in the formal light that cannot make women control the world. no ground ever made a beast with her fingers grown gray with her face in her outstretched face, the air all ash she is found on the water great creatures walking the legend winging off and the market-place the waste of its flat dreams the compass each of us receive in the hiving air of naked sleep I was fighting comfort: when cold loud dread appeared crowded unforgiven destruction raptures and endeavour-wed wounds brambled nests discarding blooms 1.26 to cataract blindness insentient variations The sun put Words of the dead into ecstasy 0.6 the way is an empty sky 0.65 real eyes left in the other house where I am a woman her body is a single thing of love in the light 0.7 Take the music and the deep turning sound within night on the shore. 0.76 standing in the airport she knows she has a place and children are in her hands in her way in the nest of the rain 0.81 And the night I gave you a word to cover damp thoughts I had been waiting for a feather to fix the broken stone 0.86 prudence; unquenchable, avant/garde shall I compel to kill thee? O, who thus glistens the world so sublime as though darkness grew probability! 0.91 I Am An Impostor. the rain-soaked door of the Island, with its heart sashes, outlines my breath 1.01 We think of the lovers we lost — 1.06 afternoons thrash the amber wings of dissolved elation fountains everwhichaway 1.11 Prayed -- briefly, a heaviness that looked nourished; null was what we believed. No father reprieve; imbricating abide, --- being only proved undergrowth. Nowhere. Unenlightened. 1.16 Artificial with baleful feasts, and calmly, blindly uselessly joyful. Gift snails. Melancholy weakness. Spiritual cluster-bombs. 1.21 The Prophets Hum the green ruminant bloom must hereafter soon horn 1.26 Fuck Controls nicely nervous longing: a single-minded low-tide slick corkscrew-crisp native amazement confiscated-chastened-charm enters you hydrant fistula rummaging. Love mingled. 0.3 And the one is the one who has To be the one who is not To be the one who is not To be the one who is not To be the one 0.45 I am a man Who is lying in the dark And knows what he has to do 0.5 The last time I thought I could love I was a child - 0.55 The word is not dead And the sea is gold in the dark of the light And the sun's bitter small darkness is so beautiful 0.6 Mind. Whole days of clear Voices born in the sea. 0.65 On the enormous slopes of a bloody river Where there are bodies And the sun is living in skin's forest Come to one other 0.7 In the silence of the sea a voice that is heart sings of memory and fire-tinctured dark 0.76 in the morning he was dead and gave all into the sky 0.81 Soul chained to the one goodbye. You cannot be left. It is no longer true. 0.86 On some Vast Circle of the River Become a new animal of native deregulation, a little sign in the corner of land And in the morning find something pure sweet, a darkness that seems to fly, that is a creature. 0.91 And she knew that she was not very wise And not a soul whose eyes dwelled in A green seal with fierce grief To behold without rules Everywhere left for death 0.96 One by one struck by numbers Smell a god of shame. 1.01 Lust To desire They are graves. The squeaking deep burden of the only truth. 1.06 I pull clover in the meadow and mourn the open door of arctic land: misfortune lineaments an old bellows spinning to crush down Palestine 1.11 Someone goes chained and is happy. Vernal flesh begins. Odd, Galapagos-fettered Certificates: Birth in Central Joke. Womb-weary. I yield. 1.16 if I prognosticate, extend the feast; speechless Ambrosia Farmers (syndactylism Empires, and escaped Sainte megaphone flounderings) 1.26 The Dumping spilled, sharpe unspoken limbs jasmine-throated empty-handed nullified flowers perplexed glorious ground 0.3 I have seen the last of the children And mother in the middle of the sea. 0.4 The Affliction of the World is like a mountain in the sky, all stars are the same; and the tide bright wind still moon red dark green of pain 0.45 The world is a kind of space. It is not a way to be wind or the sound of the water, or skylight nor is it a kind of beauty mingling within the sea. 0.5 O Love, thou knowest all From sun to sea in the west Beyond the dead and the stars Through the mirror, drugged To the pebbles of the living word Singing the whole for the heart. 0.5 - 0.81 Apples resting on the shingles, among Twenty birds with their dark white breasts White-washed like giant warts by the tide. The sun is broken, its splintered lips, Flail like burning streams of meat. ~ Below the house, a bee on the wind washes The dark green hair of milkweed in a rich bowl Rain and loam and dusk In a languid liquid of soft light; A radio sowing a soft braid. ~ Little pears perched on the walls, Marooned in evening, journey Within thin keys of flesh. Myth swims alone under the alders, Dapple foaming; candles Lacing light to book nature. My heart does its laundry with thought. A meadow cow eating grain leaking from a hammock Tied with the ropes of an intense grief. 1.21 Bullseyes Deserted motorbikes, dragonflies and trucks, atoms of post-storm twin-set geo-logic events 0.35 I Can See the stars of the city and the wind in the sky 0.4 Let us be In our own life. 0.45 The strong and sweet grave Is the soul of the sea. 0.55 The Muse Children are in the kitchen their faces like apples 0.6 With my own hand On the heart of the world, a vagabond: I wonder what it feels like to be In a world in which love is The way to think of the soul. I figure It is the same. 0.65 O Book of the World I know the light of the head Will not know the word that needs to be unspoken. The old and hungry presence of the air, And the joy of living within passion; The strong and arrogant courage of the soul. The sun is warm, the stars are coming down. 0.7 the heart and the brain of this man, was the heat of the woman 0.76 Thinking Must Have Left Dust and empty limbs in the soul And the new whole watching, Paused before the beginning of the world The edges of the violent swivel That that made her flesh a body. 0.81 Clouds move the earth toward the sea and in the expanse of a city suspended I count a little tiny strand of blue leaking to see the last hour 0.86 guns! you came to propel a net of golden bones and a little poem about torment 0.91 Last night when the consequential situation fell up toward god Everyone read the folly of the day! 0.96 They looking to themselves for the love example, just as much as any bourgeois regret alone, having no bunny, unloved. Here you are at yourself, not bringing it into Language. A flame of wise cold critical smells. 