"it\'s all in my head" – 4500 rezultate
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ITIoan Tițian
Prenume: Ioan Nume: Tițian email: maa_eendo@yahoo.com Photo: by Me ... 1 Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? 2 Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? 3 Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod? 4 Or Love in a golden bowl? (by W. Blake) ... I ne'er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet. Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale, a deadly pale. My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked what could I ail My life and all seemed turned to clay. And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away. The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start. They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart. Are flowers the winter's choice Is love's bed always snow She seemed to hear my silent voice Not love appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling place And can...
6 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
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
AFAlan Dean Foster
Born in New York City in 1946, Foster was raised in Los Angeles. After receiving a Bachelor\'s Degree in Political Science and a Master of Fine Arts in Cinema from UCLA (1968, l969) he spent two years as a copywriter for a small Studio City, Calif. advertising and public relations firm. His writing career began when August Derleth bought a long Lovecraftian letter of Foster\'s in 1968 and much to Foster\'s surprise, published it as a short story in Derleth\'s bi-annual magazine The Arkham Collector. Sales of short fiction to other magazines followed. His first attempt at a novel, The Tar-Aiym Krang, was bought by Betty Ballantine and published by Ballantine Books in 1972. It incorporates a number of suggestions from famed SF editor John W. Campbell. Since then, Foster\'s sometimes humorous, occasionally poignant, but always entertaining short fiction has appeared in all the major SF magazines as well as in original anthologies and several \"Best of the Year\" compendiums. His...
0 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
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
WBWilly Breinholst
Willy Breinholst (born 27 June 1918) is a Danish author, screenwriter, and humorist born in Fredensborg, Denmark. Occupation Author Screenwriter Humorist Willy Breinholst is the only humorous writer on Earth whose books have been on German bestseller lists for more than 450 weeks ! He has had five of his books on the SPIEGEL top-ten list in the same week - a world record accepted by GUINNESS! It is no wonder that Breinholst-books are published in over a 100 countries. Willy Breinholst’s books are read all over the World from the Republic of South Africa and Australia to Siberia, Greenland and Iceland in the North. He has been awarded the Lübbe Ehrenpreis for 4.000.000 sold Lübbe-books. He has been awarded the Danish Humorist Prize, the Carl Möller Prize, the Bulgarian Hitar-Peter Medal and the Icelandic Heimaey Medal for his books. Other recipients of the Icelandic Heimaey Medal have been the Icelandic president, the Nobel Prize winner Halldor Laxness – and Bing Crosby! The Danish...
3 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
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
it\'s all in my head
de Roxana-Adina Stroilescu
o să le fac pe toate mai ales în luna asta când voi returna bomboanele de pom nu mi-o lua în nume de rău dovezile sunt ca o răscolire a intestinelor mele atașată de spate și de noile parfumuri o să...
Cu stangul inainte!
de Andrei Dumitrescu
i feel dead. awaiting your kiss. i don\'t believe in love! do you exist?... am ramas in pana de cuvinte. de fapt, cred ca mi-e doar sila. si de ele, si de mine, si de tot ceea ce mi se intampla, si...
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...
The Killer in Me
de Raluca
It was the cold shiver of sudden understanding that woke me from the trance: had I really done it or was it just my imagination? And with quivering arms I raised the gun, its barrel hot and smoking,...
November
de Ovidiu Tarau
It\'s raining in the streets...and in my head, And nobody could stop the falling rain... I can\'t fight anymore with all this pain... I cannot even think - my thoughts are dead - But where in this...
House with no door
de Peter Hamill
There\'s a house with no door and I\'m living there at nights it gets so cold and the days are hard to bear inside. There\'s a house with no roof, so the rain creeps in, falling through my head as I...
to hell and back
de oana stanescu
Sometimes I feel like I’m falling appart Sometimes I’m just dying without any questions..or thoughts..or reasons.. Sometimes my head is so heavy almost like a burden how can I get rid of that single...
Cyber Lesson Learned
de Ohm
A letter is being written for you. 10/26 Written in draft form, why? Because I know not what else to do? It is as cold here, in draft, as it is in my heart. My body chilled, by your absence. My mind...
I Let You All In
de Ohm
more dreams angelic prose I grow numb to it all I let you all in without destroying my wall one is the same as the others are different (another angel’s kiss without knowing what it meant) sink your...
Dracula
de Bram Stoker
Chapter 13 - Dr. Seward\'s Diary The funeral was arranged for the next succeeding day, so that Lucy and her mother might be buried together. I attended to all the ghastly formalities, and the urbane...