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"brevis" poems
They are not long, the weeping and the laughter, Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us after We pass the gate. They are not long, the days of wine and roses: Out of a misty dream Our path emerges for a while, then closes Within a dream. [The title translates, from the Latin, as 'The brief sum of life forbids us the hope of enduring long' and is from a work by Horace]
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Vitae Summa Brevis Spem Nos Vetat Incohare Longam
Aurora borealis, aurora australis. Mare nostrum, sub silentio, sub secreto, ad libitur, as infinitum. Ira furor brevis est, amor suo iure. Memento vivere, in dubio, in dolorosa, in posse, in nubibus, in pace, in spiritu et veritate, in pleno, nvne avt nvnquam, ad vitam aeternam.
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Jul 5, 2010
Jul 5, 2010 at 1:28 AM UTC
Memento vivere
“Art washes away, from the soul the dust of everyday life.” No more pain, stress or strife. “Have no fear of perfection, you'll never reach it.” So don't ever throw a fit. “I saw the angel in the marble, and carved until I set him free." Amazed by what beauty could come from me. "Art is not a thing; it is a way." So carpe diem... seize the day.
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Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 10:12 PM UTC
Ars longa, Vita brevis
In the begin ing I’ve been telling you that I am not playing games any more. I am older and wi ser because I have my ex perience to boast, my vita brevis to flaunt. But like all things, change happened as I succumbed to your own con ditions. I have been a mons ter because of love. Someth ing that I was not and never thought I will be. But here I am. I really am thinking no w how to resolve this iss ue. Just promise me that you will do everything to change. That will suffice.
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Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 5:53 PM UTC
The Last Resort
When she walks into your kitchen crying, put down your half scrubbed *** turn off the faucet, wipe the water off of your hands with a white dish towel. Like her eyes are trying to dry themselves on her pale cheeks. You wrap your arms around her and let her cry into your hair. You feel like a mother comforting a child who has just lost their favorite stuffed toy. Her grandfather just passed away, and this is the first time she has left her house since that night. The night she couldn't drive fast enough to say goodbye. You don't wipe the tear from her jaw line. You're afraid your water wrinkled fingers will remind her of him.
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Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 3:19 PM UTC
Vita brevis
Don't know where she came from nor about her torrid path Sunshine and butterflies told me this is the one mac Ars longa, vita brevis Art is long life is short/sweet The marching bands are back promoting fighting in the streets She's a life-changer life-changer She's a life-changer life changer As caterpillars died off fast and darkness soon filled in I needed someone to reflect that way I felt with-in I know she'll pass this way again and hope and pray 'till then for another pretty girl just sending me to heaven
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Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 2:36 PM UTC
Mindbender
Illusions, surreal as they come; Embraced a newfangled tangent; When he strode in like a lightning, And eluded like a star so distant. The time with him around, Have become fragments of me. Manifesting into little chunks, And etched in doting memory. Prayers fail me even as I vainly try To seize that moment of bliss While I watch him in rapture Let myself want to passionately kiss I have a confession to make, I am Guilty of an unblemished sensation! Of adoration, desire and superlative love A feeling so poignant I felt with none I want to clinch it and make it my own But I must be a fool to cage the breeze So I will seek solace in my musing By writing ballads like these!
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May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 8:23 AM UTC
Vita Brevis!
Life is short like a dream, like juvenile fit of laughter flying away from the lips. Short and dumb. Full of invitations, insinuations, and desire. It is a short wealth of blood and pleasure beating in the veins. It is growing bliss and bountiful pain. Silence, cyclical time, will. It is the pursue of love and to continue, persistent, until you behold the abyss. Life is short like a dream and death is long as an awakening.
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Nov 10, 2017
Nov 10, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
Vita brevis
Art is long and life is short So paint your voice and draw your nerve. If your sound cannot be heard close your eyes and feel the words. From within a noise will grow Upon your skin it's waves will show. A map of a lifetime for all to see Just a stitch in the fabric of eternity. There's never the time to say what's wrong So paint it down and make it strong. Sing it out loud if that's what feels right Do it right now, feel the delight. Life is short and art is long So dance your life and live your song.