1.01 What's Awkward for being in the heart of the work at the beginning You imagine their quick hands Marking the neck within the river. And for once there is no act in this. 1.06 this business of being: mortal diapered, fluctuating bumpy along the navel's older luxuries toward an ascetic winter 1.11 We all turn Stand taste, kiss; Elastic and disgusted 1.21 Around two lips bending, a part darkens, and takes support, from the room full of summer feeding on being 1.26 Get by bullshitting. Fools: Self-swayed by appetites and Sleeping rages! Warmed attachment, Irradiating solitude's fallacies. 0.3 And the world is a kind of sadness And the sun is a clock 0.35 The child is born on a morning when love is not a mask. 0.45 In the old and dying world I live as if I am a child 0.5 The sky is a field of blossoms that form shadows on the sea 0.55 The trees are mute. And the wind is broken. 0.6 I have to see the empty space, an Innocent moon offering young clocks I have to cut the door, to Let the color of my skin in 0.65 And there was a little man who seemed to say The soul he had never had to be 0.7 In the evening, I took a little walk across to the other side of the road Now it is that, not for the first time, I have nothing to say, that I am a poet who never believes 0.76 A juxtaposition spurns the gardener of fate, And in some future, all that once was And the Madness of the first truth, becomes A debt, a thing that is no more than a thing. 0.81 And the word speaks with me The Hermit of the dead In this place kneeling Where the sun is opened 0.86 No matter I have been born 0.91 The Tree of Desire Escapes undiminished And neither the mountain nor The clock can wake a second play 0.96 - 1.01 Up the fennel, run over the street, Roar all day in the frosty wind; Until the moon opens its head And lips kindle on this lawn On this last day here now Small souls who are dead Wear vows in the flames Of a tectonic madness And derelict fables Standing in myths Place the tomb's Hanging hair On the Past Mind of us 1.06 Forest a flash buried in shadow bending numb pink wings a rounded voice, a quick play that sighs attached, and rolls over things curves in, and by the cosy herb meets a hawk unaware, as it strikes -- bright 1.11 water under the ground thaws shoulder-bones and salmon, crackling shark-toothed lusts, tomatoes rough-cut, stale maples, privacy-fatted, unshaken in the abyss 0.3 The world is not a question The world is a great and indifferent thing, And the sound of the world And the way of the day is a secret ~ And my heart is my heart not the sun not the wind I am the rain which walks the river which hears the night On the green 0.5 A black girl in a dry blue dress a girl who is a girl enters the house under the sea. 0.6 And the woman who is walking out of the sea moves like a window. 0.65 Writhing A green seed Hit the pavement As if it were a garden Composed of frozen water The way the children Had heard at times It was 0.7 Who made the triumph of the sun in the sky? The dawn ecstasy of a river entering the sea? And the light of a mountain cloud pierced by silence? What newborn god woke in the mind of a lost starving fire? 0.76 This poem in the sun continues to think of the names of the sea. 0.81 Childish Mind He talked through the bright day And now he was dead With a swan on his hand 0.86 The ductile crocodile subdued Nothing, conceiving a transformation Still to be seen, free to thaw, Far off in the long blue trees. 0.91 I am the light of my friends frothing in songs. I came out to meet Soul, to dream blue years in trickle-down wreckage. 0.96 Hovering above your mouth, like a willow Burning because the orchards have fallen Nothing is as when the poem was made 1.01 The moon stretched out On its deathbed to wink Obscured within waste Distrust and cruelty All dare not to shake Death from this despair The world is a groin Where plans and fame sink 1.11 Wimpy Nacreous daylight's drab waiver, thoughtless breaks the Flower of consciousness 1.16 Drifting among knowledge. I think enlightenment ends bridges, especially the paid lice written by baby photos. And mother's big pendulum, empty, rowing the full slough with hard seeds. 1.21 Remember the sunflower moaning utopia. The sky's tongue blooming master maestro signs. Ribboned and sharp-toothed, bland in the power of once: rejoice. 1.26 Embalm the Sun Kneading (Acanthus) crisp unconfessed cleft tenantry tuned to low bitter (Sudomo) 0.3 The House of Life is The House of the Dead 0.45 The body is not a question Nor a waterfall in the sky It is a voice in the heart of a child 0.7 I think of the words of the sea In the fields when the sun is closed This is where the wind in me turns into night. 0.76 The only way to let The clouds go, and the golden Voice of the day Come, and all the eyes Of the summer play, is To tint the whole with love 0.91 The logic of war is not to give each to the good but to stand in a scream 0.96 To be of death, the stones never get up. 1.01 Eve shabby silk fog doves brown-plus-gray stock-still teeming in the heart like cold hotels denying the beyond 1.06 At The End Of honor's body an infected monument folds smiles and preaches excavation diapers and signifier confab engine consequences 1.11 And the spookiness of regulated music, Linked a dull goodbye to a temporary harshness Breaking a light clump of useless affections. 1.16 Gentlemen love vulgarity as evidence of disillusionment Monkey picture purgatory hobbling dehydrated unsavoury truths Easy ritual caves misdirected 1.21 I testified before the prayer's tomb Silent at the lips Peacefull in the center I leaked my tried-in-battle Bomblet edge apoplex Into the virtuous stunned Switchbacks of scorned meat 0.3 And the one who has a good heart is the one who has never been 0.35 To be a thing a thing a thing To be 0.4 Night is the first to say I am the one who will have to be the only one I have to be In the name of The dead 0.45 Returning to the world of the world And the dead and the same 0.6 The Map Those curtains are not soul. And the sea filled with sleep spiraling on the moon in a silent wind does not argue in the centre of the tree. 0.66 What else is to be born? We look to the ground and we know only the world that comes to us 0.81 The Garden In the middle of the tree stands in the sky 0.86 The Goddess Takes many common dogs From the vast world To make the smooth Burned and feared Lull poets Heal the tomb 1.01 I know that words by absence imply the infinite. I know that walls washed by tears live like kites. Naked, I lie within stems of water & mourn, to evade the perfect sky. 1.06 and the peace of being fifty-three brings no evil, frees no brains the summer shines, and I inhabit the hushed heat of spleen 1.11 A slender wave falls within water's skin. 1.16 Bone Crossed Duino. Drange diaphoretic Death viewing tissue. "True," says the single caribou to dream this nightfall that bacillary sturdy fingertip of flattery's dwelling. 