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Louis McKeeLM

Louis McKee

AutorClasic

Louis McKee (born July 31, 1951, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania) has been a fixture of the Philadelphia poetry scene since the early 70s. He is the author of Schuylkill County (Wampeter, 1982), The True Speed of Things (Slash & Burn, 1984) and eleven other collections. More recently, he has published River Architecture: Poems from Here & There 1973-1993 (Cynic, 1999), Loose Change (Marsh River Editions, 2001) and a volume in the Pudding House Greatest Hits series. Gerald Stern has called his work “heart-breaking” and “necessary,” while William Stafford has written, “Louis McKee makes me think of how much fun it was to put your hand out a car window and make the air carry you into quick adventures and curlicues. He is so adept at turning all kinds of sudden glimpses into good patterns.” Naomi Shihab Nye says, “Louis McKee is one of the truest hearts and voices in poetry we will ever be lucky to know.” Near Occasions of Sin, a collection issued in 2006 by Cynic Press, has been praised by...

2 poezii, 0 proze

Mircea BraslasuMB

Mircea Braslasu

AutorAtelier

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

Mellin de Saint-GelaisMS

Mellin de Saint-Gelais

AutorClasic

Mellin de Saint-Gelais (1490-1558), poet francez renascentist. *** Mellin de Saint-Gelais (or Melin de Saint-Gelays or Sainct-Gelais; c. 1491 – October, 1558) was a French poet of the Renaissance and Poet Laureate of Francis I of France. He was born at Angoulême, most likely the natural son of Jean de Saint-Gelais, marquis de Montlieu, a member of the Angoumois gentry. His forename was the French-Norman malapropism of the British wizard Merlin featured in Arthurian legends. He was close to his uncle Octavien de Saint-Gelais (1466-1502), bishop of Angoulême since 1494, himself a poet who had translated the Aeneid into French. Mellin, who had studied at Bologna and Padua, had the reputation of being doctor, astrologer and musician as well as poet. He returned to France around 1523, and soon gained favour at the court of the art-loving Valois ruler Francis I by his skill in light verse. He was made almoner to the Dauphin, abbot of Reclus in the diocese of Troyes and librarian...

1 poezii, 0 proze

Donatien Alphonse François, marquis de SadeDS

Donatien Alphonse François, marquis de Sade

AutorClasic

Donatien Alphonse François, marquis de Sade, né le 2 juin 1740 à Paris et mort le 2 décembre 1814 à l'asile de Charenton, est un écrivain et un philosophe français, longtemps voué à l’anathème en raison de la part accordée dans son œuvre à un érotisme de la violence et de la cruauté (fustigations, tortures, incestes, viols, sodomie, etc). Le néologisme « sadisme », formé d’après son nom, est apparu dès 1834 dans le Dictionnaire universel de Boiste comme « aberration épouvantable de la débauche : système monstrueux et antisocial qui révolte la nature ». C’est Krafft-Ebing, médecin allemand, qui a donné à la fin du XIXe siècle un statut scientifique au mot sadisme, comme antonyme de masochisme pour désigner une perversion sexuelle dans laquelle la satisfaction est liée à la souffrance ou à l’humiliation infligée à autrui. Occultée et clandestine pendant tout le XIXe siècle, son œuvre littéraire est réhabilitée au XXe siècle, malgré une censure officielle qui dure jusqu’en 1960, la...

4 poezii, 0 proze

Robert SilverbergRS

Robert Silverberg

AutorClasic

Robert Silverberg (born January 15, 1935 in Brooklyn, NY) is a prolific author best known for writing science fiction, a multiple winner of both the Hugo and Nebula Awards. Silverberg, a voracious reader from childhood on, began submitting stories to the science fiction magazines in his early teenage years. He attended Columbia University, receiving an A.B. in English Literature in 1956, but he kept writing science fiction. His first published novel, a children's book called Revolt on Alpha C appeared in 1955, and in the following year, he won his first Hugo, as "best new writer." For the next four years, by his own count, he wrote a million words a year, for magazines and Ace Doubles. In 1959 the market for science fiction collapsed, and Silverberg turned his ability to write copiously to other fields, from carefully researched historical nonfiction to softcore porn for Nightstand Books. In the mid-1960s science fiction writers were starting to be more literarily ambitious, and...

0 poezii, 0 proze

CA

cont blocat pentru abuzuri

AutorAtelier

Nascut in 1973 Liber intreprinzator din 2000 Debutant

1 poezii, 0 proze

sterge contSC

sterge cont

AutorAtelier

3 poezii, 0 proze

RC

renunt la cont

AutorAtelier

7 poezii, 0 proze

Va rog sa stergeti acest cont.VC

Va rog sa stergeti acest cont.

AutorAtelier

2 poezii, 0 proze

va rog sa stergeti acest contVC

va rog sa stergeti acest cont

AutorAtelier

va rog sa stergeti acest cont

22 poezii, 0 proze

The Axe Helve

de Robert Frost

I\'ve known ere now an interfering branch Of alder catch my lifted axe behind me. But that was in the woods, to hold my hand From striking at another alder\'s roots, And that was, as I say, an alder...

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The Apocalyptic Subculture of a Woman\'s Man

de Ohm

Where can I begin? Where will it end? Well, either in the year 2003 or the year 2006, most likely the latter. The remaining timeline grows thinner as the world grows fatter. It doesn\'t matter,...

Atelier

A Thousand Kisses Deep

de Leonard Cohen

You came to me this morning and you handled me like meat. You\'d have to be a man to know how good that feels, how sweet. My mirrored twin, my next of kin, I\'d know you in my sleep and who but you...

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The Passionate Pilgrim

de William Shakespeare

I. WHEN my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies, That she might think me some untutor\'d youth, Unskilful in the world\'s false forgeries. Thus vainly...

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Hamlet

de William Shakespeare

HAMLET DRAMATIS PERSONAE (PAGINA 5) ACT III SCENE I A room in the castle. [Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN] KING CLAUDIUS And can you, by no...

Clasic

Christabel

de Samuel Taylor Coleridge

PART I \'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock, And the owls have awakened the crowing cock ; Tu--whit !-- -- Tu--whoo ! And hark, again ! the crowing cock, How drowsily it crew. Sir Leoline,...

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A lover\'s complaint

de William Shakespeare

FROM off a hill whose concave womb re-worded A plaintful story from a sistering vale, My spirits to attend this double voice accorded, And down I laid to list the sad-tun\'d tale; Ere long espied a...

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To hope

de John Keats

When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my \"mind\'s eye\" flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal...

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PARADISE LOST -- Book X

de John Milton

Book X Mean while the heinous and despiteful act Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve, Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit, Was known in Heaven; for what...

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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...

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