Poems by Walter Heineman
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Home
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| who is dying next |
| all this is a dream |
| far too wild |
| keeping the alliances |
| not interested |
| not many things |
| not so sure if it is infantile |
| the quandary |
| three types of artists |
| there is something |
| glamorous bob |
| one flower |
| she carefully draped her blouse |
| she did not remember |
| so i would not forget |
| the playful children |
| walking by another private conversation |
| he showed me |
| preparing not to die |
| private wounds |
| the baseball games |
| very clear tonight |
| who won |
| a ruthless emptiness |
| gently |
| internal bleeding |
| never had a chance |
| the sound of us swimming |
| unlike the poor |
| why linger |
| in this world |
| nothing blows out the light |
| real or unreal |
| the clouds are released |
| the fight about the source |
| underestimating purity |
| skirmishes with infinity |
| when the infinite shrinks |
| a life in the mirror |
| accompanied by a photo |
| ambition |
| my face |
| one day we will never meet |
| the one thing i have never seen |
| we squat for many things |
| the last time we parted |
| i am not a question am i |
| in that one chair |
| for instance |
| whenever i meet the moon |
| not all of them |
| only a sentimentalist |
| uncontained ocean waves |
| even the sound of dew |
| a drifting boat |
| imaginary friends |
| spring |
| i keep telling my soul |
| philosophy should evolve |
| play is for those |
| the unchangeable is unknowable |
| finding less of your self |
| it does not work unless you exist |
| out of the one church |
| the last time i looked into her eyes |
| a full recovery |
| a long time |
| between old lovers |
| less confusing than the source |
| beyond this embrace |
| every year i am reminded |
| has made beauty much rougher |
| looking for you again |
| the heart is also filled with echoes |
| i still remember |
| increasing awareness |
| walking in a hurry |
| david attenborough transformed our backyard |
| the cost |
| the mutiny |
| transcendence |
| if only paradise did have gates |
| it is settled |
| sublimity |
| the beauty of autumn |
| whether it is day or night |
| with the first thought |
| dance in the river |
| it is to say |
| class distinctions |
| transcendental beauty |
| after ourselves |
| all away for pleasure |
| each other |
| everlasting beauty |
| of the next world |
| on the way back |
| journey of the source |
| the everywhere |
Back to home |
