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#oscarwilde
Oh how it once dreamt of flying high in Egypt Flying amongst glistening golden sand Soaring with it's flock All together, holding hands Until it found a prince, Called happy but tears fell He saw the pain that no one felt So it stayed and helped. Moved as a messenger Chose death and frost Over enjoyment and warmth in winter A bird's sacrifice, A spark of hope, that never hindered.
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1d ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 3:03 AM UTC
Wealthiest Heart of the city
A heart of lead Couldn't beat Couldn't feel Wasn't worthy without it's precious Yet it beat for poor, that no one saw It felt for the weak, that no one heard It gave away all it's shine, for ones unknown Stripping away sapphires, rubies, gold It's actual worth was shone.
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1d ago
Jun 2, 2026 at 3:01 AM UTC
The Happy Prince
under the section of old classics, I opened a page of Oscar Wilde, and there slipt my thumb, outwardly, it said with fear, "read first the basics." "why?" asked I, "what horror hath seen thee?" pale turned it's nail, and it spoke weakly - "Lines, six hundred, and six less to sixty ." "Ah" , said I "t'was the gaol reader's ballad ." and thus ran we both, as scared as a mallard.
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Jan 25
Jan 25, 2026 at 9:10 AM UTC
Once in a Library
I sat beneath a withered tree, A little swallow on the rock beside, Eyes gloomy and wings ducked, Whispered with a silent reflection, I am not made for the world. The swallow noticed me, With a little effort said to me, Hey, human you are so fragile, So fragile, to avoid us, Even the tree shed because of you. Listen, dear swallow of sky, Why do you rest here ? Deepened in despair and grief, What has happened? Put off the weight your little wings carry. I have seen the miseries, swallow said, This earth curtains it, With all the might but at last, It is revealed after a hunt, All the heartbroken gems and jewels. The swallow continued in sorrow, This globe is going in ruins, You can even notice it, All because of what you’ve done, That only you can restore it. Notice the nature, the seas, The skies, the grounds, The society, the energies you live in, All will vanish one day, Not now, but someday. Tell me human, Are you all black hearted ? Or am I black eyed ? All I have seen this far, Coincidences or consequences? I replied calmly and gently, With all tears in my eyes, Dear swallow, fly from here, In all the years I have aged, Is not even close to reply you, Fly back to ‘The Happy Prince’, He is ready to answer you.
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Jan 18
Jan 18, 2026 at 1:02 PM UTC
The Sad Swallow
Darling clever Oscar Wilde that Enfant terrible a rebellious child he was pretty and very witty and yes he was gay it's a shame we couldn't accept him that way
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Jan 15, 2023
Jan 15, 2023 at 4:26 AM UTC
Oscar
Və hər kəs öldürür öz sevdiyini, Qoy hamı dinləsin məni diqqətlə, Kimi acı baxışla başlayar bunu, Kimi yalan-yaltaq sözləri ilə. Qorxaqlar öpüşlə məhv edər onu, Cəsurlarsa qılınc zərbələriylə. Kimi gənckən öldürür sevdiklərini, Yaşlı vaxtlarında öldürən də var. Kimi qurban verər öz şəhvətinə, Kimi qır-qızılla onu soldurar. İnsaflısı bıçaq alar əlinə! Kəsdiyi tez ölər, tez də soyuyar. Kimi çox az sevər, kimisi lap çox, Kimi satar onu, alar başqası. Kimi gözyaşına boğulub edir, Kimi uf da deməz, saxlamaz yası. Sevdiyini çünki hər kəs öldürür, Amma hər öldürən çəkməz cəzasın!
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Nov 9, 2022
Nov 9, 2022 at 5:00 AM UTC
Hər kəs öldürür öz sevdiyini
Under an old display of neon lights two gilded exteriors meet. Their gold needs to melt and the lead core bared. Wilde's prince's lead core didn't melt, so won't their austere cores. Their gold melted in the neon haze, but didn't have the heart to see their leaden heart in the bright of the day.
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Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 8:50 AM UTC
Neon Haze.
I would wonder if there be A hidden portrait there of thee Which bears thy sin and guilt and shame While outwardly, thou art the same. If this not be, then let me write A poem to bring this all to light. Let these immortal words then be That true and twisted sight of thee.
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May 22, 2018
May 22, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
Dorian (unfinished)
I never saw a man who looked with such a wistful eye upon that little tent of blue which prisoners called the sky, and at every drifting cloud that went with sails of sliver by. I walked, with other souls in pain, within another ring, and was wondering if the man had done a great or a little thing, when a voice behind me said, "The man's got to swing" For he did not wear scarlet nor did he speak of it, for blood and wine were red and so was the color on his bed. He looked upon the garish day with such a wistful eye; the man had killed the thing he loved, and so he had to die.
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May 13, 2018
May 13, 2018 at 4:55 AM UTC
The Man
My pockets hold coarse wisdom stones that have yet to be eroded and known. No deed has been done with many tears, and my matter has yet to turn gray. I have nothing but stripped circles wrapped snug around no-sleep eyes I may be young and unknowing, but I'd hold scotch tape over ****** rivers for you, forever, for love.
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Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 1:22 AM UTC
All I Know
you shoud give in to temptation, at least that is what wilde tells us. but if you do, if you allow your soul's deepest wish to come true, dont you just give room for more? more to wish for more to hope for? is that really any better than keeping a temptation?
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Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 3:12 PM UTC
thinking
Trying to feel all at once I ended up Feeling nothing At all
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Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 8:35 AM UTC
dorian gray
Oscar Wilde once said something about death that i can no longer remember, but I know it was beautiful. it had something to do with how there’s no more today or tomorrow. how time becomes irrelevant there is no more past there is no more future it’s just you the wildflowers and the soft spring breeze
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 10:24 PM UTC
Another Poem About Death
What happened to the dandies Those gentlemen of the grandest Culture Destroyers of dreaded boundaries Mockers of meaningless morality Inquisitors of a profound lack of imagination Guardians of good taste Messengers of modernity What happened to those 19th century hipsters Who so gracefully dissected Society And whose wit and wisdom Shook the foundations Of mainstream hypocrisy Of inept intellectualism And lamentable lies We are in dire need of retrieving The lost art of being a dandy To shake the foundations once more And to revoke the righteous rage Of the cultural creed To set society aflame With wit and wisdom
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Oct 13, 2015
Oct 13, 2015 at 10:01 AM UTC
The lost art of being a dandy
To Love Oneself Is The Beginning Of A Lifelong Romance ~Oscar Wilde
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Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 9:00 AM UTC
Quote By Oscar Wilde
My dear boy, the people who love only once in their lives are the really shallow people. What they call their loyalty, and their fidelity, I call either lethargy of a custom or their lack of imagination. Faithfulness is to the emotional life what consistency is to the life of the intellect- simply a confession of failure. Lord Henry Wotton                                                                         The Picture of Dorian Gray
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Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 4:26 PM UTC
People who love once in their lives....
A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. The worse their rhymes are, the more picturesque they look. Lord Henry Wotton The Picture of Dorian Gray
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Mar 12, 2015
Mar 12, 2015 at 4:21 PM UTC
What makes a really great poet?