"heart shaped glasses" – 1246 rezultate
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ODOriah Mountain Dreamer
Oriah Mountain Dreamer is the author of the inspirational prose-poem and international best-selling books, The Invitation (now translated into over fifteen languages), The Dance and The Call: Discovering Why You Are Here . Her writing explores how to follow the thread of our deepest heart\'s longing into a life of meaning and purpose. Her latest book, What We Ache For: Creativity and the Unfolding of Your Soul, (Harper San Francisco, April 2005) offers reflections on and practical guidelines for finding and cultivating creative work that is not separated from your spirituality, your direct experience of that which is both what you are and larger than yourself, or your sexuality, the fire and sensuality of life lived in the physical world. Oriah has shared her insights and stories with audiences throughout the world at conferences and retreats and through radio and TV appearances (CBC, TVO, Oprah, NPR, PBS, Wisdom Network.) Blending ruthless honesty, humour, insight and compassion for...
0 poezii, 0 proze
RTRobert Tofan
Data nastere: 13 August 1981 e-mail: (tofan.robert@yahoo.de) On every street in every city, there's a nobody who dreams of being a somebody. He's a lonely forgotten man desperate to prove that he's alive.
16 poezii, 0 proze
RRrusoiu raluca
Textele mele...sa ma gandesc ...ce pot sa spun despre ele?!Sunt cuvinte rupte din suflet,scrise in urma unei lovituri demonice.Cicatrice am inca si azi...tot ce am scris am simtit pana in adancul sufletului,am trait pana in adncul maduvii si am gandit ...poate... pana in adancul neuronului.Acestea reprezinta "Moartea unui inger" dupa cum am si o proza, trecerea d la speranta la deznadejde,suferinta, dezamagire, si, in sfarsit, la moarte.Poate suna prea dur moarte, dar nu ma refer la moartea trupeasca, ci la cea sufleteasca, ceea ce este si ma dur.Poeziile mele sunt lopeti d pamant puse una peste alta pentru a-mi ingropa viata.Prin poeziile mele si proze sper ca lumea sa invete ceva din ele si sa nu faca aceleasi greseli ca acele "personeje lirice".Totul incepe frumos, la inceput cuvinte frumase, inaltatoare, dar treptat, treptat duc spre morminte , demoni, iad etc.Insa in spatele acestor cuvinte se afla cel mai amar sentimet-dragostea.Ce a fost dragostea pentru mine?!moartea ingerului...
60 poezii, 0 proze
GKGabriel J. Khazini
Broken glass still echoes in his heart as broken mirrors, Heart that once danced love and fear... And thus all puppets sing the song that hurt the puppeteer
2 poezii, 0 proze
Mantra Shirokuro
I'm just my ego's coma... my heart's deep poison It's just a waiste of time Waiting for your love poem..
2 poezii, 0 proze
Ovidiu Tarau
There's no rain...the raindrops are God's tears for mankind forgot how to love with all the heart...
2 poezii, 0 proze
AAmara
"Poet divin, lumina fara moarte m-ajute-n grai iubirea-n veci fierbinte cu care pururi ti-am citit din carte" Infernul - Dante Alighieri This is me for forever One of the lost ones The one without a name Without an honest heart as compass This is me for forever One without a name These lines the last endeavor To find the missing lifeline Nemo - Nightwish Last dance, first kiss Your touch my bliss Beauty always comes with dark thoughts I wish... Wish I had an Angel - Nightwish
4 poezii, 0 proze
RVRenée Vivien
Renée Vivien, born Pauline Mary Tarn (11 June 1877 - 18 November 1909) was a British poet who wrote in the French language.[1][2] She took to heart all the mannerisms of Symbolism, as one of the last poets to claim allegiance to the school. Her compositions include sonnets, hendecasyllabic verse, and prose poetry. Vivien was born in London, England to a wealthy British father and an American mother from Jackson, Michigan. She grew up in Paris and London. Upon inheriting her father's fortune at 21, she emigrated permanently to France. In Paris, Vivien's dress and lifestyle were as notorious among the bohemian set as was her verse. She lived lavishly, as an open lesbian, and carried on a well-known affair with American heiress and writer Natalie Clifford Barney. She also harbored a lifelong obsession with her closest childhood friend and neighbor, Violet Shillito – a relationship that remained unconsummated. In 1900 Vivien abandoned this chaste love, when the great romance with Natalie...
17 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
Adam Drucker
The power of word and a child\'s imagination walk their way through Doseone\'s works creating music described by Urb as \"so indelible you may have to physically turn it off and take a breather.\" From his sought after release \'Hemispheres\' to his poetic soundscape \'Slow Death\', his releases have overflowed with such style that it prompted one reviewer to dub him \"an artist who may turn out to be one of our generation\'s most important.\" One of hiphop\'s most prolific artists, he is the driving force behind Themselves, Deep Puddle Dynamics, cLOUDDEAD, and Greenthink and has provided guest vocals for a slew of other notable releases. From an east coast birth, to a midwest education, and now a westcoast lease, its full circle and all heart. \"Some kids just gotta be different, and some kids just gotta be Doseone.\" - Vice
1 poezii, 0 proze
heart shaped glasses
de emilian valeriu pal
nemîncat de patru zile. mda. dacă aș avea un playlist ar fi o singură piesa: i feel good. nici măcar nu mă doare așa de tare încît să cad decent pe stradă de beat ce sînt. la o adică ce? taică-su a...
everybody put on your heart-shaped glasses
de Ada Stanescu
copilul 1 pe care probabil îl chema Paul, s-a apropiat sfios de copilul 2, pe care erau mari șanse să o cheme Andreea. Andreea își frământa cuminte fustica uitându-se la el, când la pardoseală, când...
acel nenorocit meci de handbal
de emilian valeriu pal
țeasta lovește parchetul un sunet ca de fereastră spartă realizezi în timp ce totul se-nvîrte că mai aproape de tine ca acum de pămînt nu vei fi niciodată. pe undeva o fisură gîndurile ies ca într-un...
downtown jesus
de emilian valeriu pal
changes Sunt redus la cea mai simplă expresie a vieții. Respir. Ai crede că e simplu dar și pentru asta lovesc cu pumnii în piept ca într-un televizor stricat. Cel mai important lucru pe care l-am...
story....
de Florea Ana-Maria
Grey! That was the colour that described everything around him:nature,atmosphere,colours....everything... One glance around him and he felt as if the colour entered his soul,never to leave it! He got...
Forever...
de Burloiu Marian
Forever rain...forever pain...forever my heart will go where... Forever lost...forever there...forever near...are you out there? Forever...cold...forever blue...my soul is shattered without you......
Dive
de Miruna Gavriliu
I’ve been allowing myself to hear the crickets grow and the old splendor in the grass sing, or maybe there is an emotional black hole that makes us all break in and fall down a triptych of stairs...
Rose Pogonias
de Robert Frost
A saturated meadow, Sun-shaped and jewel-small, A circle scarcely wider Than the trees around were tall; Where winds were quite excluded, And the air was stifling sweet With the breath of many...
The Final Cut
de Pink Floyd
Through the fish-eyed lens of tear stained eyes I can barely define the shape of this moment in time And far from flying high in clear blue skies I\'m spiralling down to the hole in the ground where...
Sonnet XXIV
de William Shakespeare
Mine eye hath play\'d the painter and hath stell\'d Thy beauty\'s form in table of my heart; My body is the frame wherein \'tis held, And perspective it is the painter\'s art. For through the painter...