Since of you - poetry
You are to me my lifeline my security. That scares me. I never sought after to trust again that much I got hurt too badly the last time. I swore I'd never do it again, never let the trust out of my hands into a celebrity elses.
And yet I've done it and now I'm afraid of what you will do with it, of what I'll do as of it.
My first instinct is, as always, to run, to hide, to care for myself from the hurt I know will come. I don't know when or how, just that it will, sometime.
I sought after to keep myself to build the walls about me but you wouldn't let me. You smashed bricks as I put them in place you refused to let me shut for my part in, so now what? Where do I go now? I feel lost,defenceless, my hitting place is no more.
My walls are broken and I'm now fearful to rebuild the walls afraid I won't see you if I do or anybody else and I'm not sure if that's especially what I want to do.
AT times it is. I want to shut for myself away and hide, and yet I want to be out, to mix to talk to share. And I blame you for not leasing me ahead of shaking me up for refusing to let me retreat.
And yet I know that if I were not ready you could not have reached me no one could. I would have confined for myself better I wouldn't have risked or grown.
I want to curse you and thank you at the same time. I want to laugh with delight at the clothes I've seen and found with you and cry in despair for what will not be.
You have opened me to be what, I'm not yet sure but I know that I am stronger because of you braver, since of you more, for the reason that of you.
Fran Watson "Expert Author" http://www. franwatson. ca http://www. mormunny4u. org http://www. diet-basics. org
Way of Life: Rhymes of the Inca [four poems: see in Spanish and English NOW!]
Way of Life: Rhymes of the IncaPizarro (Spanish conquistador ((1525))The blind adhere to the blind The dumb adhere to the fool But the cleaver, like 'Pizarro,' (who could not read or write) Followed human-nature? And ruled the Inca world!Thus, Atahualpa was Beheaded out of pride and Indolence-: one might say, And ignorance ruled? .Note: don Francisco Pizarro #689 5/27/05Cepeda the Sly [Lima, Perú-l546 AD]Cepeda the Sly-, judge With two sides; one false, One pride-both mixed with lies.
Portrait Of The Actor As A Young Dog
Emlyn Williams Theatre, Mold, North Wales: 20th February 2003Clwyd Theatr Cymru commemorated the 50th anniversary of the death of the Welsh poet, Dylan Thomas (1914-1953) with a superb run of performances by a small but accomplished cast of actors.Described in the programme as "A artificial journey all the way through the prose characters of Dylan Thomas", the fabrication was bent by Tim Baker, an Accomplice of the Royal Countrywide Theatre, who won the Manchester Sundown News Best Visiting Fabrication award in 1992 for the decidedly commended To Kill a Mockingbird.
Stone Beds [A Poem and an Advance]
Stone Beds [Pompeii's surge]Advance: after the great explosion of Pompeii's adjoining volcano, Vesuvius, some two-thousand years ago in the peak of the Roman Empire, what was left of the city were by and large ashes of stone from an unleashing furnace; it is hard to dream what the associates went by means of (none, not one being survived). I can only guess from the looks of the city today, and in its early excavations, its associates were baked alive or asleep, like pottery.
Azra, Azra, Wake up Azra. Wake up Azra, It is time to go.
As I chosen up some of the polished gemstones in the rock store I began to think about what the sand looked like ahead of they were polished. The store had numerous rocks on ceremony viewing the ahead of and after and I realized that except you knew what you were looking for, you could by far pass by a beneficial gemstone.
Four Poems: Garner of Angry Cattle [Katrinas Pathway]
Four Poems: Katrina's PathwayHarvest of Angry Horses ((Dedicated to: Katrina)) crisis)It has happened before: Nearby and afar, Where the four-horses of Apocalypse With their angry nostrils Breathed in the fury of the winds Only to vomit out, disaster; - Then galloped away, Against pale faces!..
Learn About Love From Poet Rumi
In this avant-garde age of technology, busy lifestyles, and obsession with consumerism have taken a lot of the romance and love out of our lives. The Internet has develop into a form to associate with colonize as all and sundry is discovery it a lot harder to meet one a different in the 'real' world.
Ole Bulky Jeeps & Paper, Ink and Rain [two Peoms]
Ole Bulky JeepsThrough late summer's heat These bulky shaped jeeps Ride by house and farm City and barn-Hungry for Spring-again, eager to avoid The Slipping and sliding Of winter's ice and wind?[s]Their bulky legs are dirty From affecting dust and rain (Here and there, everywhere) Through all kinds of terrain Like heartbreaking clouds caught In the flora of the woods? They never slow down a ting They have a duty, and give.It's part of how they live- In military-, bulky ole jeeps!.
