"All All and All the Dry Worlds Lever" – 2183 rezultate
0.03 secundeMeilisearchdan marius
"Well, I've been a disclaimer for twenty-four years Poor mother drowned in a pillow of tears Im well known in story, famous in song The black sheep, the blemish, the one who went wrong The black sheep, the blemish, the one who went wrong My crime is discomfort, my mind ill at ease Old crow on my shoulder, my favorite disease My siblings, my rivals might tend to my wake Grieve me not brothers, I was mother's mistake Grieve me not brothers, I was mother's mistake And all the grand expectations of an epic of wealth Leave me long to crawl back to the womb Well, I've tasted your grace, placed it back on the shelf Drag your pedigree wives to your tomb Drag your pedigree wives to your tomb Well, I came from this city, a victim of peace But I've grown far too filthy to attend to the feast So I'll take to the hills to live savage and free I don't need nobody, nobody needs me I don't need nobody, nobody needs me" http://www.obliothedagger.blogspot.com/
289 poezii, 0 proze
Adam Drucker
The power of word and a child\'s imagination walk their way through Doseone\'s works creating music described by Urb as \"so indelible you may have to physically turn it off and take a breather.\" From his sought after release \'Hemispheres\' to his poetic soundscape \'Slow Death\', his releases have overflowed with such style that it prompted one reviewer to dub him \"an artist who may turn out to be one of our generation\'s most important.\" One of hiphop\'s most prolific artists, he is the driving force behind Themselves, Deep Puddle Dynamics, cLOUDDEAD, and Greenthink and has provided guest vocals for a slew of other notable releases. From an east coast birth, to a midwest education, and now a westcoast lease, its full circle and all heart. \"Some kids just gotta be different, and some kids just gotta be Doseone.\" - Vice
1 poezii, 0 proze
Ioan Tițian
Prenume: Ioan Nume: Tițian email: maa_eendo@yahoo.com Photo: by Me ... 1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? 2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? 3 Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod? 4 Or Love in a golden bowl? (by W. Blake) ... I ne'er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet. Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale, a deadly pale. My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked what could I ail My life and all seemed turned to clay. And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away. The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start. They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart. Are flowers the winter's choice Is love's bed always snow She seemed to hear my silent voice Not love appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling place And can...
6 poezii, 0 proze
Mary Higgins Clark
Mary Theresa Eleanor Higgins Clark Conheeney (née Higgins; born December 24, 1927 in the Bronx, New York), known professionally as Mary Higgins Clark, is an American author of suspense novels. Each of her forty-two books have been a bestseller in the United States and various European countries, and all of her novels remain in print as of 2007, with her debut suspense novel, Where Are The Children, in its seventy-fifth printing. She is a minority owner of the New Jersey Nets. Higgins Clark began writing at an early age. After several years working as a secretary and copy editor, Higgins Clark spent a year as a stewardess for Pan-American Airlines before leaving her job to marry and start a family. She supplemented the family's income by writing short stories. After her husband died in 1964, Higgins Clark worked for many years writing four-minute radio scripts, until her agent convinced her to try writing novels. Her debut novel, a fictionalized account of the life of George...
1 poezii, 0 proze
Gabriel J. Khazini
Broken glass still echoes in his heart as broken mirrors, Heart that once danced love and fear... And thus all puppets sing the song that hurt the puppeteer
2 poezii, 0 proze
Maria Bungău
Nsscuta pe 6 martie 1987. In prezent studenta in anul I la Facultatea de Litere din Brasov. Si cum zice Fernando Pessoa "If, after I die, they should want to write my biography, There's nothing simpler. I've just two dates - of my birth, and of my death. In between the one thing and the other all the days are mine. "
1 poezii, 0 proze
Lorraine Ellis Harr
Lorraine Ellis Harr was one of the important figures in the history of American haiku. She lived in Portland, Oregon, where for almost four decades she worked tirelessly to promote the understanding of the haiku form and to encourage the reading and writing of haiku in English through the publication of a quarterly journal, Dragonfly, the organization, Western World Haiku Society and the fifteen books of her own poems in all the Japanese genres . Internationally known poet and editor, Kazuo Sato once commented that if Lorraine Ellis Harr lived in Japan, she would be a national treasure. Opal Lorraine Ellis Harr was born on Halloween, October 31, 1912, in Sullivan, Illinois. Her father left the family when she was three years old. The mother and three girls (Lorraine is the youngest) moved to Cooperstown, North Dakota to live for several years before moving to Portland. Her mother had a sister who lived there. The sister's husband promised Lorraine's mother a job if they moved to...
