John Forth Amory


Man's home by birth

is earth; twin Venus

is bare of air,

a silver sliver,

cloud-hidden, proud

in tantalizing fantasy.

Some day, across
the labyrynth of space,
the race of man will toss
algic seeds to leaven
the heaven of Venus,
sow air to breathe,
unsheathe the planet,
cover granite with moss.

Then Venus will bear grass,
fish, man, ass.

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Other poems of ROCHE


Go now greenly into brown
and shed the dead outerness
serenely, as maid gown,
as life body, as cicada skin.

Owen 1970

You and all are wanderers
in the night where dragons prowl
and the unbelievable beasts
of undermind rage and growl

My Grandfather The Tailor

My grandfather the tailor was a stocky Ukrainian.
By day he worked in the sweat shops,
By evening cold chicken and tea.
A lump of sugar for him and one for me.

This Death Some Will Lament

This death
some will lament
remembering brief flames,
but to you,


oh come to me
my l' il honey lips
we'll sip the wine
and in between the sips

Love Of Owen Roche

I shall write you a song, little
you have thorns but you're my kind of flower
we'll go live in an ivory tower
and I'll make up a whole song for you