"I met my idols: Son of Sam and Charles" – 21105 rezultate
0.01 secundeMeilisearchBebeisme-şi-şosete
Bebeismul este definit ca lingușeală și gângureală
de sophie polansky
opinii_articole_interviuri
Opinii, articole ?i interviuri
de Adina Ungur
Radu Contes
The beginning of my childhood was profoundly marked by one of my grandfather’s passions – literature. For him reading, living, the writings of so many did not seem to be enough, so he began writing his own stories that still echo in my memory and in my heart. I remember that one day I went to him and asked “What are you writing about?”. Looking at me for only a second and returning his eyes at the ink stained notebook he answered: “My life”. Regretful, I confess that that was the last dialogue we had. After that I began reading, reading everything he was writing. Two years after his death, I had met someone who changed everything. I stopped reading and began writing myself. It was such a new feeling. It seemed to be never ending. It still feels. Since the first time, you may think I am exaggerating, but it really was the first time I saw her when I felt this sudden urge of writing. Words like “Thank you” seem meaningless compared to the things that you have done for me.
2 poezii, 0 proze
POP. D. Ouspensky
Peter D. Ouspensky (March 4, 1878–October 2, 1947), (Pyotr Demianovich Ouspenskii, also Uspenskii or Uspensky, Пётр Демья́нович Успе́нский), a Russian esotericist known for his expositions of the early work of the Greek-Armenian teacher of esoteric doctrine George Gurdjieff, whom he met in Moscow in 1915. He was associated with the ideas and practices originating with Gurdjieff from then on. In 1924, he separated from Gurdjieff personally, and some, including Rodney Collin among others, say that he finally gave up the (Gurdjieff) "system" that he had shared with people for 25 years in England and the United States, but his own recorded words on the subject ("A Record of Meetings," published posthumously) do not clearly endorse this judgement nor does Ouspensky's emphasis on "you must make a new beginning" after confessing "I've left the...
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I
4 poezii, 0 proze
I. M. Rascu
10 poezii, 0 proze
I. Heliade Radulescu
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IJI. V. John
N-am.
3 poezii, 0 proze
i c
am 18 ani shi sunt in kl.11-a..alte momente marcante- am terminat shkoala de piktura, iar akum incerk sa skriu...
1 poezii, 0 proze
I.O. Suceveanu
I.O. Suceveanu, pe numele său adevărat Ion Olaru (n. 12 februarie 1905, satul Baineț, județul Suceava - d. 30 septembrie 1960, Sibiu) a fost un poet român. Biografie I.O. Suceveanu s-a născut la data de 12 februarie 1905, în satul Baineț (aflat astăzi în județul Suceava), din părinții Onofrei și Marina Olaru și a primit la naștere numele de Ion. A absolvit cursurile Școlii Tehnice Aeronautice (1921-1925), după care a predat ca profesor la Școala de meserii din satul Racovița (județul Olt). A lucrat ca maistru militar și telegrafist până în anul 1945, când a fost trecut în rezervă. Este angajat, apoi, ca tehnician la Întreprinderea Regională de Electricitate Sibiu. A încetat din viață la data de 30 septembrie 1960, în orașul Sibiu. Ion Olaru s-a remarcat ca poet, scriind sub pseudonimul I.O. Suceveanu. A debutat în revista "Ramuri" din Mediaș în anul 1933. De-a lungul vremii, a colaborat la diverse publicații literare și a editat revista "Darul" (1935-1936). În anul 1942 a primit...
1 poezii, 0 proze
I S
1 poezii, 0 proze
R.I.M.
autobiografia nu rezolva nimic
6 poezii, 0 proze
I Left A Woman Waiting
de Leonard Cohen
I left a woman waiting I met her sometime later She said, I see your eyes are dead What happened to you, lover? What happened to you, my lover? What happened to you, lover? What happened to you? And...
My favourite game
de Miruna Gavriliu
Breathe in Breathe out - one lung in the sky, and the other buried deep underground nurturing fiery blossom earthquakes even if I cannot get back in time I know I shouldn’t be smoking Let me pour...
Teachers
de Leonard Cohen
I met a woman long ago her hair the black that black can go, Are you a teacher of the heart? Soft she answered no. I met a girl across the sea, her hair the gold that gold can be, Are you a teacher...
WALKING IN LIGHT
de Floriana Pachia
I first halted on the riverbank staring before and behind at the myriad signs sprung like grass blades along the walks of life I left behind a harbor a sunny seashore and people up and about renting...
A happy/unhappy event
de Adrian Arvunescu
It was a beautiful day when I met Traian on a cargo ship to Afghanistan. We both were illegal immigrants seeking a better life. I forgot to mention that I m from Papua, where big people eat little...
Nothing else really matters
de Florin DeRoxas
Nothing really matters now ‘Cause I’m in love with you, I just want to show you love, My love,...my love so true. Nothing really matters when You feel you’re being loved, When is somebody next to you...
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...
A Night in July
de Tiberiu Szabo
A Night In July By Tiberiu Szabo The night was dark And full of stars, Full of light The sky was filled, It was the night of a summers dream. The aromatic smell of Summer flowers was in the air And...