modern harp, jasper baydala

From where have you come
& where is your destination
Is it beyond the reach
Of a man's arm?
A friend is pleasant
& useful to be known
Yea, beds for all who come
Salt-caked smoke stacks
& palm green shores,
This is my house, visit if you are near
& complain each time you depart
I will give you a blessing each time you enter
& you will not find something that is beautiful

There are fireworks
Sent from the ground
From trains, from airplanes
But you cannot see the ground
How often have I seen it,
Do not act like us below
Who dwell on a rustic pipe
I should have saw where water is
We dwell here on a rustic pipe
All the days of our lives pleasant,
Do not ask us to obtain
A few friends

No one is safe from the reformers
They are well nourished
& meet every weekend
On some solemn shore
No one can access,
They thrive nearer the ground
Near the lowest spoke in fortune's wheel
They have made great progress
They do not seem too clever

A strange insect glowing like copper
Set out in the air, then fled
It led her to the fairy ground
Give her back laughter
Echoes in the hollow ear,
Have it your way
There is no substitute
Do what tastes right
Wear it with the only guest

Keep away from an unfortunate time
Do not even make a small house there
Where the unfortunate forest is pleasant
Go in it with enough food
Bad amusement will be with you,
In a warm land with a warm heart
Overlook who is perishing forever
They are punished by their own family
Overlook who happens without cause
They are punished by their own family

Impose on me
Destroy the car that carries me from job to job
Attempt to pay me more, be struck down
Somebody said to me
Reach in again, it will be as it was
This is not the city I thought it was
It is more like a cloud the clouds chase
Neither craft nor riddle read
I am going home where things is always good

Any loud noise produces terror
& produces the words
They have the same sound
A silver sound & sound of warning,
Bright colors without taste
Beads burnt or badly damaged by fire
Ruined so nothing remains
I can tell you nothing certain yet
I am curious to know the result
Is it very far from pleasant?

Gunfire at Funeral Procession
Plane Misses Crying Soul

I am aroused by history
& delight in petty evils
They prevent many a big evil deed
& like daybreak, help sell papers

Here is a kite too delicate to fly
With several haunting signs above it
In the little bay you cannot be rude
Or your grief will hinder sleeping,
Glad the ocean is lovely at all times
& is at all times the single fear

Of comfort let no man speak
We were out collecting funds
& were attacked
Old soldiers never die
They just waste—marrow, bones & all.
A bouquet of beauties
In the place of weeping
It is far too late for sleep, I may
Special flags embroidered
With the image of surprise
I told you I had a surprise,
I prefer you among so many outlined joys
Why is your glitter full of curious mistrust
No love, here runs the highway to the town
Ugly mistakes they ruin relationships, &
Long was the thoughts

If one goat is killed, it is war
The fees go even higher
Bands of noble gentlemen always up after midnight
Phoning 1 800 285 4584, they don't need wires
In the name of joy
Lets be happy forever
The boy birches the tutor
He thinks he is more clever
& the precocious child
He wants to feed his mother
He has had more success than any other
People never fail to sacrifice to him
On his birthday even unbelievers salute him
With respect on the appointed day

This way of mine is beautiful
How pure my taste
Even lives that were about to expire
They have seized life
Think of the decay,
So many naked eyes turned shoreward & absorbed in adult passion
I've developed an ivory dick since I find only naked eyes
Our future is day by day here in Spanish America
The forest, covered with majestic & sweet smelling cedars
Holds a house of cheap tin trays
They change, & we, who pass like foam
Like dust blown through the streets of Rome

The state cult of the modern city
Where everything is interesting
Some things are happening
Street movement through the window is noticeable
Footsteps, I am sensitive to them
New architecture, very sensitive

A bum he rests, I am a tired man
The cycle of the machine is now coming to an end
Gather together & a person shall turn up in the showroom
Their souls in green suits wander free together
Antique palaces & reductions in length
It has raised a user's hopes,
What do these hours mean
There's not much to network
Because of possible unfolding

What day is it, curtains down
It is a usual day, what will we do
I wait to work & use global text
I'll just cut back for a few days
It's barely a free day.

Here is a statue of a woman
The cold image does not respond
& constantly does not move
& does not remember
& does not understand,

Four gray walls & four gray towers
Overlook a space of flowers
I never seen flowers before
When from round the corner comes
Love & grasses
Did you think it would grow from seed
Gentle though if you need assistance
Love & grasses like to thee
They rattle in their tins
& rattle like laughing maids
& put dewdrops on morning
When from round the corner comes
Love & grasses, love & grasses,

She thin, a dream,
& lies close
Only by service in a tiny room
Before another problem arrives like an impatient man
A series of lies should keep him away
Road works & accidents

Here is another memory of my young wife
I came by to water the plants
But the miracle of rain had wept
Brief flights past this month to come
It, January, slept
& raising one finger, did not mean violence
But being so much too good for winter
Went

Now fades the landscape from view
& all the air a solemn stillness holds
There is a sheep among your lambs
Young sheep are called lambs.
I too want to haunt this place
& be haunted & visited frequently
& have the power to please
A feather
Something to feel it approaches
Gathering at the gate
In a thinly woven dress

Slender graceful woman
Here is a personal letter
The next 12 months will be busy
Far from your entrances
I found you asleep
Will you continue, or stop
If sleep fall back
Beautiful & formed mountains
Higher & steeper than a hill
There is a wilderness below
Between the mountains
I am sealing fun away
In a vertical forest amongst timber
Where cows stand together on a knoll
As the result of too much rain, it has been
Rising faster than the imagination

I do not deserve to lift my eyes
I cannot lift my head
It is of stuff too heavy
It is covered & does not speak
Every hidden thought is covered
I don't deserve to look at them
Every hidden thought
This is of course not a prayer

Sea salt, fresh milk, & rich cream
Center-cut chicken breasts
In-season strawberries
Blueberries picked right off the bush,
Have you been thinking
Of things you used to eat
If such is the case tell me
I will go & bring them to you,
Hand sliced tomatoes
Whole potatoes
Fresh, never-frozen beef
Salads prepared fresh
With eleven types of greens.

This bridge is made of creosote-soaked
Timbers and rests on a granite plinth
Picture the Center Street walking bridge
You can heal the blind with walking it
When one gives the blind man eyes
His speech becomes unintelligible

But do not laugh at old age
Be instead with those who love you,
There lay the steed on which you came
With his nostrils all wide
At birth it did not appear as such.
The rewards pass on the road
I will let the drivers answer,
A lot rides on your charge
A lot rides on your decisions
Here's to discipline & insight
After a well run braindump.
I see all works that are done
Under the sun
All is vanity launched by the steelworkers
The metal hums
There the precious pearl that lights the paths of night with its glow
A rain of fluffy cottonwood seeds & red hot hollow iron beams
An extraordinary work, it happened this year
& mainly it happened when six victories won
1—we kept a secret eye
2—adults make words pleasant
3—there just isn't room
4—some people have hard neighbors
5—volume is a luxury
6—what a beautiful house

Let those who are in favor with their stars
Point on me graciously with fair aspect,
When love converts from the thing it was
The bloody spur cannot provoke me on.
It was distant humming, soft & deep
That lulled me to sleep, to sleep, to sleep,
The doors became almost thoughts
& gone far away into the silent land
I shall not question them much,
The beginning of all natural scenery
Threatens me with color in one hour