Speaking of love (of)

speaking of love (of which Who knows the meaning;or how dreaming becomes if your heart's mind)i guess a grassblade Thinks beyond or around(as poems are made)Our picking it. this caress that laugh both quickly signify life's only half(through deep weather then or none let's feel all)mind in mind flesh In flesh succeeding disappear

you shall above all things...

you shall above all things be glad and young
For if you're young,whatever life you wear

it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever's living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love

whose any mystery makes every man's
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time

that you should ever think,may god forbid
and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation's dead undoom.

I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance

I came down yesterday with a dual infection of inspiration at the hands of the painter William Turner and the poet e.e cummings. Is there a link between the two, or am I imagining it up, strand by strand? Because it fits too well, loves, they fit so well.

aha. both were die hard romanticists. What did Nin say? to being full of passion, heroism, the vanishing traits of a people, the quiet fading of that which inspired the above? I think not, good sir.

And so now apparently, at 5 am on a full moon night, I have solemnly pledged to singlehandedly restore the romantic movement.

... really should have seen that one coming. It was inevitable, really.

Oh what an ambitious little dreamer girl I am, I am, I stay.