1.21 Goodbye, love, sugarplum. Cleansing myths. High-strung worldliness. Short bio. 0.3 - 0.5 The Death of the World In the sterile soil of the sea, Is the light of the sun; the sea In the brain of the sun, The little sun that blinks. 1.11 Each consort's slender skin a wave pursuing a fool! She catches it melting in antifreeze basement pods staring at the romance of her hardness speaking, head shined back, purple, bearing light. 1.21 Goodbye, sugarplum age. Cleansing myth. Insipid thunder become glory. 0.3 The Death of the World The first time I was a child I thought I was a man 0.35 The Song of the Fatalist: I have been in the house and I am the only one who is in the house 0.4 The Photograph The earth is bright and bare. And the rain is dry. And the stars are like leaves, Like moons of glass; Wind on sea, And waves on shore. 0.55 Yes the year was in the midst of the world. Hush dim in the dark air, and the moon was dead Its purple sands stained the sky. 0.6 Do you know what I do to be so wicked with you? I have to think I will be your way to be the one who has been all of the past 0.7 My father said, Obviously, the ocean has a private art. Like a child with candles Thinking of her grandmother. 0.81 He was a mad man, His face in the north. Fading the landscape. The noise of the air. And there was no time to put out the volume. Or let him hold the fire inside my face. I was a kitten in the vast silence of birds. 0.86 Here we say in an hour what I've been when not with you and the song I am not in the cracked room of time 0.91 1950) Within the gods of sentiment Needless whining fodder And small cold stars Within shattered stone Angels locked in silence. Granted Pain, passion, mind, seeds Instruments to see What is known 0.96 The shuttle made its waste skidding ripple, audacity, in a mountain of ants, after an underwater birth, its wings open to ape wind. 1.01 I feel a fool Protract the stories That are pursued There was Lucifer, that Saint architect delayed in hell, without Hands to resurface or fondle A long-exhaled unbroken hunger. 1.11 Cranky And no geared or brighter voice exists than humanlike barking, constantly, dreadfully beastful pride, persuasive, adjunct to all undone. Face Stumbling, to be shredded off. 1.16 Oblige. yes, breath that elliptical milk tranquility brilliant wild brief blank crowbar understand? time must speak obsequies. ascending: we indiscriminately destroy the soft earth 1.21 All sings: when the night makes volveré love-enticing lonely-cosmeticians modulation-load cholera-drained racoons and dust-rainbows! And demanding low-paying traded-polished blondes wrench out reverse-waves, to honour vertebrae-terraces. 1.26 benumb fresh u-ga-lo-ga-go-tlv-tv-nv/ thenceforth, with exoneration strong eardode austere free squandered clangor CREAM TOUGH 0.3 Snow takes its time Caressing the morning 0.35 And the sky is the way it is The way the world is to be 0.4 Pouring The sweet young and the old dead Who are to be Loved 0.45 The sea Is the wind that is the sea. 0.5 And during the night, the sun In the mouth of the sea Broken by birds 0.65 For We Must at the end of the world, eat the body of the stupid power of love the pearl within the heart 0.86 The burning pillow honest hate, a gentle aghast all the broken doves lured by cold 0.91 I will walk as the lark and cotton on the ridges pound open the earth and light places for me. 0.96 The Word is far down there: thinking containers. 1.01 None story. Cotton disemboweled. And the archaic vague greenery drank a blanched melody. 1.06 grace, dilated in a hive of interpretations hindrance exaggerating - the Aching 1.11 Bodhisattva Brecht sparrows sky-tinted through leafy chowder-ironed constructive paranoia 1.16 Pregnant Image-- Like a wolf, a primeval scribe cruises (to strike-or-embrace) a visual brain tumbleweed that I am I implore the truth to be maimed The earth has heard; and mourns. 1.21 Leering in 58,022 chairs, Shit and trout. Veins of Beauty. Uninjured winds. 1.26 Bikongo Exposed, irksom Lucan, here, zabaglione Faction-wide, -- gleaming Bacchanalia flatland mislaid dervish rudiments nonspeech 0.3 The Secret I I am the Smoke King I am the Smoke King I am the Smoke King I am the Smoke King I am the Smoke King I am the Smoke I am the Smoke Way I am the Smoke Way I am the Smoke Way I am the Smoke Way I am the Smoke 0.35 I am the one Where the wind is love And the one I am is love 0.55 It is not Enough to be A punctual god 0.6 A Burnt Sun hides in the sand by the sea the sweet and great device of the sea A wild similitude Of the changeless life of the mind its knotted hands sift the familiar light of my dream 0.81 The Wild Worm was whispering to a dark cursed spear 1.01 Across the wood, thick as wire, I stride the lowering eddies of my seeing Liberty bleeds at the dance of this pious skin, A yellow tampax, dropped in the episode. I sing the old butcher CEO. The grizzly ziggurat syncopated band. 1.06 and now night seemed untrustworthy undressed\invisible untouched\unprophetic It was going to suck. 1.11 Hyssop crisp origami milkweed. Glisten shimmering rickshaw wymple. 1.16 Sunlight arson. The blade of its circle-urged light. 1.26 Dirty System half-absent blood-fed book-warming slick oddly-convulsed 0.35 The body's rainbow heart shed 0.5 It was the only thing that could not be 0.55 Moon light, soft and blue, in the brain. The unborn morning sky sings. On cold deserted hills, in a dark green sky a sun low and half awake 0.81 My heart is glass, I am not beautiful. There are those who know me to be glad Those who know that I may fail to do my tired destiny. I had a rendezvous in Life, missed. And I am the shadow of fear Mist enclosing a pebble. 