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Aug 5, 2016
Aug 5, 2016 at 11:39 AM UTC
Ars longa vita brevis.
conFusion emotions RUN rampant inDeCision like the path of moonSoon windS screams, Yells and cries Music in discoRd fear aLL around elepHants traMple on grasses grasses, NOWHERE to hide young plead with old OLD PLEAD WITH DEATH
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Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 10:46 AM UTC
Ira furor brevis est
Life is short vita brevis You gotta make do w/what you got No sense worrying about the pain When you spent all those years figuring out which pills or nutrients Worked best for you on a humid day Some can make it all go away Other things could make it last/stay So glad remembering ing you And I fought in wars too Just yesterday you were the high school school girl And I was learning 'bout new stuff And other things got in the way But I believe in miracles It's not easy living w/broken parts After fifty years of broken hearts When will I mend my broken heart When I'm living w/broken parts
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Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
W/Broken Parts
Lovely flowers shall wither much too soon for you my darling! I can sing in only runes near your broken corpse sewn effigy and I will steal the energy from that place that I was meant to burn. So please my love do not rest for me. And i will sew a t h o u s a n d dolls only to bring to me your last lilac smile, Yet only you whisper those ever dreaded words. “Ars longa, vita brevis” So i can fake a dandy laugh At least I can give you that. Oh! The last of my fears lie stainless and dormant, with the tears that would stain your neck Yet “ad astra aspera” And no matter how much your body will crack your sage blue lips, forever you'll be with your coal black eyes until our lullabye turns to a cry. So I shall wait with deprived rest. Dripping heads, Frozen fingers, P u r p l e l i p s!! All the singing monitors and drippings bags turn pale and silent next to what your hands had told me by nightfall, oh baby hold me before i sleep despite all the holes in my feet. With faces and fingers that drip with salt With jarring moans that echo not but L I V E!! And oh if it could be that these four walls could speak. They would stay in such mournful silence for all the death that they've been borne to hold. OH! So I weep for these four battered walls!! And i can still hear your cursed breaths jumping through the halls And every single inhale delves in fear of being last. I wonder if darling witch breath will halt to an end. And dancing darling to your deathbed, I ask that slowly witch you dread. For what are to be letters you'll sing when at last you are to end. Then you breathe my name! You hold my hand and oh!!how it feels until i look at you with melting zeal! ...to see I was your last. For darling, now that you are dead.
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Oct 18, 2020
Oct 18, 2020 at 5:50 PM UTC
Lovely Flowers.
Lovely flowers shall wither much too soon for you my darling! I can sing in only runes near your broken corpse sewn effigy and I will steal the energy from that place that I was meant to burn. So please my love do not rest for me. And i will sew a t h o u s a n d dolls only to bring to me your last lilac smile, Yet only you whisper those ever dreaded words. “Ars longa, vita brevis” So i can fake a dandy laugh At least I can give you that. Oh! The last of my fears lie stainless and dormant, with the tears that would stain your neck Yet “ad astra aspera” And no matter how much your body will crack your sage blue lips, forever you'll be with your coal black eyes until our lullabye turns to a cry. So I shall wait with deprived rest. Dripping heads, Frozen fingers, P u r p l e l i p s!! All the singing monitors and drippings bags turn pale and silent next to what your hands had told me by nightfall, oh baby hold me before i sleep despite all the holes in my feet. With faces and fingers that drip with salt With jarring moans that echo not but L I V E!! And oh if it could be that these four walls could speak. They would stay in such mournful silence for all the death that they've been borne to hold. OH! So I weep for these four battered walls!! And i can still hear your cursed breaths jumping through the halls And every single inhale delves in fear of being last. I wonder if darling witch breath will halt to an end. And dancing darling to your deathbed, I ask that slowly witch you dread. For what are to be letters you'll sing when at last you are to end. Then you breathe my name! You hold my hand and oh!!how it feels until i look at you with melting zeal! ...to see I was your last. For darling, now that you are dead.
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while still a teen, the Bard of Avon wed the mother of his too-untimely child to whom--in death--he left his less-loved bed in memory of their days young, and wild if with maturity they'd grown apart inevitably, she--at least--got hurt the poet so attuned to pluck the heart- strings spent his time in London chasing skirt for English poets, he still sets the mark but whom he's wooing isn't ever clear the sonnets idolize a lady dark whom--second to his Muse--he holds most dear they're all long dead, yet still his art remains evoking timeless joys, and loves, and pains
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Dec 29, 2016
Dec 29, 2016 at 5:15 PM UTC
Ars longa, vita brevis
Everyone has had their say enough--no more- goodbye is the final word as we silently walk away.
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Nov 22, 2017
Nov 22, 2017 at 12:09 AM UTC
VITA BREVIS
I wish not to contend it's a sign of inner weakness to bend towards that which is indulged by those in discontent rather in my silent way learn to strengthen my zeal to live to life's beauty my heart to lend vita brevis tempus fugit carpe diem at dawn the flowers blow at night they weep the hours are lent for but a while too soon does end the sweetest smile I should learn to understand as I stand on shifting sand the tide will rise to wash away all that's on the strand I'll be left staring at the faraway sea wondering its whereabout and where it would end.
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Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
THE FUTILITY OF STRIFE