Africa - Wheres The Profit?
A poetic expansion that just welled up exclusive my head - why cant we just do amazing - beforehand many more are dead?How pious those politicians are, When up there on T.V.
The Ballad of: Brawling Mad-dog Sergeant Rook [Now in: SPANISH and English]
English VersionA bunch of us guys in the hutIn ?Nam Were before a live audience cards, singing songs; In a solo-room, back of the hut Lay mad-dog, Sergeant Rook;And inspection from a distance Was his sidekick, Physical Cook.When out of the night, he wantedTo fight This bully of six-foot-two Dog-drunk, smelling like a skunkI sought to fight him too.
It Was Not Me
It was not me as I am now. It was not me as I was then.
JOINEDHeart beat of man pounding - yet unheard joined becomes the beat of a nation.Words of man written - yet unread joined becomes a proclamation.
Testimony to the Night [In English and Spanish]
In the quiet of the freezing night- In its deep northern skies, Dim are the lights, in its coldEvening frost?! Even the stars of the arctic Seem without a sound stone frozen!Here, here is where you find Peace and the beast within-! Remote, no ears or wordsTo disorder the mind To ensconce the throat; Here, here is where you die?(for a moment).Here, the sky has eternal eyes Eyes with cosmic tides Tides that never rest: they warWith the Universe- Likened to a dark deep abyss; Endless and never resting?Here my eyes seek and search In countless hours, ebbing and Sweeping the heavens aboveNumbing, changeless- Are the cosmos, the heavens? Here resides a bizarre peace?Here, resides a curious peace With an army of stars to defeat Shinning, noiselessly in the darkThe ebbing, eldritch dark; Time has no importance here, Here, resides a strange, peace?Cold and oddly numb are my feet, As I look up, upon the many bridges One star bridging the next-as if,If Kings and Queens were Guarding them-the Hosts- O-Yes! A strange, alien peace?Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to thee Flaming, baking firmaments-ye, Ye, jog your memory me not, of the wars I left,Of the foes, divine immortals?The enemies that never rest Ah! Praise, praise be to thee, to theeI hear music, harmony from afar (there) There are storms clandestine in a storehouse, For tomorrow-war beyond, beyondOrion's dust?perpetual dust; There, there the sun is dim to bleak.
Passion and Poetry, and Life
Ironically, the passion that can counterbalance the nausea for difficulties depends on the endeavor to overcome these difficulties. The irony resides in the circularity of this attitude - which applies to all areas of activity, plus poetry: One must make the endeavor to overcome difficulties to accomplish hit and feel capable, and one needs this achievement and ambiance to have a passion for assembly this effort.
Opposites Do Be a magnet for Quite Well
When I am climbing up, you are stepping down. When I wear a smile, you wear a frown.
Ode, to the Mighty Midget Omac [In English and Spanish]
Part One Midget HistoryI am thirty-six inches tall, that is all-Honest to god I am My hair is green, my eyes red, and IHave a very thick neckMy eyebrows are thin, and my beardHas three hairs? And I bore abuse, when I was youngYes! It happened to be; day by day??folks laugh at me, my appearanceYou see?I make them appalled. .
A Ship to Remember
Blind Designs [a Poem] and a Note by Rosa on The Other Door
Blind DesignsBorn today, gone tomorrow Like a butterfly with no stomach Born n the morning, dead by night Oh-let me whisper Oh-let me cry What man has not learned? What man will not learn! In his pomposity, his idiom With his abstract concepts With his intellect With his creativeness He has be converted into enslaved By-them? By them all, he will fall. Ah! Yes-abstract concepts Bombast and expression His intellect His cleverness This he grass behind To his decedents!.
Three Poems: Dona Leonors Revenge; The Old Moon; Collective Sides [All in Spanish/all in English]
1) Doņa Leonor's Revenge [1627 AD]Rafael Ortiz's fate Was on the plate Of Doņa Leonor'sWhen she arrived In Lima, Peru; To taste revengeFor the beheading Of her husband. And so the plot?was now played out (in an alleyway) As she devastated her trout!In SpanishTranslated by Nancy PenalozaLa leyenda de: La venganza de doņa Leonor (1627 después de cristo)El destino de Rafael Ortiz Estaba sobre el plato De doņa Leonor.
Since Youve Been Gone...
My life has changedin so so many waysIt seems to at all times bein a state of disarray..
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