"On waves" – 7016 rezultate
0.02 secundeMeilisearchDylan Thomas
Dylan Marlais Thomas was born on October 27, 1914 in Swansea, Glamorganshire (Wales). He was educated at Swansea Grammar School and became well-known for his obscure poetry and amusing plays and prose. Before the publishing of Thomas' first book in 1934, he worked as a reporter for The South Wales Daily Post, in Swansea, (1931-1932) and as a free-lance writer from 1933. "18 Poems", Thomas' first book, was published as the result of a prize. Thomas was only 19 when this volume of poetry was released. He wrote nearly 30 poems in late 1933 and early 1934, of which 13 were published in this volume. Between May and October 1934, he completed another five for inclusion in the book. The Thomas' poems first appeared in the Sunday Referee in 1933 in a feature column called the "Poets' Corner," edited by Victor Neuburg and Runia Sheila MacLeod. Neuburg began to award prizes to poets whose work was judged to be the finest printed in the column over a period of six months. The prize was that the...
28 poezii, 0 proze
SHSelima Hill
Poet Selima Hill was born on 13 October 1945 in London, England and grew up in rural England and Wales. She read Moral Sciences at New Hall, Cambridge (1965-7). She regularly collaborates with artists and has worked on multimedia projects with the Royal Ballet, Welsh National Opera and BBC Bristol. She is a tutor at the Poetry School in London, and has taught creative writing in hospitals and prisons. Selima Hill won first prize in the 1988 Arvon Foundation/Observer International Poetry Competition for her long poem The Accumulation of Small Acts of Kindness, and her 1997 collection, Violet, was shortlisted for the Forward Poetry Prize (Best Poetry Collection of the Year), the T. S. Eliot Prize and the Whitbread Poetry Award. Her book of poetry, Bunny (2001), a series of poems about a young girl growing up in the 1950s, won the Whitbread Poetry Award. Selima Hill lives in Dorset. Her most recent book of poetry is The Hat (2008).
5 poezii, 0 proze
DMdan 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
JTJames Thurber
Born: 8 December 1894 Birthplace: Columbus, Ohio Death: 2 November 1961 (complications from a stroke) Best Known As: Author of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty Thurber\'s witty short stories and lumpy cartoons were a popular mainstay of The New Yorker magazine in the 1930s and 1940s. A Midwestern boy with an urbane twist, Thurber mixed comical reminiscences of his Ohio childhood with wry observations on modern times and the battle of the sexes. (His best-known story is The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, the tale of a henpecked husband who escapes into heroic daydreams.) Thurber\'s funny, loopy, absurdist cartoons featured men, women, dogs and other strange animals. He was by turns hilarious and melancholy, and his darker nature seemed to come out in stories and cartoons about husbands and wives: the wives often domineering and sarcastic, the husbands harried or bitterly triumphant. Like Mark Twain, Thurber became increasingly morose in his last decade, although he continued to write...
1 poezii, 0 proze
DADead on Arrival
6 poezii, 0 proze
BRbarbu roxana-maria
am vazut lumina zilei pe 21 iunie 1990,in orasul bacau,dar ,am avut norocul de a-mi petrece primii ani ai copilariei intr-o lume de vis,intr-un sat linistit,aflat pe malul stang al dunarii ,un sat cu oameni cuminti,si cu frica de Dumnezeu.am scris inca de mica,si aveam satisfactia de a-mi fi ascultate poeziile.dupa cum era obiceiul prin acele locuri,ieseam seara dupa o zi lunga si obositoare,cu totii ,la poarta.femeile,unele coseau,altele torceau lana sau impleteau,in timp ce barbatii curatau porumb sau alte mestesuguri ce le voi mentiona in alte imprejurari; eu,nefiind prea multi copii pe-acolo,aveam de fiecare data privilegiu de a fi in centrul atentii,si astfel imi erau ascultate poziile.dupa ce am mai crescut ,nu am mai avut la tara timp de scris,fiind programul mult prea incarcat,dimineata la trei plecam la camp,si ne intorceam o data cu soarele ce se lasa peste sat.dar asta nu m-a impiedicat sa adun impresii si sa memorez imagini de o tulburatoare frumusete si...
4 poezii, 0 proze
AGAdrian Gologan
born on the 5th of November in Otelu Rosu, Romania, emigrated since 1996 to Germany
23 poezii, 0 proze
MCMiriam Cihodariu
Born on December 11th 1985. First published during high school, since then having received multiple national awards for 2 volumes of poetry (published in 2003) and one published play (The fourth state of aggregation, 2004). Bachelor and Master's degree in Sociology/Anthropology. Currently working on a PhD in the same field. ------------------------------------------------------- Nascuta pe 11 decembrie 1985. Olimpica la matematica si fizica in clasele 4-9. Debuteaza cu poezie in revista "13 Plus" din Bacau in clasa a 10 a. Absolventa de Sociologie in cadrul Universitatii Bucuresti si de un master in cadrul aceleiasi institutii. In prezent doctorand in sociologie/antropologie. Publicatii: Volumele de versuri "Uite un suflet!" si "Antidotul" in 2003, o piesa de teatru in romana si in engleza, numita "A patra stare de agregare" publicata in ianuarie 2004, la editura Universitatii din Iasi. Premii nationale: - de poezie - "Tinere Condeie", "Dintre sute de catarge", "Junior", premiul...
111 poezii, 0 proze
Elisabeta
irrelevant on the daily basis
1 poezii, 0 proze
nelu lasa
later on
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you\'re all so far away..
de oana stanescu
I sit here and I think about you..about everything.. about everything being so simple and yet so complicated.. about the sky..the sea..the rain.. I wish I would drown in the sea fall from the sky...
Description
de Vlad Fratila
No tomorrow No troubles on your shoulders That I know about Hidden between the layers Of silence That you built. Deep beneath the waves That compose my mind. Untouchable. No yesterday No flash behind...
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...
Sonnet LX
de William Shakespeare
Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore, So do our minutes hasten to their end; Each changing place with that which goes before, In sequent toil all forwards do contend. Nativity, once in...
Liquid Dreams
de Coana Loenida
With ease I become lost in your dreams easing into deep sleep on calm waters feeling surrounded by liquid desire for me I swim in your decadent luxury, Warm sea engulfs me I drown, losing my breath...
Pull the plug off
de Andrei Dumitrescu
Pull the plug of the stereo, Let\'s listen to the absence of the music on some quiet bench on the forgotten streets of Borneo, Going round our brains and taking place as bleeding symposiums into our...
Ghost
de Alin Niculae
\"...and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted Nevermore.\" on a sweet scented summer day with the ashes falling from the sky the ashes he once loved for they...
Haiku și tanka
de Marian Nicolae TOMI
* ceaiul dă în foc - the tea is boiling - cu ochii pierduți pe câmp the eyes lost on the field închizând geamul closing the window * privind un lemn uscat – looking at a dry log - înflorind fără...
IReverSYBIL
de dorinMOLDOVEANU
FADE IN: INT. EMPTY ROOM: Nothing happens for about 10 minutes. INT. SAME ROOM, BUT NOW IS DECORATED WITH OLD NAKED MALES ON BEDS: UGLY OLD MALE: I always thought of my mum as a good woman. VERY UGLY...
The Quiet Night of May
de bayar
I’m all alone in a quiet night of May... and count the hours But I realize it’s strange I’ve never stopped to smell the flowers I never dared to open my eyes And see pure perfection In the simplest...