"the smoke of my soul" – 11443 rezultate
0.03 secundeMeilisearchHancu George
Inspiration Inspiration Sit down she said, pen me a few lines, tell me of life, love, hopes and dreams. write to me of much happier times When love ruled your heart, and life it seemed Was full of possibilities, plans and endless schemes. I took up the challenge, and began to write, Of life, of love and hopes and dreams, Words flowed like rivers, as I wrote them down, Thinking all the while of the lady I'd found To inspire my thoughts, and urge me on, To make something beautiful, maybe a song. Into the small hours, I toiled away, writing down lines, throwing them away. 'Twas then that I realised, that the happier times That she spoke of and wanted, were not of that time. For the happier times were not from long ago, But were here with me now, and now I know, That 'twas the love for this lady, that made my words flow, And to write something beautiful, for her, her alone. I wrote of life, and my living with her, Of love, her in my arms forever more, Of hopes, a future for us so bright,...
2 poezii, 0 proze
ILIvan V. Laliæ
Ivan V. Laliæ (born June 8, 1931 - died July 28, 1996) was a Serbian poet with a reputation as one of the finest European poets of his time. Laliæ was born into a cultured family in Belgrade; his father, Vlajko, was a journalist, and his grandfather Isidor Bajiæ was a celebrated composer. As a child he experienced the trauma of seeing many of his school-friends perish in an air-raid. Laliæ said that "my childhood and boyhood in the war marked everything I ever wrote as a poem or poetry". Laliæ lived in both Zagreb and Belgrade, and spent the summers with his family in the Istrian town of Rovinj. He was survived by his Croatian wife, Branka, and his younger son. Laliæ was awarded with the most prestigious literary prizes in Yugoslavia. He was admired abroad and books of his poems have been translated into six languages (English, French, Italian, Polish, Hungarian and Macedonian). Individual poems have appeared in more than 20 languages. In her obituary of him, Celia Hawkesworth spoke...
1 poezii, 0 proze
Louis Jenkins
Louis Jenkins’ poems have been published in a number of literary magazines and anthologies, including The Best American Poetry 1999 (Scribner, 1999) and Great American Prose Poems (Scribner, 2003). His books of poetry include An Almost Human Gesture (1987), All Tangled Up With the Living (1991), Nice Fish: New and Selected Prose Poems(1995), winner of the Minnesota Book Award, Just Above Water(1997), The Winter Road(2000) and Sea Smoke(2004). His most recent books are North of the Cities (2007), European Shoes (2008) and Before You Know It: Prose Poems 1970-2005(2009) all published by Will o’ the Wisp Books. Mr. Jenkins was awarded two Bush Foundation Fellowships for poetry, a Loft-McKnight fellowship, and was the 2000 George Morrison Award winner. Louis Jenkins has read his poetry on A Prairie Home Companion and was a featured poet at the Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival in 1996 and at the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival, Aldeburgh, England in 2007. Louis Jenkins is one of the...
6 poezii, 0 proze
TWtenesee williams
Tennessee Williams, pseudonimul literar al lui Thomas Lanier Williams, (n. 26 martie 1911 – d. 25 februarie 1983) a fost un dramaturg, poet și romancier american, laureat al premiului Pulitzer pentru dramă pentru piesa de teatru A Streetcar Named Desire (Un tramvai numit dorință) în 1948 și ulterior pentru piesa Cat On a Hot Tin Roof (Pisica pe acoperișul fierbinte) în 1955. Tennessee Williams s-a născut la Columbus, Mississippi. Când avea trei ani familia sa s-a mutat la Clarksdale, Mississippi, apoi în anul 1918, la Saint Louis, Missouri. Piese timpurii 1936 – Candles to the Sun 1937 – Fugitive Kind 1937 – Spring Storm 1938 – Not about Nightingales 1940 – Battle of Angels -- rescrisă în 1957 ca Orpheus Descending 1945 – You Touched Me 1944 – Stairs to the Roof Piese majore 1944 – The Glass Menagerie -- Menajeria de sticlă 1947 – A Streetcar Named Desire -- Un tramvai numit dorință 1948 – Summer and Smoke -- Vară și fum 1950 – The Rose Tatoo -- Trandafirul tatuat 1955 – Cat on a Hot...
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ASAnna Sewell
Anna Sewell (30 March 1820 – 25 April 1878) was an English novelist, best known as the author of the classic novel Black Beauty. Anna Mary Sewell was born in Great Yarmouth, Norfolk, England into a devoutly Quaker family. Her father was Isaac Phillip Sewell (1793-1879), and her mother, Mary Wright Sewell (1798 - 1884) was a successful author of children's books. Anna Sewell had one sibling, a younger brother named Philip Sewell. Anna Sewell was largely educated at home. When Anna was twelve years old, the family moved to Stoke Newington, where Sewell attended school for the first time. Two years later, however, she slipped while walking home from school and severely injured both of her ankles. Her father took a job in Brighton in 1836, partly in the hope that the climate there would help to cure her. Despite this, and most likely because of mistreatment of her injury, for the rest of her life Anna was unable to stand without a crutch or to walk for any length of time. For greater...
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CCCarlos Castaneda
Carlos Castaneda (25 December 1925 – 27 April 1998) was a Peruvian-born American anthropologist and author. Starting with The Teachings of Don Juan in 1968, Castaneda wrote a series of books that describe his purported training in traditional Mesoamerican shamanism. His 12 books have sold more than 8 million copies in 17 languages. The books and Castaneda, who rarely spoke in public about his work, have been controversial for many years. Supporters claim the books are either true or at least valuable works of philosophy and descriptions of practices which enable an increased awareness. Academic critics claim the books are works of fiction, citing the books' internal contradictions, discrepancies between the books and anthropological data, alternate sources for Castaneda's detailed knowledge of shamanic practices and lack of corroborating evidence. In his books, Castaneda narrated in first person what he claimed were his experiences under the tutelage of a Yaqui shaman named don Juan...
2 poezii, 0 proze
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
the crow
un spectru bantuie Europa
4 poezii, 0 proze
TJThe Rave parties going Jester
nu stiu cum naiba sa scap de contul asta infect
2 poezii, 0 proze
The Shadow
29 poezii, 0 proze
RIDDLE (ghicitoare)
de Vlad Martinescu
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de T.S. Eliot
Thou hast committed— Fornication: but that was in another country, And besides, the wench is dead. The Jew of Malta. I AMONG the smoke and fog of a December afternoon You have the scene arrange...
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PART THE FIRST. It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. “By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp’st thou me?” “The Bridegroom’s doors are opened wide, And I am...
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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...
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Ah the man she wanted all her life was hanging by a thread \"I never even knew how much I wanted you,\" she said. His muscles they were numbered and his style was obsolete. \"O baby, I have come too...
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`I die, I die!\' the Mother said, `My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless tyrant said?\' The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk\'s side, His...
Laboratory, The
de Robert Browning
ANCIEN RGIME. I. Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly, May gaze thro\' these faint smokes curling whitely, As thou pliest thy trade in this devil\'s-smithy--- Which is the poison to poison her,...
Joan of Arc
de Leonard Cohen
Now the flames they followed Joan of Arc as she came riding through the dark; no moon to keep her armour bright, no man to get her through this very smoky night. She said, \"I\'m tired of the war, I...