DARK Angel, with thine aching lu… To rid the world of penitence: Malicious Angel, who still dost My soul such subtile violence! Because of thee, no thought, no th…
It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you… By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no…
There was a desire in my tears tha… In the lap of destiny, there was n… The wounds of love and the stings… And the compelling love and the po… My journey of love was like a trav…
Love isn’t environmental, Love is personal, is not incidental, is providential,
Hello, sun in my face. Hello, you who make the morning and spread it over the fields and into the faces of the tulips and the nodding morning glories,
There is, all around us, this country of original fire. You know what I mean. The sky, after all, stops at nothi…
not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus
It was sometime ago, on their firs… a young couple enthused in prepari… Husband and wife, growing together… He bought her a powder blue dress,… Of course, himself in his Sunday’…
emperor’s new clothes... nth time… ...poem inspired by Hans Christia… emperor’s new clothes... nth time… not to embarrass the townspeople in their heart of hearts the crowd
You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your kn… for a hundred miles through the de… You only have to let the soft anim… love what it loves.
Bring me to the blasted oak That I, midnight upon the stroke, (All find safety in the tomb.) May call down curses on his head Because of my dear Jack that’s de…
Stop all the clocks, cut off the t… Prevent the dog from barking with… Silence the pianos and with muffle… Bring out the coffin, let the mour… Let aeroplanes circle moaning over…
Our shells clacked on the plates. My tongue was a filling estuary, My palate hung with starlight: As I tasted the salty Pleiades Orion dipped his foot into the wat…
In the heart of a dreaming man wit… lies an empathetic soul, understan… His gaze, a silent whisper in the… Reflecting untold stories, each a… A huge library he guards, beneath…
we have everything and we have not… and some men do it in churches and some men do it by tearing butt… in half and some men do it in Palm Spring…
I thought that I could not be hur… I thought that I must surely be impervious to suffering— immune to pain or agony.
I tripped on my shoelace And I fell up— Up to the roof tops, Up over the town, Up past the tree tops,
Come with me into the field of sunflowers. Their faces are burnished disks, their dry spines creak like ship masts,
Is the soul solid, like iron? Or is it tender and breakable, lik… the wings of a moth in the beak of… Who has it, and who doesn’t? I keep looking around me.
At this moment in time, we’d like to invite First Class passengers only to board the aircraft. We now extend our invitation to Exclusive, Superior, Privilege and Excelsior members, foll...
Abulgualid Muhámmad Ibn-Ahmad ibn-Muhámmad ibn-Rushd (un siglo tardaría ese largo nombre en llegar a Averroes, pasando por Benraist y por Avenryz, y aun por Aben-Rassad y Filius Rosadis...
There’s a whisper down the field w… And the ricks stand grey to the su… Singing: ‘Over then, come over, f… ‘And your English summer’s done.’ You have heard the beat of the off…
Eyes are the windows to the soul Is that why they are called blinds… To blind the world of our messes Our distresses as we distrust. To hide from judgement, expectatio…
When I am sad and weary When I think all hope has gone When I walk along High Holborn I think of you with nothing on
Time will say nothing but I told… Time only knows the price we have… If I could tell you I would let y… If we should weep when clowns put… If we should stumble when musician…
This is the place you would rather not know about, this is the place that will in hab… this is the place you cannot imagi… this is the place that will finall…
A shilling life will give you all… How Father beat him, how he ran a… What were the struggles of his you… Made him the greatest figure of hi… Of how he fought, fished, hunted,…
“O who can ever gaze his fill,” Farmer and fisherman say, “On native shore and local hill, Grudge aching limb or callus on th… Father, grandfather stood upon thi…
I’d seen their hoofprints in the deep needles and knew they ended the long night under the pines, walking
The mills of the gods grind slowly… But this mill Chatters in mechanical staccato. Ugly short infantry of the mind, Advancing over difficult terrain,