I used to read your poems but lately you don't write you're silent and aloof you know that isn't right. You can't close a door once opened you can't abolish all your dreams you're a poet of the heart mustn't fall apart at the seams. Say what you can in words they speak the message true spoken from the heart the poems will see you through. A hermit's not your style a recluse, you are not never give up writing of things that you've been taught. I used to read your poems I'd read them once again if you would send them out (this one's from a poet friend)
🎯 Watch the short film Brideless Groom, starring the Three Stooges, and imagine if the male parts were played by females, and the female parts were played by males. Imagine the outrage if men crashed a wedding ceremony to beat up the women.
Avrei voluto sentirmi scabro ed essenziale siccome i ciottoli che tu volvi, mangiati dalla salsedine; scheggia fuori dal tempo, testimone di una volontà fredda che non passa. Altro fui: uomo intento che riguarda in sé, in altrui, il bollore della vita fugace uomo che tarda all'atto, che nessuno, poi, distrugge. Volli cercare il male che tarla il mondo, la piccola stortura d'una leva che arresta l'ordegno universale; e tutti vidi gli eventi del minuto come pronti a disgiungersi in un crollo. Seguìto il solco di un sentiero m'ebbi l'opposto in cuore, col suo invito; e forse m'occorreva il coltello che recide, la mente che decide e si determina. Altri libri occorrevano a me, non la tua pagina rombante. Ma nulla so rimpiangere: tu sciogli ancora i groppi interni col tuo canto. Il tuo delirio sale agli astri ormai.
I’m a New York girl Some of my family is from there It feels like home to me There are roots there I like it The hustle The bustle The vibe I’ve been to other cities In county and out But there’s nothing like it There’s an energy I’ve not seen it other places A toughness and resilience Other cities have their charms No question But for me I’m a New York girl
Tonight I hugged an angel And it made my night As she looked me in the eyes And held me real tight I sang to her a song And I saw her dance As her stunning beauty Had me in a trance Tonight I met an angel And she made me so happy Tonight I was in heaven Because she talked to me
when you are laughing are you crying when you’re under her thong? or do you think about yourself dying over the weight of my song? and I could tell you I could fake it I could never be wrong but you won’t ever find me broken over the weight of a song
All poets were poets in the past life! In love with literature: poetry, love, war, the cryptic and fantastical, the beloved imagination. But the love was too strong, an affair so raw, it bared no secrets, that it shattered the barrier of finality, and truly became timeless, and here you are.
Do you ever think that inside you lives a past poet that just wants to continue loving poetry? Enjoy (:
I love him I tell myself I know that We will be together forever I don’t believe that We could be separated My thoughts tell me that He’s the love of my life Sometimes my heart lies and says I could live an eternity Without him Like my friends say “We’re perfect for each other” And you can’t tell me He’s not the one.
You are the light of my life My morning sun and my evening moon I want to reach you and stay by your side Too bad you’re just “not in the mood” Too bad “you have better things to do” Because the only thing I do is think of you
I dream of you thinking about me too
Sometimes we want to be cared about by the wrong person
I blame you. For the dreams that died. For the love that i will never have. For the smile that you took from me. I wanted to fly far away but you Burnt my wings keeping me In the cold darkness. I blame you for killing me.
I like to take a negative feeling and turn it Into something good. We should allow people room to grow and breathe support someone in there dreams #blame #dreams #darkness #killing
They said, "The most beautiful art is looking into someone's eyes when they talk about the things they love." And I said, "Or looking at someone you love. Or maybe, just maybe, by looking at the mirror is the most beautiful art anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
a brand new balloon treasured by a naive child he tries his best to keep it safe but the wind carries it away the string drifting from his hands moving further and further into the sky and he can do nothing but watch