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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...

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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

Iohann Mayer

An emissary of the Queen Christina of Sweden to the khan of the Tartars Islam Giray the 3rd, Iohann Mayer made a journey through Moldavia during May 1651. He was sent to accompany the Tartar messenger who had brought to the queen the letter of the khan that contained proposals of common operation against Poland and he was to hand over to the khan the answer of the queen as well. He passed through The White Citadel for the first time in December 1650 on his way towards Crimea. Now, in the summer of the next year, he was coming back on the same route and was finding again the same boatmen he had used six months earlier, on leaving. One cannot be aware of any other details of his winter journey towards Crimea, no other details about his itinerary through Moldavia he is most likely to have used to make his way to the khan` s court. His journey diary is preceded with the words: These are those that happened and occurred during my journey to Bakhchisaray and during the period I spent there,...

1 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

Carmen Harra

Carmen Harra in her own words: Even as a little girl growing up in Romania, I knew I was different. After a near-death experience at age five, I was able to see things others couldn\'t. Everyone who has had a near-death experience describes the sensation of \"going toward the light.” In this parallel world, extraordinary light energy surrounds you and you see an inexpressibly beautiful light. There is no negativity and no anger or sadness, only love. It is a perfect, glowing world, filled with dazzling insights and pure truth, the way our Creator meant it to be. I\'ve never forgotten the lessons this experience taught me. Why, I wondered, wasn\'t life on Earth like this? This parallel world, which I call the Invisible World, is just as real as the physical world here on Earth. It is even more real because the people there are souls unencumbered by ego, emotions, and attachment to material things. Without these negative distractions, souls exist harmoniously in love, joy, and peace. On...

8 poezii, 0 proze

Daniela Maria Benea

I was born in Cluj-Napoca on the 11th of September 1970. I have learned to read, write and love over there. In 1991 I moved to Brisbane, Australia. I hold a bachelor degree in International Business. Later on I followed a couple of courses in Psychology. I mainly write in Romanian, that's what makes me feel closer to the places I left. However I do write in English, sometimes it feels like the words find me better this way, or maybe it's the other way around. I read many English books, biographies, poetry, etc.

19 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

Mina Loa

"It Suits the Poets Purpose" by RAY REESE writers would have us believe in popular mythology that women are enamored with men of power mock gladiator bluster Portofolio's Corporate corpulent physique when in fact most of the women worth the having are with men who are good with words...

4 poezii, 0 proze

Daniil Harms

\'Daniil Kharms\' was the main, and subsequently the sole, pen-name of Daniil Ivanovich Yuvachov. The son of a St. Petersburg political, religious and literary figure, Daniil was to achieve limited local renown as a Leningrad avant-garde eccentric and a writer of children\'s stories in the 1920s and 30s. Among other pseudonyms, he had employed \'Daniil Dandan\' and \'Kharms-Shardam\'. The predilection for \'Kharms\' is thought to derive from appreciation of the tension between the English words \'charms\' and \'harms\' (plus the German Charme; indeed, there is an actual German surname \'Harms\'), but may also owe something to a similarity in sound to Sherlock Holmes (pronounced \'Kholms\' in Russian), a figure of fascination to Kharms.

44 poezii, 0 proze

Words of poison

de Camil Camil

Cred că m-am trezit din cuvânt..doare..e un cuvânt care m-a făcut să țip, să mă amestec cu necuvântul, să mi te otrăvesc la spatele unei scorburi.

THE GRIFFIN

de Alina Mihai

I took the path of silence and of black night The sunlit world was far behind me The grass swayed gently in the moonlight And trees were tall, and starry sky And yet all these I could not see. On...

Proverbs of Hell

de William Blake

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy. Drive your cart and your plough over the bones of the dead. The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom. Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid...

unclean thoughts

de blue

I look for the right words to tell you nothing, all my ideas are incomplete like any other thing. I look to all I’ve been and WOW! I don’t recognize it! it’s like I’ve been...

Silence

de oana stanescu

I seem to have forgotten that Tomorrow is just another yesterday And that my tears Have already dried out My cry Seems so useless Like begging mercy To a cruel tyrant Who will have his way Anyway And...

Who say words with my mouth

de Jelaluddin Rumi

All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I\'m sure of that, and I intend to end up...

PARADISE LOST -- Book II

de John Milton

Book II High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind, Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, Satan exalted...

Ode to the Book

de Pablo Neruda

When I close a book I open life. I hear faltering cries among harbours. Copper ignots slide down sand-pits to Tocopilla. Night time. Among the islands our ocean throbs with fish, touches the feet,...

PARADISE LOST -- Book I

de John Milton

Book I Of Man\'s first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste Brought death into the World, and all our woe, With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and...