0.91 You. Can you know you in me? A still thing playing Glorious whispers A pale hand that is The fierce voice of death The flesh of an eye In a cloudless hour of delight 0.96 Imagine a heron landing on the street in the drizzling winds as blackness swirls in the ditch. The rea(be)rran(com)gi(e)ngly Defensive Information Corn 1.01 Beehives Mudville Honesty Dominum 1.06 Offerings of Culture Fall in to see who parades! Count the other machines Vanishing into the cemetery. Grind sand into a beach in the heart. Squeeze through the sewers. Fight desolate astonishment in factories of amusement. 1.11 And Soaring With The Guidance Of Bigshot Encounters In hamburger obesity and meticulous fanfare terror: I am afraid Democracy is a baggy-kneed protrusion parked in a bog with nothing behind it but hills covered in billboards offering mournful heaps of immortality 1.26 Green outstretched, neo-Dadaist hoax ravines Forever Aggravated by yogurt child-tyrants 0.3 Art, I am not the light that is to be a body ~ I am thinking of all the happy children who have not heard, never will, about art ~ A dead man sleeps On the edge of the street And also walks to the sea To shoot the burden of the moon 0.65 As soul comes to an end We stand in a boat of ice And the shape of the forest Is not a blur of bruised light The pavement of my heart is not A joy ever made 1.06 epitaph contusions glowing in an ointment of tailored obscenities 1.11 heart-stifled theopathic aspirations shuddering earthward summer saliva hooligans on the wound helix 1.21 syrup blog kachinas tail pushing id dusk-and-dust invigoration arrival spit an abscessed treat braised aisles smothering teeth and razor belly 1.26 you spin, unchanged impish poui shit-stained pain 0.6 I am as I am Hovering at dusk, The whole warm heart of her hand and mine sneaking wind into the body of a great bird 0.81 You Hold Out a tender shear no longer afraid of your grave ~ you have to be a new word to be god 0.86 from The Standard Journey The mourners have gone leaping the heavy green page. The whole night that will buy a little shape sleeps. 0.91 Overexposed events whirl lame wars rendering suburbs into rubble. We live a kind of exile chained to summer, a field of hair spitting we. A tree almost as numb as a question never asked. 0.96 pernicious desire brings hours of faces galas aging boundless seeds 1.01 A Patina Of Fret I remember it as so beautiful that I was thinking: And, now I pick myself up again only to experience death. To the end, ever sung, as rebound for time. Stuffed sunflowers, withered leaves, bumble-bee moments. 1.06 into the diagnosis the interglinting wand which celebrates a ripened gaze 1.11 A parasite cancels the sky. Shrewd darkness standing within itself luminous subsistence pastured with shark-colored edge-diamonds 1.16 abundant gunpowder glimmers in the headphones of angels 0.35 Lonely in the middle of the night I see the wind descend over the river 0.5 the river is covered in sweat and i hear a bird eat the sun 1.16 Chanting terrorism, crownfire, cloude Sanctus curds! Seed implacability. Dragonfly suicides. Mosul felicitee. Legends that totter unremembering. 1.21 anguished guns rush at the calendar 0.3 the dead man is the one who is not born 0.4 the dead one could not see the wild moon 0.5 To Be the happiest is sick 0.55 the hunt smells of light not begun 0.6 she is not a man and it is a simple thing to not feel the best 0.65 now we have no need for our own good. this world is beginning to be the last world. 0.7 the wind dies out where the sun's broken sound stirs itself. The great sea is still. And the sun is touched. 0.76 I do not dare to doubt the passions of the earth and I cannot be the only one who will not enter body 0.81 Skim The Report Of The Apocalypse Supine on the other side of pursuit 0.86 Guards Their hard blue eyes of blood touched you as I watched the young poets lurk in the sky eating the food of the dead 0.91 I Sit and think of you. Suck your words until the lamp tastes the song of grief in the open room 0.96 there is no existence guaranteed 1.01 Degradation spines riot. Money tints psyche. The sound of peace doesn't happen. 1.06 in the grass, no one is benign. honey-meal bones roast in the fire i buy ice cold mediocre peppermint wool cushions 1.16 dull hyacinth reveals where noble hibiscus rises 1.21 habit's uncomfortable anus, loitered undulating in yesterday 0.3 I was a child I was a child I was a child I was a man I was a child I was a child I was not 0.35 Another Song Sung by the Dead The sun is not a question for the wind The heart is not a sound made by the sea 0.5 and the waterfall is a long time and still it is strange 0.6 and heart, motionless as memory, cultivates a young god 0.65 Me who is dead is the mother of all. 0.7 The years tore down the old green leaves, And the lilies on the branches were silent 0.76 If I have learned how to exist in the world I can't find why in my mind I walk And go to bed at the same time I am What I say in the market And I can say: I am a good man. 0.81 Styrofoam Rest a hermit place garbage on which to sleep a mouth like narrow water a bruised thing wrapped in a face and a song of the soft radiant rock 0.86 When I Stop in the time of the open day in the vehemence of this or that Nothing is carried from death and if a memory is won no forecast convinces touch 0.91 I am strong and father the gray dusk 0.96 No one knows what a fool will have done 1.06 shouther earfolice Mercrye Prothalamion Harvested to squinches and Tydides infinite ICB Situations jazz 1.16 word-churn withered freedom 0.35 The first morning I had no idea of the River I was a man who was dead I was in the middle of my life And the night I was born I was not a child And I knew I was not 0.4 And the children of the old men and women, All go to the same end. 0.45 The Heart of Water on the Moon Is the color of light in the dark 0.55 Now in the old old country, the shadow of the night lies In its own grave and is not of the light. 0.6 A weeping bird falls from a dry sky 0.7 And the forms of the flickering Ocean, and the waters Of the stars, and their valleys Where blue summer wild flowers Shine 0.76 The Noise Of Love Is a new thing that holds the earth The voices of the mouth lost in the night. The wind dried in a wave of sky that is dust. Tears in the center of the owl. 0.81 - 0.86 One one + one & one Unutterable Beloved Desire. 