"it\'s all about love" – 4500 rezultate
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AAAbdul al-Hazred
Abdul Alhazred is a fictional character created by American horror writer H. P. Lovecraft. He is the so-called "Mad Arab" credited with authoring the imaginary book Kitab al-Azif (the Necronomicon), and as such an integral part of Cthulhu Mythos lore. Despite the existence of several hoax Necronomicons, it is clear that neither Alhazred nor his book ever existed. The name Abdul Alhazred is a pseudonym that Lovecraft created in his youth, which he took on after reading 1001 Arabian Nights at the age of about five years. The name was invented either by Lovecraft, or by Albert Baker, the Phillips family lawyer. Abdul is a common Arabic name component (but never a name by itself; additionally the ending -ul and the beginning Al- are redundant), but Alhazred may allude to Hazard, a name from Lovecraft's family tree. It might also have been a pun on "all-has-read", since Lovecraft was an avid reader in youth. Abdul Alhazred is not a real Arabic name, and seems to contain the Arabic definite...
1 poezii, 0 proze
JKJohn Keats
John Keats was born on 31 October 1795 (probably), first child of Thomas Keats and Frances Jennings Keats, who had apparently eloped1. Everything was pretty ordinary for all concerned for a while--the Keatses had three more sons (George and Thomas, plus Edward who died as a baby) and one daughter, Frances, by 1803. That was also the year when John went away to school at Enfield. In 1804, John\'s father was killed in a fall from a horse. Just over two months later, for mysterious reasons, Frances remarried, to a London bank clerk named William Rawlings. Frances quickly decided she\'d made some sort of terrible error and left, taking nothing with her since the laws of the time decreed that all her property and even her children belonged to her husband. Frances\' mother, Alice, swept in and took custody of the children, but she could do nothing about the Swan and Hoop, which Rawlings sold immediately before disappearing. It was around this time that John became prone to fistfights, which...
32 poezii, 0 proze
John Steinbeck
John Steinbeck (1902-1968), born in Salinas, California, came from a family of moderate means. He worked his way through college at Stanford University but never graduated. In 1925 he went to New York, where he tried for a few years to establish himself as a free-lance writer, but he failed and returned to California. After publishing some novels and short stories, Steinbeck first became widely known with Tortilla Flat (1935), a series of humorous stories about Monterey paisanos. Steinbeck's novels can all be classified as social novels dealing with the economic problems of rural labour, but there is also a streak of worship of the soil in his books, which does not always agree with his matter-of-fact sociological approach. After the rough and earthy humour of Tortilla Flat, he moved on to more serious fiction, often aggressive in its social criticism, to In Dubious Battle (1936), which deals with the strikes of the migratory fruit pickers on California plantations. This was followed...
4 poezii, 0 proze
John Willy Kopperud
It\'s All Over Now, Baby Blue Bob Dylan You must leave now, take what you need, you think will last. But whatever you wish to keep, you better grab it fast. Yonder stands your orphan with his gun, Crying like a fire in the sun. Look out the saints are comin\' through And it\'s all over now, Baby Blue. The highway is for gamblers, better use your sense. Take what you have gathered from coincidence. The empty-handed painter from your streets Is drawing crazy patterns on your sheets. This sky, too, is folding under you And it\'s all over now, Baby Blue. All your seasick sailors, they are rowing home. All your reindeer armies, are all going home. The lover who just walked out your door Has taken all his blankets from the floor. The carpet, too, is moving under you And it\'s all over now, Baby Blue. Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you. Forget the dead you\'ve left, they will not follow you. The vagabond who\'s rapping at your door Is standing in the clothes that you...
0 poezii, 0 proze
Igor Ursenco
CURRICULUM VITAE(Epekeina tes ousias: "beyond the being" Plato)) It's my thirst which concedes that there is water... Irrigated, my soul awakes forth: I'm surviving my nigts,for I taper this body worth... I exceed all my fates.I should figth her wasted battles, anxious to allot penitences of Eva & wagger fleengs of Loth... Who I am? Could she know? Yet I master her thougts - trespassing my bounds - remote... May I be her breath, confined by - rather - things she sais me not..?
