Never ever more - poetry
Once upon a midnight dreary,
Typing with a steady hand,
To remedy the situation,
Is this some maniacal intrusion?
With fingers wet and trembling,
I tried to catch the thing off-guard,
Now in state of indistinct fear,
So here's the morel of the story,
Should you be given this age old war cry,
I am the website commissioner of the Wandle built-up museum (http://www. wandle. org). Conventional in 1983 by local citizens firm to make sure that the chronicle of the valley was no longer neglected but enhanced awareness its heritage for the use and reimbursement of the community.
Listen as I Share: WE
You speak simple, completley understandable justifications I acknowledge them, admiration you, honor what you tell me and even despite the fact that I know where you're appearance from, I just sought after to share with you, let you hear: my heart..
The Gaul of La Laguna de Paca
Part OneI tell you a legend of long ago Of the deep-set city of La Laguna de Paca, (Where I had met a lasting ghost) Within this area of Huancayo--Peru; Truth lies, but only the soul knows.Part TwoSo the legend goes, of long ago: During the rising of the full moon The Mermaid of La Laguna de Paca, appears And to the adjoining towns folks, she echoes.
The Valley Of Pain
We were exiled from the Plot of Eden. Its sinless wonders nevermore to regain.
I AM SO Indebted for simpler times. Stores were congested on Sundays, TV shows seemed to make more sense, Family members spent ample time with each other, And ancestors were valued more than things.
Four Poems: Grendels Nature...the Racetrack...Counting days...[Now in English and Spanish]
English Version1) Grendel's DivorceYou must know that I do not hateAnd that I hate you, Because the whole thing dead has twoSides; A sound is one arm of the quiet, Ice has its warm half.I hate you in order to start hating you To begin life again And never to stop hating you: That is why I do not hate you yet.
Review Of Stephen B. Wileys First Book Of Poetry: HERO ISLAND
Poet Stephen B. Wiley's first book of poetry, Hero Island, reflects tender snapshots and reminiscent overviews of a number of stages of his life as a child functioning on a farm in New Jersey, summer vacations spent with his category in Northern Vermont, and his categorical stance on life.
Have you ever skilled fascination with a celebrity you know is not a good match for you? Or how about an attention-grabbing bond that roots itself deep in your memory..
Ceasar Vallejo: Black Roses [In English and Spanish]
Cesar Vallejo: Black RosesBow down your head ol' poet- To face God's grace ahead There are no more trenchesTo dig today? In the plant of your head,So-: Bow down, bow down,Ol' barbaric poet! Death rides the horse ahead I hear the crackling of a whip See the wild eyes of death.He order you to his den- The devil and his wind,So-: Bow down, bow down Your blood marked brows He will take you to the edge.
You Lost Your Last Back and Me
I will never think twice nor will I roll the dice When it comes to my life I will take my Grannio's adviceYou play the hand you're dealt when it comes to who will be your Dad - But if you bluff about a card's face value for too many years you not recall you had - No Aces or King of Hearts in your earliest deck - But moderately a worthless Joker-So Wild and Mad..
Rhymes of an Artillery Man [Vietnam War: 1971]
Rhymes of an Guns Man [Vietnam War: 1971]An eleven part poem By Dennis L. SilukI had went to Vietnam at the age of 23 , and it was most interesting, there were 205,000 troops there when I arrived.
Feelings, O How Glorious!
Sometimes we feel hard-pressed, Our backs anti the wall; Sometimes we feel lightheaded, As if we are going to fall.Sometimes we feel fierce anger At those who abuse guns; Sometimes we feel ashamed Of how we treat God's barely ones.
I Hate The Wait (Weight)
I get up in the morningAnd want to stay in bedOh, so nice and warmLike fresh from the oven bread.My day is oh so busyI wish that I could stayIn the quiet of my houseIf only I could play.
Azra, Azra, Wake up Azra. Wake up Azra, It is time to go.
Sleep, Dreams, and a Poem
The Incubus' Flash-lightHe looked exclusive my head And found a dreamHe didn't like-;As I looked back at him, I found an incubus Shinning a light(and stole this poem from him-last night).Thoughts: Dreams and Poetry: in dreams we let go of our inhibitions; in poetry we write them back out.
House of the Elf [Part Two of Three/with notes]
House of the Goblin [Part Two of Three]Here is where, where the air is stillAnd the mountains gloom disappear! Here is where, unmarked spirits dwellWhere harp and remembrance expire?Where the rainbow-leaps, from itsStoreroom-keep, and cries; And the sands along the lot coastEcho then die?as in sleep?;And where charm turns into ghouls!..
Learn About Love From Poet Rumi
Learn about love by appraisal poetry by a long dead poet named Rumi. No need to look for antediluvian texts concealed in caves.
Shaking out the Rugs [Following the Poet]
Let's be a consequence the poet to his Hell and heaven! Count his Ghosts and dilemma's?Reach out to touch his Stretched-out skies; let's follow The poet to see where he lays.Let's be a consequence the poet to his end; To see if he can?whatever He wants to do, do over again?.
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 language With his abstract concepts With his intellect With his creativeness He has develop into enslaved By-them? By them all, he will fall. Ah! Yes-abstract concepts Bombast and oratory His intellect His cleverness This he grass behind To his decedents!.
Caught in the Arms of ED
YOU MIGHT THINK I AM STRONGI THINK YOU GOT IT WRONGI LIVE LIFE DAY TO DAYHOPING IT WILL GO MY WAYI HAVE MY Contacts AND MY FOOD PLANMY Psychotherapist AND MY THOUGHTSMY Assignment AND MY EXCITEMENTTHEN A little HAPPENS AND I GET CAUGHTCAUGHT IN THE ARMS OF EDTURNING MY EYES AWAYFROM MY FOCUS TO WIN THE FIGHTTHAT I Attention WAS GOING TO STAY.HE TELLS ME THAT I AM SELFISHTHAT I Must DOUBT MY EVERY MOVEONE Close I AM HAPPYDO I HAVE A RIGHT TO FEEL THIS GOOD?DOUBTING MY Dilution AND CONFIDENCEAS ED Constantly KNEW I WOULDI AM Bringing up the rear INCHES About MY WAISTAND MY PANTS ARE Lessening OFFI SEE THE FACE OF ED IN MY HEADAS HE BEGINS TO LAUGH AND SCOFFYOU THINK YOU ARE GOING STRONGYOU THINK YOU GOT ME BEATLET ME SEE YOU LOSE EVEN MOREYOU WILL SEE THAT YOU WERE WRONG.
Ambiguity and Abstraction in Bob Dylan's Lyrics
To many citizens contemporary poetry is a turn-off. The aim for this is that the adult years of these poems are boring.
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