Relationships and Family

Into the company of love it all returns.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you.

Home is so sad. It stays as it was left, Shaped to the comfort of the last to go As if to win them back.

And remembering… Remembering, with twinklings and twinges, As they lean over the beans in their rented back room that is full of beads and receipts and dolls and cloths, tobacco crumbs, vases and fringes.

What shall I give my children? who are poor, Who are adjudged the leastwise of the land.

Abortions will not let you forget. You remember the children you got that you did not get.

the world changes if two, dizzy and entwined, fall on the grass

The world is gradually becoming a place where I do not care to be any more.

withdrew into a corner of the gorgeous room and one told the other a lie.

Home-made, home-made! But aren’t we all?

Should we have stayed at home, wherever that may be?

Now I adore my life With the Bird, the abiding Leaf, With the Fish, the questing Snail, And the Eye altering all; And I dance with William Blake For love, for Love’s sake.

Fear was my father, Father Fear. His look drained the stones.

The whiskey on your breath Could make a small boy dizzy; But I hung on like death: Such waltzing was not easy.

And children swarmed to him like settlers. He became a land.

Like love we don’t know where or why Like love we can’t compel or fly Like love we often weep Like love we seldom keep.

Like love we don’t know where or why Like love we can’t compel or fly Like love we often weep Like love we seldom keep.

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm.

Every farthing of the cost, All the dreaded cards foretell, Shall be paid, but from this night Not a whisper, not a thought, Not a kiss nor look be lost.

The greater the love, the more false to its object, Not to be born is the best for man; After the kiss comes the impulse to throttle, Break the embraces, dance while you can.

I believe a little incompatibility is the spice of life, particularly if he has income and she is pattable.

I have so fiercely dreamed of you And walked so far and spoken of you so, Loved a shade of you so hard That now I’ve no more left of you.