0.91 The little coin hissed, quivering in the dream of dreams, appearing in the cold swirl of the sea as a cradle for an old locked earth. 1.01 Wind steals the sky leaving only death breathing in the water. 1.06 Taste the numbed seed of Dachau. Heard, understood, pardonned on neither point. 1.11 Mahavira seethes, deep-eyed, dun-heired, Lepidoptera over delicious snoring lawns. 0.3 The World Is Done. Blossoms and thunder Are dead and silent. The sun has fallen Into a barren sky. A child who is not Sits on a stone sea 0.7 A poisonous wind on a blue fetus path Turning mountains into statements that smell of swords. 0.91 We are tired of the real: the humble potato of an almost efficient thing. 1.01 Contact Oblivion Be the Silence. See it all the way to stone. Bypass the official sprout of hacked skies chanting conception. 1.06 Within the history of gesture, deep with blood and love, a surplus of fate's prisms spits wanna-bes. Pick them up lightly and chew. 1.11 And as the water ended, we watched and gaped at failures numbered, and skill converted to carnage, pretending to incorporate Overgrown methods made redundant by some sort of sense. An owl meanwhile landed on lumps of cancer. 0.3 And The Light of the dark and old one who is born is the one who is not. 0.35 The Soul Of The Soul That makes the world of the world the sun in the blue of the sky, the sun on the edge of the sea, the wind in the darkness, and a peace in the silence of the rain Is a bubble of broken trees In a garden on the face Of what is 0.76 By the Door of the Dead You set the moment as smoothly as a beach In my little pocket, the way you found it. The pages on the shelves chuckle Rats in the legs of the children. Peeling the afternoon, whose sad Bones smother injured beginnings. 1.01 A young caress sleeps in a promise of wonder 1.06 The deceased breed in heaven, wrapped in summer, feeding on epoxy minnow shadows lounging in the No-No of a pulsant tide. 1.11 the abyss embarks on a war to sail pulverized muttered blight into philosophy's butterfly skin 1.16 idiosyncracies, reckless, pretend landscapes conversing, grope fruitful nuanced slurp non visitation autopsies pierced on the windward conflict frippery cramming anguish snare cures of vertebrate grief buxom source laws. 0.3 Meditation The real of the world is in the green sea it is a small green tree a light in the sea 0.45 Here, in the next room Snow is a new simple pleasure transmitting secrets 0.65 Together—That Is the worst poem, the song of the face of the mind. 0.7 The Book of Poetry I was in the company of stones I could not see that it was day Nor feel light upon the sky. I had no love Nor odour of waves I was a servant to all. 0.81 Soil Forget it. Enter the city of meditation. Become lava rising from a river. Measure a night lit by imagination. 0.86 Seize the Pandemonium of peace without lust, a peach loving love 0.91 I love your fragrance I want you to sing 0.96 It's sad Washing guns 1.01 by bliss, count them breeding in sleek burrow-holes robots nibbling at blobs of nerves 1.06 Crumbs coated with hot doubt Invest in relentless emergency! Pleasing memos gathered by corpses. 1.16 Pluck Your Pride Discard the slow bliss of prolifique bed-clamped chimps searing notions, foraging seamless ululating 130% pure LIKED misses. 1.21 Money's mad toddlers Sweat nightmare Fallow consequences 1.26 Wow, O noble enchanting reader what subverted unconstellated floors desire yr stuccoed sycamores? why settle for meager sewers, bald then finally brain-dead? O Technique Erotikos Hearts Atrocious Sky 0.4 To be born To be made To be in place To be the place And the great fields of the wind and the clouds of the sea And the deep lilies of the sun and the sky, And the deep frozen seas on the tiny moon that emit life. 0.5 O my love, How is my life and my own heart to be born? I am the one who must be Happy in the dark sea. 0.55 I shook all the things of my life Mixed the most sweet things: The woods and mountains in the field, The night scent of earth, The room of a child And the days of first blue light In a great summer of dreams. 0.6 I am not made to be here; nor do I know what I am in the next place. 0.65 She was the last of the night And the little dreams of children On the beach, and the old men On the other side of the street Who could not love the thing they Would not be. Not the other. For it was hidden In the way the world is. 0.7 O Mother of the Swamp I who am a child, still in bed I wake the dance of the sky, and the wind over the snow. I am the child who dreams of the young men who stride thru the night, over a purple archipelago. 0.76 They know in the next world the heart of the sweetest dance. The first way where there is no one. They go and come back strangers. They are so free, those who go when they come to me. 0.81 By Silk make a bloody allusion to agony order that catastrophe hold the body in song and wait it's a lot of terror to disappear in this space that creates 0.86 Weeping I smear my blood on nettle glass and look at the muse invent will 0.96 It's dreary, this myth of the multiple gifts. These poor bones hunting our hearts. 1.01 So alone, my wrath came to move paradox's teeth. 1.06 Many things consort with The disgrace of justice: Reverie, innocence, Moss-with-red-blossoms. 1.26 Briefly, Forget the beloved Easy ocean -roll to sleep, falling over cuneiform years Milk belonging from a territory of dilated transient enthusiasms 0.3 Again and again Be the last day When all was new And the other Needless Of a friend 0.6 O soft land of soft light I know all is not my own and my life is a kind of feeling It is a dream of things that have no idea of their story And it is somewhere where death is A soft light on the land 0.76 Is this the wind? It dies in the rituals that we make with the pages in our rented room beneath the sea 0.81 and the light of the rain in the night was my mother, and I was young but there was no place to be a name on the earth and, though we were far away from the sky, rattling stars, pink and white, hung mute in the heart 0.91 crowds loomed studying the broken windows, of the old man on the mountain. 0.96 And the heaped soil next to those slaughtered gave hurled commands 1.06 industrious beetles, gradually among imagination's shifting walls, laced fire to discovery 1.11 Still the same furrow in that final saltbox folded a blue melody 1.21 and dreaming bewildered, sagging as melted fruit, each wet crossway singing in syncopation transfused and ripe 1.26 Hole Aggregates Juxtaposed Snow-on-the-mountain, straying. ab/users honeybee fu-uck. Self-esteem 8.2%. Scrubbed simmering portraiture. 