"My life. Mother of mine" – 4778 rezultate
0.11 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
Mircea Braslasu
Dedicate these lyrics memory my son Valentin Catalin Brăslașu, the writing about his life from birth (28-10-1981) until death (08-07-2000), but after his death. This describes both his life and my life, but more strongly to the shock of finding veștii that my son died in a tragic car accident at age 18 years 8 months and 10 days shock from which I left with sequelae , traumatized throughout their lives. I am Brăslașu Mircea, born com.Sângeru, jud.Prahova. In 1979, on December 31, I married, from this marriage two children resulted: Valentin-Catalin-Adrian and Gabriel. In 1993 after 14 years of marriage I broke the exclusive fault of the former spouses. In the divorce we have been entrusted to educate and increase a child so-Catalin Valentin (it was 12 years) was heard by the court expressing its desire to remain with me, the fact that the account, and Gabriel (he had 6 years) was given his mother. After he finished vocational school (1999), Catalin's exam at the evening high school,...
19 poezii, 0 proze
René Depestre
René Depestre (born 29 August 1926) is a Haitian poet and communist. He lived in Cuba as an exile from the Duvalier regime for many years and was a founder of the Casa de las Americas publishing house. He is best known for his poetry. The city of Jacmel, his birthplace, is often evoked in his poetry and his novels, in particular Hadriana In All My Dreams (1988). He did his primary studies with the Breton Brothers of Christian Instruction. His father died in 1936 and Rene Depestre left his mother, his two brothers and his two sisters to go live with his maternal grandmother. From 1940 to 1944, he completed his secondary studies at the Pétion college in Port-au-Prince. Étincelles (Sparks), his first collection of poetry, appeared in 1945, prefaced by Edris Saint-Amand. He was only nineteen years old when the work was published. The poems were influenced by the marvelous realism of Alejo Carpentier, who planned a conference on this subject in Haiti in 1942. Depestre created a weekly...
31 poezii, 0 proze
Lorenzo Andreassen
Picture of my life....Jamiroquai " ceea ce castiga ei , pierdem noi" eu sunt ceea ce imi place.... ce iti place .....e un fel de a spune cine esti de fapt. de ex: pe mine ma definesc lucrurile care imi plac imi plac parfumurile.... imi place inceputul zilei....din concediu... imi place porumbul fiert ...sa vad crapaturile din pamantul de la tzara imi place la nebunie sa conduc....in toate sensurile imi placea puiul magic de la "Pui de urs" si tigaie ca la mama acasa la "La mama" si ficatei Lyonezi la "Phellipe" si stridiile cu sos de unt fierbinte si lamaie la " Sir Jack" si bif in sange spalat cu vin rosu , facut de mine.. imi place ca stau langa lac si imi place sa beau un pahar de vin la asfintit gandind ce am de facut in viata imi place sa vad zambetul si bucuria celei careia ii ofer flori imi place sa iubesc imi place cu adevarat sa dansez...si sunt super fericit cand gasesc ritmul in partenera... imi place Kazanzakis Imi plac Jack Daniels si Henri Wintermans imi place sa...
3 poezii, 0 proze
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
Lucretia Aerdo
Blissfull Ignorance Ignis And Feelings Overstimulated Neurons Glamour As Hypocrisy Race Against Time Antarctic Emotions Fall of Angels Is it Life? My Life? EnD.
9 poezii, 0 proze
nicoleta d.
no words are enough to say what I had lived...the words are plane and could not show the beauty that ihave lived...nothing is important to me, but my , myself and I...I could write my life with simple words but the sparkness of the real life could not be seen and felt...so all that I can say is that I live, not only exist...
5 poezii, 0 proze
Nightwish
-'Those who hate me or envy me, I wish them only one thing;to carry for only one day, my life burden!" -"Viata nu se masoara in momentele care iti fac inima sa bata cu putere, ci in momentele care iti taie rasuflarea!" -"Se intampla in viata sa iubesti dar sa fii ranit ... iti iei viata de la capat, vrei sa uiti tot, dar amintirile sunt mereu in inima ta amintindu-ti ca iubirea este cel mai frumos lucru care te poate condamna la suferinta"
2 poezii, 0 proze
Fred Moramarco
Dr. Moramarco is a Professor of English at San Diego State and the Editor of Poetry International, an annual journal of new poetry published there. He is the co-author of Containing Multitudes: Poetry in the United States Since 1950 and Modern American Poetry, and co-editor of Men of Our Time: Male Poetry in Contemporary America. ,,I\'ve devoted a lot of my life to poetry. Reading it, writing it, writing about it. In her wonderful novel, \"Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant,\" Anne Tyler writes, \"There ought to be a whole separate language for truth.\" I think there is such a language--the language of poetry. Poems create the miracle of connecting our inner lives. We live in a world where the language of advertising, commerce, and politics are so filled with falseness, deception, and manipulation, that we have an absolute longing to hear words spoken from the heart, with clarity, precision, and authenticity.``
2 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
Life\'s Turn
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Hamlet
de William Shakespeare
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Hamlet
de William Shakespeare
HAMLET DRAMATIS PERSONAE (PAGINA 8) ACT IV SCENE VI Another room in the castle. [Enter HORATIO and a Servant] HORATIO What are they that would speak with me? Servant Sailors, sir: they say they have...
At the mother's cross A face of an angel of childhood
de Laurențiu Nelu Rădoi
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Under the acacias bathed in dead winter's frost, Driven in the wheel of life by a windy March, The moon rises warm, but it's so far away The too...
