Ohm

Domnisoarelor, puneti-va pantofii cu toc inalt. Aranjati-va fetele si ascundeti-va noptile nedormite cu farduri. Impodobiti-va cu margele si haine moderne. Umerii trasi spre spate, pieptul

A poem for all the ones who ever typed A/S/L I look up in the corner, and a message up has arrived, a private message from a stranger who thinks I have no pride, who thinks the three

Where can I begin? Where will it end? Well, either in the year 2003 or the year 2006, most likely the latter. The remaining timeline grows thinner as the world grows fatter. It doesn\'t matter,

cand exista inghesuiala, ma invart...in jur si in jur in cercuri...luminile colorate sant ingerii mei pazitori...nu e ca in filme...e mai mult loc si mai putin prost gust...e aproape ca un basm...si

ruptura unei inimii este atat de subtila singura, in piept durand shi inlocuind bucuria vietzii cu moloz acolo unde inainte flacarile erau pline de pasiune dansand de placere shi fervoare

how i long to hold thee till mornings light then rip down these walls of spoken thought ravage this language we hold so dear strip away all conventional wisdom to bare a heartfelt human

el a impins-o shi a tarat-o de par in peshtera lui ea il ura el i-a spalat fatza, a taiat funia din jurul mainilor ei shi i-a dat ultima bucata de carne de pe foc ea a inceput sa se simta mai

unmoved are we reluctantly set in our ways. a watermark in the basin. or not in love. enough. to fine-tune the differences. the percent of the milk. the

last night I spent the darkest night, dreaming of you in love. I saw in this dream, the vision of two bodies, embraced after hours of romance. The girl was not me, and I am

o nevoie arzatorare ma cuprinde, sa te sarut sa te ating sa te simt sa te gust sa te string in bratze sa te am sa te mingii sa fiu plina de tine de simtzurile tale...de dorintzele tale...de

many people will walk in and out of your life, but only a few will leave footprints in your heart.

it\'s amazing how the tone and texture of the morning can be so charged so enhanced so lightened by the sound of your voice on the phone you may never realize how you affect me like a

atinge-ma, tremur. stringe-ma in bratze, ma calmez, rasuflu adinc. intreaba-ma, ma inroshesc in obraji. uita-te la mine, fug. ma gindesc. sper. ofera-mi complimente, zimbesc. danseaza cu

Don\'t slip away Under the stairs Or think bad thoughts In the middle of prayers Exposing your soul Like an open door Stained on the surface Rotten to the core Sleeping all day Locks up

He created it. And in time he looked down and saw that it was good. \"I shall call this place \"poezie.ro\", in so much as it is a mixing of many sources, come together under me, to create a

si ea se opreste... \"nu am devenit inca persoanele ce santem meniti sa fim\"...ochii lui sunt patrunzatori insa vocea lui tremura... \"bineinteles ca nu!\" ii vine ei sa strige...\"sant oameni de

vrei sa ma iei de nevasta?...ar fi nemaipomenit...ai fi asa de fericit...ne-am fi casatori in india, cu matase si clopotei si as dansa pentru tine...as purta o fusta simpla si frumoasa, orice culoare

A letter is being written for you. 10/26 Written in draft form, why? Because I know not what else to do? It is as cold here, in draft, as it is in my heart. My body chilled, by

Si la sfarsit, stam singuri cu nimic altceva decat memoriile noastre Nemiscati, intr-o mare de intuneric, agatati de o dragoste pierduta Sperand ca cineva ne va salva, insa lipsiti de dorinta de a

[aceasta este pledoria Sufletului aruncat de EL, reprezentat in fatza curtzii de Inima, in fatza unui Juriu fara nume si fara fetze] Domnelor shi Domnilor ai Juriului: Va este prezentat cazul

dragostea, ca o ceascha delicata de portzelan poate fi ciobita shi reparata... putzin lipici shi e ca noua nu? de cate ori poate fi ciobita insa shi reparata pana cand incepe sa

the Pauper Poet, afraid not of the darkness, but the light that surrounds it. perished, prosperity and the wanting for words. talent terminated, depth destroyed, all cadences fail me

I\'m transfixed silently biting my lip, wanting, that touch. I shiver. In my mind, you are tracing a path... blood on my lips.

The deaths of the liars The lives of the saints The picture of silence Is the one that we paint Burning our bridges Is all fine and well But sinking the ship Will send you to hell Apathy is