2 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
VVVeronica Văleanu
All expression of energy in this universe must end where it began. Walter Russell I am a survivivore. And for a survivivore, its predatory condition is strictly related to consuming its own survivals. Born - every time I was signalled to. Married, two children. Printer.s Devil Review, vol.2, no.2 Chicago Poetry Review, Poetry Cram 14, Journal of Modern Poetry Randomly Accessed Poetics World Poetry Reading Series, Featured Poets Ygdrasil, A Journal of the Poetic Arts, vol.XXII, issue 3 ...as I said: Nobody can live real poetry. You have to survive it.
185 poezii, 0 proze
Duca Horia
So why did I do it? I could offer a million answers, all false. The truth is that I'm a bad person, but that's gonna change. I'm going to change. This is the last of that sort of thing. I'm cleaning up and I'm moving on. Going straight and choosing life. I'm looking forward to it already. I'm going to be just like you. The job, the family, the fucking big television, the washing machine, the car, the compact disc, and electrical tin opener, good health, low cholesterol, dental insurance, mortgage, starter home, leisurewear, luggage, three-piece suite, D.I.Y., game shows, junk food, children, walks in the park, 9:00 to 5:00, good at golf, washing the car,choice of sweaters, family Christmas, indexed pension, tax exemption, clearing gutters, getting by,looking ahead to the day you die.
1 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
Thomas Moore
Thomas Moore (1779-1852) Irish poet, friend of Lord Byron and P.B. Shelley. Moore\'s writings range from lyric to satire, from prose romance to history and biography. His popular IRISH MELODIES appeared in ten parts between 1807 and 1835. Moore was a good musician and skillful writer of songs, which he set to Irish tunes, mainly of the 18th century. \'Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone. (from \'The Last Rose of Summer\') } Thomas Moore was born in Dublin as the son of a grocer. His background was poor and he never varnished it. In his poem \'Epitaph on a Tuft-Hunter\' he mocked snobbery: \"Heaven grant him now some noble nook / For, rest his soul! he\'d rather be / Genteelly damn\'d beside a Duke, / Than sav\'d in vulgar company.\" Moore studied at Trinity College, Dublin and London, and published his first book, THE POETICAL WORKS OF THOMAS LITTLE, in 1801. He became in 1803 a civil officer to Bermuda, where he stayed for a...
2 poezii, 0 proze
it\'s all about love
de Mirela Lungu
te-aș fi putut iubi goală de prejudecăți cu formele pline de îndoiala că tu vei pleca a doua zi dimineață în state mă privești și îmi spui că am ochii frumoși dar rictusul buzelor trădează ipocrizia...
You make me feel...
de Cristina
You make me feel Like love is real But when you\'re not here I realize it\'s not. I need you to lead me In this cold dark world, I need you to teach me All about love. Is love just a game All about...
Interview with Enrique Iglesias
de A.M. Rika
Enrique Iglesias reaches for the stars with his feet on the ground Enrique Iglesias is the boy next door, someone who grew up doing things quietly, but effectively. Dreaming of becoming a pop star...
la camera de gardă (3)
de Petru Teodor
Scriu la granița de după. Fără putință de-a te ascunde într-o carcasă, fără putință de tăgadă... Pielea ta e un blestem, neputințele tale sunt un blestem, moartea este înscrisă între dalele de...
(The ugly) Miracle
de Da
Every knife that stabs a back and makes you feel you`re not a wreck It's a miracle All our creations great and small Crappy streets and blocks that fall That's a miracle Half-drunk babies being born...
Oana’s not here
de Florin DeRoxas
Oana’s not here, Oana is gone, Oana’s my sweetheart for long time, and I don’t know what should be done, because she still hurts my heart; she’s one of us who never gives back no matter what we do....
Me, myself and you
de Florin DeRoxas
it’s the same story, the morning glory, and all I dream, voice from above, song about love, and world beneath. no one by my side, no honor or pride, just pure thoughts, dreams of you, a hope, and all...
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...
The Self-Seeker
de Robert Frost
Willis, I didn\'t want you here to-day: The lawyer\'s coming for the company. I\'m going to sell my soul, or, rather, feet. Five hundred dollars for the pair, you know.\" \"With you the feet have...
night of new years eve
de kim
Night of new years eve stars are blinking like talking to eachother smiling about this lovely night this dark blue glimmering valley lighted by all the white little houselights silents is surrounding...