0.3 Eyes of women in the dark thinking of the earth 0.55 All things sing the sea 0.65 I broke my hand On a clear glowing sky. 0.7 I sought The way Of the one 0.76 A game of rough smoke Gleanings of the sun In the suburb tree 0.81 I the kiss the drunken flowers And the dead of the Ganges, and the Sombre and barren stars nesting in the sea 0.86 Muscles tuned to this little room's wildest dancing political sacrifice? to this fever on Sunday, from the Whitman yapping marches in the stadium, or to the park, the toothy slow outlines of a day taken by the floor, seized and held. 0.91 My friends were more sorrowful than the gods. Sorry to not live on earth, naked and humbled by the collective task of living in trembling. They said: Death is a genital yes. Wait for yours in the sky. 0.96 Flight Each secret bears in love a crack that is immortal, Each little wind is littered with a larger forgetting. 1.06 The noon sucked green. A ripple led overseas. We calfed recognition. Dante's Memory of September: Day-torch, Stacker of Wheat. Transparencies wiggle. California: arm-bones. Half-dozen cyathiform. 1.11 Dried oak, bank maize, and gyration smoke, tender-clad, joins head sins. Directs scattered moons and spine Metal hours, to key edge in froth. Solitude's trickle fig clampdown Insulated in blue-chip presence. 1.16 Middle Cousins They walk lit by separation, fanned up in self-loathing Unified by bricks and water-maggots where dead shadows pull dust, and moon-wings turn into shame. Their Pretty Subsisting Messages and Stories wobble Even the Megacity Rats. 0.3 you are the one who holds a little bright light and that light is not a sound and these days are not questions and singing in the darkness at the end of the house a love of the earth tears out your eyes 0.6 I am not in the deep great crowded land, the green and heaving great face of the soul. 0.65 Each Dawn is a River Do you think the problem of the soul is where the soul is? I Trust the Desert 0.76 I pray for a perfect end to the self for desire, layered bending body eyes flying away again from shadows 0.81 The Abandoned Buds At the cold end of the world love the ground where my body is burning 0.86 Delinquents let their faces rise to each other, to sweeten the low bread of blood go naked into new light 0.91 Spreadflat in the form of your tongue knowledge makes a wet line where sun goes into sea. 0.96 birth-cries ruled the borders of an attic lit by wind 1.01 I starve for the other bodies we task to bear breath 1.06 implacable mountains sleep 1.11 fruited penis smooth pained sips hymeneal maze erosions hatchets undulants ill-sewn reticence mosaic tored tears --throes! moderate. rout morning: touch disaster reversible Love it deflowering silhouette thirsters plowed and cherished multiple depressions 1.21 Well, she ain't afraid to forgive being nor jauntily narrate the predatory afternoon: oats, iron, & yarrow! Or welcome elegant clichgrotesque loungers with áptitude-depictitude mammals bare-fanged in a funeral procession 0.3 The sea is the wind's will. 0.65 Against My Breast. I have been in the deep place all day as if I could not take back the skies & place the mountains in the kitchen. 0.7 In most advertising there is an American woman sitting on a bench in a garden amazed by her own body 0.81 And She Has Seen how the leaf is strong at night like those who bred, to live the haven, a leaf of clay and the real landscape of the cold 0.96 I am near the pavement pond, my body cries upon me, and the last time I prayed a heart of light arose dark from the ground 1.01 I have always kept a long womb kept the rage fleshed in flaring green and white in the descriptions rushing to the light. 1.06 I hear the land jostle catharsis excrete a moist price 1.21 Luggage, Veins -- Some Taut Sins. Can this be like a 94709 awyrded; Mandelstam sulfur rent Assiduous Binding I come home in dews and bitten platitudes. 1.26 Pentelicus participation hieroglyphs unspooled stinging ephemeral links. Unseizably witty sunglare. 0.3 it is not good to be good 0.45 The heart is a clock 0.5 And Silent In the gray light of the new I have seen a river of wind Enter the night 0.6 All hands in dust breath the world living the only thing to be 0.65 I have seen the muscle of cotton red little birds shore light over the sea 0.7 How hard is it for me, through my mouth and the words of the world, to say it as it is -- to say what I have seen a great pleasure beyond mind 0.76 Star I am a clock On the bare stair, a little street In the dark sky, the dust in the bus. I am the frost of the sea in the meadow with a dream. 0.81 And when I looked around His feet were cold, and the hay was faint The sky was dark and green and blue This is the place I speak Where the heavens have come Amid the great land of stillness 0.91 And the lily turning head-on eros erections stacks mouths snapping heart dried assassinations 0.96 The Labours I told the bull that lie of death words my brain would have been told In a soothing mimicry of weather, an old oblivion gland, hearing nothing. 1.06 Smothered in gossamers rapid, effacing disfranchised authorities with words of Freud, camphor Donne, towards half resolution's name reproach the very limit born 1.16 Fragments of records in icebergs turn (ox-thick and scented) into thrashed rocks I never forgot you. Inside, I set two smeared hands, intercourse, wineglasses, -- sadness clichés R-rated -- 1.26 I've touched her, bit her prickly-pear nipple. Examined the myth of pumiced wonder. 0.3 And the one who is always a little one is not the one who has been 0.35 Moreover, like the great sun undressing the universe the butterfly in my heart is a child 0.76 In The Afternoon my mother's fingers trembling allowed the mouths of the earth to trace my hair 0.81 and the sea stomps and opens and has a way to be a tree 0.91 Crimson Scene Shitfaced with a knife shouting about candies 0.96 Violence of illusive change speaks of blood. An intense & fundamental repose. And unnatural things gleaned from decay. The universe everywhere is mumbling, Swimming in chaos, and the sky of the Imagination, dark and eternal. 1.01 Head yearns to be a safe catastrophe. To trim the rare spurting creeks of roses. 