"not at my desk" – 3141 rezultate
0.02 secundeMeilisearchRadu 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
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/
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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
AFAnatole France
Anatole France, pseudonym for Jacques Anatole Thibault (1844-1924), was the son of a Paris book dealer. He received a thorough classical education at the Collège Stanislas, a boys\' school in Paris, and for a while he studied at the École des Chartes. For about twenty years he held diverse positions, but he always had enough time for his own writings, especially during his period as assistant librarian at the Senate from 1876 to 1890. His literary output is vast, and though he is chiefly known as a novelist and storyteller, there is hardly a literary genre that he did not touch upon at one time or another. France is a writer in the mainstream of French classicism. His style, modelled on Voltaire and Fénélon, as well as his urbane scepticism and enlightened hedonism, continue the tradition of the French eighteenth century. This outlook on life, which appears in all his works, is explicitly expressed in collection of aphorisms, Le Jardin d\'Épicure (1895) [The Garden of...
6 poezii, 0 proze
Dan Moldoveanu
'Somebody at one of these places ... asked me: "What do you do? How do you write, create?" You don't, I told them. You don't try. That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like its looks you make a pet out of it.' - Charles Bukowski
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Ohm
Life is entertaining when we do not take it too seriously...To be able to laugh at life is marvelous.
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Geo Mihali
Last but not least i'm off the leash reach for your masterpiece Feel the release from the phantom bangs you Snatched off i'll put you in a frame and hang you Comin' at you're village from a different angle
2 poezii, 0 proze
Don Miguel de Cervantes y Saavedra
It is not known for certain the exact date of his birth, but since according to Spanish tradition the Christening was carried through very closely after the birth, there is no doubt that his birthday was in 1547. The actual date of the Christening was October 9th, 1547 at the city of Alcala de Henares. Since then, little is known of his childhood, other than he lived with his family in Valladolid, Madrid, and other Andalusian cities. Finally, they settled in Madrid, and afterwards, he became the attendant to the Cardinal Acquaviva in Italy in 1569 . Later on, Cervantes enlisted in to armed forces for the naval Battle of Lepanto (it took place on the 7th of December of 1571) where he was injured. This meant the handicap of his left hand, but he still continued as a soldier, on his voyage returning to Spain 1575 in the galley Sun, he fell prisoner of the Turks when it was over powered. The next five years, Cervantes is a prisoner of war in Algiers, from where he tried to escape four...
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JBJean de La Bruyère
He was born in Paris, not, as was once thought, at Dourdan (in today's Essonne département) in 1645. His family was middle class, and his reference to a certain Geoffroy de La Bruyère, a crusader, is only a satirical illustration of a method of self-ennoblement common in France as in some other countries. Indeed he himself always signed the name Delabruyère in one word, as evidence of this. He could trace his family back at least as far as his great-grandfather, who had been a strong Leaguer. La Bruyère's own father was controller general of finance to the Hôtel de Ville. The son was educated by the Oratorians and at the University of Orléans; he was called to the bar, and in 1673 bought a post in the revenue department at Caen, which gave him status and an income. His predecessor in the post was a relation of Jacques Benigne Bossuet, and it is thought that the transaction was the cause of La Bruyère's introduction to the great orator Bossuet, who from the date of his own...
3 poezii, 0 proze
Phoebe Pratten
Phoebe Pratten was born in Canberra Australia in 1975. At the age of three, she was diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy. By 14 she was not able to walk anymore, as the disease affected the muscles. At the same time she couldn\'t make use of her hands or her arms, so she needed to find different ways of holding the pen. Her interests include art, alternative health and writing poetry. The first collection of poetry \"Layers of Silence\" was published in 1999.
1 poezii, 0 proze
not at my desk
de emilian valeriu pal
un stol de grauri rostogolește un soare verde pe cer ai crede că dumnezeu își varsă fierea peste orașul acesta împînzit de trasoare e liniște multă liniște ca după o mare glaciațiune e dimineață și...
Not at my desk
de shufaBZ
Unavailable Ai inchis tabla plina de fumul pieselor arse prefacute-n gri scrum. Zarurile-ai spart si cioburi de noroc am adunat in pumn ce ele-am sa mai scriu un vers: . .. ... .... ..... .........
Nevoia de profeti!
de ruxandra krisan
Va amintesc bancul ala vechi cu nebunul care se credea Napoleon in fata doctorului sau. Doctorul, intr-un acces de furie, il izoleaza pentru motivul ca Napoleon era...el (doctorul). Constat acum o...
An everlasting love
de Filip Ruxandra
It was the middle of the night when he first saw me. I was no bigger then 5 centimeters and I was looking into the mirror, dressed in my new little white dress. I didn’t realize till late that I was...
On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year
de George Gordon Noel Byron
Missolonghi, Jan. 22, 1824 \'Tis time this heart should be unmoved, Since others it hath ceased to move: Yet, though I cannot be beloved, Still let me love! My days are in the yellow leaf; The...
Haiku și tanka
de Marian Nicolae TOMI
* ceaiul dă în foc - the tea is boiling - cu ochii pierduți pe câmp the eyes lost on the field închizând geamul closing the window * privind un lemn uscat – looking at a dry log - înflorind fără...
Avatar
de Otilia Mărculescu
I see you and by this meaning that I am not naive you can rest assure about that- I will not preach that at my birth the goddesses came and blessed me with the gift of sight this is something I...
Hamlet
de William Shakespeare
HAMLET DRAMATIS PERSONAE (PAGINA 7) ACT IV SCENE II Another room in the castle. [Enter HAMLET] HAMLET Safely stowed. ROSENCRANTZ: | | [Within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! GUILDENSTERN: | HAMLET What noise?...
Makiko
de B.S.3
M-am e-mailuit cu furnizoarea Japoneza si i-am scris(am pus putina paprica si piper) ca in Japoneza stiu citeva cuvinte: Kamikadze,Sumo,Harakiri,Akiro...ca nu exista scris in Engleza pe strazile...
Tree at my Window
de Robert Frost
Tree at my window, window tree, My sash is lowered when night comes on; But let there never be curtain drawn Between you and me. Vague dream-head lifted out of the ground, And thing next most diffuse...