4 poezii, 0 proze
Laura Cherecheș
I was told I was born, without my consent, on the 3rd of August 1976. I got all the necessary childhood diseases and diplomas in order to further attend and graduate The Faculty of Letters, History and Theology (University of the West Timisoara) and become a teacher. I haven't published anything. Poetry is a way of exercising both the brain and the heart, just my way of keeping fit :) I love spring, chocolate, dogs, stones, children, nature, kind hearts, Dire Straits, Chris Rea and many other things. One thing I believe in: impossible is nothing. anastasia365@yahoo.com http://anastasia333.blogspot.com/
48 poezii, 0 proze
Renée Vivien
Renée Vivien, born Pauline Mary Tarn (11 June 1877 - 18 November 1909) was a British poet who wrote in the French language.[1][2] She took to heart all the mannerisms of Symbolism, as one of the last poets to claim allegiance to the school. Her compositions include sonnets, hendecasyllabic verse, and prose poetry. Vivien was born in London, England to a wealthy British father and an American mother from Jackson, Michigan. She grew up in Paris and London. Upon inheriting her father's fortune at 21, she emigrated permanently to France. In Paris, Vivien's dress and lifestyle were as notorious among the bohemian set as was her verse. She lived lavishly, as an open lesbian, and carried on a well-known affair with American heiress and writer Natalie Clifford Barney. She also harbored a lifelong obsession with her closest childhood friend and neighbor, Violet Shillito – a relationship that remained unconsummated. In 1900 Vivien abandoned this chaste love, when the great romance with Natalie...
17 poezii, 0 proze
James JOYCE
James Joyce (1882-1941), Irish novelist, noted for his experimental use of language in such works as Ulysses (1922) and Finneganns Wake (1939). Joyce\'s technical innovations in the art of the novel include an extensive use of interior monologue; he used a complex network of symbolic parallels drawn from the mythology, history, and literature, and created a unique language of invented words, puns, and allusions. James Joyce was born in Dublin, on February 2, 1882, as the son of John Stanislaus Joyce, an impoverished gentleman, who had failed in a distillery business and tried all kinds of professions, including politics and tax collecting. Joyce\'s mother, Mary Jane Murray, was ten years younger than her husband. She was an accomplished pianist, whose life was dominated by the Roman Catholic Church. In spite of their poverty, the family struggled to maintain a solid middle-class facade. From the age of six Joyce, was educated by Jesuits at Clongowes Wood College, at Clane, and then at...
17 poezii, 0 proze
The Seafarer
de Ezra Pound
May I for my own self song\'s truth reckon, Journey\'s jargon, how I in harsh days Hardship endured oft. Bitter breast-cares have I abided, Known on my keel many a care\'s hold, And dire sea-surge,...
The Mountain
de Robert Frost
The mountain held the town as in a shadow. I saw so much before I slept there once: I noticed that I missed stars in the west, Where its black body cut into the sky. Near me it seemed: I felt it like...
Ash Wednesday
de T.S. Eliot
I Because I do not hope to turn again Because I do not hope Because I do not hope to turn Desiring this man\'s gift and that man\'s scope I no longer strive to strive towards such things (Why should...
The Hollow Men
de T.S. Eliot
I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats\'...
Venus and Adonis
de William Shakespeare
\'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.\' To the Right Honourable Henry Wríothestly, EARL OF SOUTHAMPTON, AND BARON OF TICHFIELD. RIGHT HONOURABLE, I know not...
The Grey Monk
de William Blake
`I die, I die!\' the Mother said, `My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless tyrant said?\' The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk\'s side, His...
Life In A Bottle
de Robert Browning
Escape me? Never-- Beloved! While I am I, and you are you, So long as the world contains us both, Me the loving and you the loth, While the one eludes, must the other pursue. My life is a fault at...
The Witch of Coos
de Robert Frost
I staid the night for shelter at a farm Behind the mountains, with a mother and son, Two old-believers. They did all the talking. MOTHER Folks think a witch who has familiar spirits She could call up...
Postcard to The Past
de Ohm
The past... Wow, what can I say. All this soon will fade. All this will simply be fetilizer for the future. The past can\\\\\\\'t help but cry, and die... drowning in its own tears (and sometimes its...
The Need of Being Versed in Country Things
de Robert Frost
The house had gone to bring again To the midnight sky a sunset glow. Now the chimney was all of the house that stood, Like a pistil after the petals go The barn opposed across the way, That would...