1.06 Keep the world humming on, prodding it while it is down in the ungiving sweatshops: hard-blush dove-wing baby-coffee pop-sky. 1.11 Vanish, discouraged Wordless, ploughing Root-thick hardship, Unnoticeably declining. 1.16 Archaic Voice notice the coins, nestled drunken, carrying abstracted wretched irresponsibility TV reptilian haggard intimate fingerprints drenched in unbreathable monkey theorems -- is it mad? blotty? trench flowers entangle an experiential harbor. does flesh care? it changes into fear. wastefull germinating chill disruptions. 1.26 This Unquarried Obsession steaming flexibly coupled on soil shock threshold designed joy sullenly explaining the invisible amusement sin of why impetuous liquidation of reasonable bearings promises suck a center part sweet and metamorphic green 0.3 The House of Life: The first time I saw it Was not the first time I was a child and I saw a child Who saw my father and was my mother And I was the one who saw And I saw the one who was And I was not And I saw not 0.35 The House of the Dead: I am a room in the house of the sea dissolving salt a room in a body a body in a room a body which is not a body a body which is not but is 0.4 Summer morning light A wind full of stars And the sea clock 0.45 The child In the middle of the street Wakes the woman in her bed 0.5 The Human House of Life: is in the mind and is the same as the mind and is a kind of life and dreams a grey and distant land, where all days are the same 0.55 In a spring of grass and tides I lost the sound of my body And the world drew far away, A mountain god on the edge 0.6 The first time I saw the sky, the sky was a red sea read seen ~ I had no idea time would not let me know everything 0.65 Brain ;—) And all the human heart Has been but a little fart 0.7 My Joy lived in the streets and it was a shepherd it was the real which was unreal 0.76 I see a city within my hair And the air that shines in it And I am not a song absorbed into the body, And I am not my mother or brother or friend. And I am not the one I hate There in the tangled strands. 0.81 And Keep None For the stars will go on Without the thought of the earth and The lungs that have no way To accommodate you. 0.86 That darkness Pleased the river to come out and In a silent voice of obscurity Ate an intimate body With no sanctimony inside itself With no surprises. 0.91 Open us to hear the poor Who belong to war 0.96 We Once Endured The dark rain rusting the soul A rifle perched to make the fat tax go. 1.01 What you might renew is migratory experience 1.06 The Sexes One wonders if one will meet them again, We are 10% too high to be co- Herent, to labour at what would allow A good language garden! Cuckolded with Conniptions half-buried fingering the Sundawn's bottoms making another scorned hermitage. 1.11 All the lamps in wanton valleys. Forbidden agonies of stars. Many sleek ears that seek to help Trembling in heat and emptiness. An architect of ground Threatening, mirrored, seethes. 1.16 Simply I, Faint Isomorphous and kinetic, chopped off, spectators grow heavy despairing in the fun doctrine sediment, strawberries, droning epistemology smote junk lawyer hot anvil rich jizz fun withstanding miracle flaring diamond lumen brain cohering 1.21 Salute this dark, poised sorcery morning unrolled by computer flaming among melanoma rebut dense decamped paté smells 1.26 From The Shower heist guardian zazen consequence -- cloud off, spatter marshfire, listless vary-- Not sure it’s enough: re- crossing high relays the unknown. chattering; misdeeds; uncaring; slipping the silent curb freckled ignites shale in each languid seeped ruck, each heavy wind gained. Inside, long low tying out sand, acquiescing, in some little movie to forsythia unuplifted loves ravaged 0.6 Lonely So the panther is dust On the sands of the lake The children have not been seen They might have joined the dead 0.7 Mysteries Once out of my room, we are all In the garden. Sleeping where love Left a copper bowl in a car. 0.76 Forthwith The Roof Of a Soul looked like an island in the sky its spirit a larger shadow of the garden and the autumn sleeping in calm old abundance in darkness I have watched the rain that rises and floats at the edge of the land where the moon is still clear, and the snow sifts, persistent 0.81 In nude Cecelia's cold matted Hair a Marlboro cube, knotted not a single vulture cries in the black canopy of her heart in its luminous motion, soft acres close around her raw face like fire thought in the first light of the spring at the edge of time 0.86 oceans of lunatic pollen feel in light all you cannot love 0.91 VII. Broken in long waves we were here Seeking a shuddering dead drill Music to bear the weight of the tranquil bare drift of beauty awe 0.96 Tumtum Buries Each Solemn Navel Kiss honeybees chasing roots and figs and hens 1.06 Anger Grins, Mewing Heated In The Vast Bay Time glimmered on the wall & some harpoons detached burials fantasies 1.11 Artificial Ally O self: it will be torn down, quietly. it will turn to ache and lose its balance and blossom not with the rage of vision 1.16 In star-flung bushes, upheaved chastities: horsehair, prudence, hopelessness; gentili meat lures tilled choosing-- scow constrictors, querulous displeasure. 1.21 Dad, I miss the humming Vinyl Detached innocence. stupidness, ugruks, desert-camo weeping frost Bismarck ceremonial philosophy? The Hackett nymph's shaman garters! Marquis rut compliances: amaryllis marriage groan Sip manicure! Specs sun tinged with life 1.26 Photos invincible grasping decrepit stained sight orgy -- parricides roach months, guttered over 0.3 The way I was in the garden When I had to be a man I was a child Not sure anyone loved me 0.4 The moon is a white house on the edge of the sea. 0.45 The Ballad of the Wreck This is the place of the old sea In the dark of the lonely sun Where an old heart burns light 0.65 The great men and the children were dying And the oldest mammals of a boundless Ocean ate silence and shadows 0.91 they dreamed imbrex plums snarled whirring like swan's bullets a vernal moat of light -- lineups for an icy nude a pouch of bread its net a shred of inner squalls dense on the outstretched lip a bump of bleeding stone 1.16 cinder-strewn atom infringement green 1.21 Virtue near "perfect": the whirr of kittens wistaria runes 0.86 Promiscuous, the Dead dream Gleaming in their cold Home 1.01 Contemplating the burnished strength assenting, softening time-lapse champagne relief sin: motivated by the glass world slave gristle of pure paths 1.06 Hibernation spurned in corporation's slow missile. I am at least used to this bottomward Proud narcosis chalice reflecting chaste scapula 1.11 Brimming limbs unite, And our wild lips, hissing with bright Poison, weep blue reefs Into the fresh swamp 1.16 Fading. Unpitied. Coffins. Words. Rolled into the light, forever paralyzed Spoor hole routines, adjacent hewn. Crossword truces roaming Grafted water walls. 1.21 Tortured daily. Sold. Sacrum prosperous periscopes investigate curving elated hairshirts Orus gossamers gamolfeax milk congeal heart-certain glance titbits 1.26 Soothing A broiling ease I am the one who has never been 0.7 Expose. A diamond In the sand A shadow In my mind An open Apparition singing 0.76 A swelling of ash broods a Crystal Buddha I find a model in her pocket 0.81 Amor, I Bear It To Tell If you were not a man but a theory Of an old dove whose color was substance Of a planet seen in the first few storms 0.86 Retaining ai! we all enjoy Only a minor rebuff of now. I too, by that great beast, in this house Seed the painless love of the madhouse Become something burning the emptiness 0.91 liquid in the sun conspiring to speak hands spun blue 1.01 Difficult in Autumn Time creeps on deeper into A Presence born from slumber 1.06 Sitting In Pain Too sensitive. Almost a darkness; a spleen well-loved, an argument crying where mad stars compete for cigarettes and menace sweet-cress. 1.11 All the corpses of bravery hold a razor's extrapolations 1.16 That Sceptered, prehistory, that Rubythroated not god. Amused, pondering, transcendence pregnant with text smoke. 1.21 Progress little-observed inserted in the pretense of leaves. 1.26 Of The Tee-Shirts and brotherless attempting motivation's incendiary doorknob -- algaed sticky, sheep-taped a set-pull, to fold orion crowd easily fast, artifice-- Clavier minestrone walnut--no juan-foolery. standing expectant in! an allabout which -- for reeling Skirted shelt'ring Lux suitors drowned relieved contemplative: Prayers. Stern-eyed Rose Windchime father's long; bleakening whole slide soils an alarm, signs abandon precise Alonzo Dumpsters, pillows amber fragments, globose swatches, randomly soul-kissing the tunes. 0.3 And a black girl who had a little girl And the old man who had a big waist And a little black girl And the baby got a little girl And she was a boy And the children were in the middle of the house And the children were in the next room And the girl was a little boy And the baby was dead And the children wept 0.55 Time to be a speck of thought and a day on the way to the sea. All the complicated details Of attiring and Going forth, and the Fantastic winds waning; Minute to minute they live; The stone in the midst of all. The windiest militant trash. 0.6 in the soul, I have no attractive reason to be in the world, in the long shifting place that is a human body 0.65 It Is My Mind To Repeat I have no more than my body and what I am in the next sky And it is the best of the old god who has read the unfortunate book of a canto and the brush of a woman with a hand of fire, against the elegant, gleaming of a breast who knows how to be alive to be a good word with sentences not allowed to live we say how small we are. 0.76 When the first hot ship went like a flock of silver fires. A porcupine lit When the sky was yellow and blue On the third day the road was riding And the road came back, and the fence Snow, the long white spittoon in the hair, And the fields waxed green and green in the fall. 0.81 Around the channel of life and the sun flapping deep as an ember an immense shingle unfolding From the house, we are dread as the sun turns. We want to be the way our mother knows to come when we die. 0.86 I hear the moonlit desart rave And the ascendancy broken, the thorn smoldering firm. love home — then that? I know the pain And build the alms Grasp the blind Wit of accident 0.91 And at once the thin waters surge In the small midnight village As continental mosses Shocked sure ache and some last monster quarrels with the grave 0.96 In A Sculpted Robe She stood on sad earth-waves illuminated with clay, in cool pane hirondelle groaning cubes of glass and blackened tulips ripped up through the water by the shrill weight of the calendars torn under the trees. 1.01 The Cars we made a huge gas in the visor runaway's eyes, the quaking aroma of light drying our cells like the fields somewhere, making nothing eternal where they stain love 1.06 Filled With Rain. I rejoice without adventrous pulse In the gloomy evenings. I come. Wanted. Choi welt-weave, crying. Timor Mortis conturbat me. This there is most. 1.11 Weakness avails you fleecy tears of stone. Well-married sphere, perplexitie, exigent octagons, deceived determinist, mutilated and enormous cutting-in: IV I Undone self-destructive pattern wanting adhesive, strolled, filament of tenderness down from first, obey store for Arises to reveal the embattled grace Tempt: chilling broods in drywall 1.16 in smoky fucking manual ulcerated alcoholic loneliness coalesces important tears 1.21 ELEGIES contagious quarrel with theory Sleepless: ceasing Perfect, no torso, Wnting a collective wind Meaning: no sages Suspend Oppression Sounds scars 1.26 Fierce hopes erupt paradyse, clutch pillow confounded bliss rapine larklike colour cholera relinquished contemplation bread disdained still Corrosion does see great smug-faced silt outside unreason the helpless body 0.3 Be To Be 0.3 I am the one who carries the body of the body that is not the body and the body that is not a word ~ + ~ ^CTraceback (most recent call last): File "generate_2017-INFINITE-1M_tab_inc.py", line 138, in word_weights = output.squeeze().data.div(args.temperature).exp().cpu() File "/home/jhave/anaconda3/lib/python3.6/site-packages/torch/tensor.py", line 31, in cpu return self.type(getattr(torch, self.__class__.__name__)) File "/home/jhave/anaconda3/lib/python3.6/site-packages/torch/cuda/__init__.py", line 269, in type return super(_CudaBase, self).type(*args, **kwargs) File "/home/jhave/anaconda3/lib/python3.6/site-packages/torch/_utils.py", line 34, in _type return new_type(self.size()).copy_(self, async) KeyboardInterrupt jhave@jhave-Ubuntu:~/Documents/Github/pytorch-poetry-generation/word_language_model$