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"fod" poems
* "Our cattle graze, the wind breathes." -Garcilaso * It was my ancient voice ignorant of thick bitter juices. I sense it lapping my feet beneath the fragile wet ferns. Ay, ancient voice of my love, ay, voice of my truth, ay, voice of my open flank, when all the roses flowed from my tongue and grass knew nothing of horses' impassive teeth! Here are you drinking my blood, drinking my tedious childhood mood, while in the wind my eyes are bludgeoned by aluminum and drunken voices. Let me pass the gates where Eve eats ants and Adam seeds dazzled fish. Let me return, manikins with horns, to the grove where I stretch and leap with joy. I know a rite so secret it requires an old rusty pin and I know the horror of open eyes on a plate's concrete surface. But I want neither world nor dream, nor divine voice, I want my freedom, my human love in the darkest corner of breeze that no oen wants. My human love! Those hounds of the sea chase each other and the wind spies on careless tree trunks. Oh ancient voice, burn with your tongue this voice of tin and talc! I long to weep because I want to, as the children cry in the last row, because I'm not man, nor poet, nor leaf, but only a wounded pulse circling the things of the other side I want to cry out speaking my name, rose, child and fir-tree beside this lake, to speak my truth as a man of blood slay in myself teh tricks and turns of the word. No, no. I'm not asking, I, desire, voice, my freedom that laps my hands. In the labyrinth of screens it's my nakedness receives the moon of punishment and the ash-drowned clock. Thus I was speaking. Thus I was speaking with Saturn stopped the trains, when the fod and Dream and Death were seeking me. Seeking me where the cows, with tiny pages' feet, bellow and where my body floats between opposing fulcrums.
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Double Poem of lake Eden
* "Our cattle graze, the wind breathes." -Garcilaso * It was my ancient voice ignorant of thick bitter juices. I sense it lapping my feet beneath the fragile wet ferns. Ay, ancient voice of my love, ay, voice of my truth, ay, voice of my open flank, when all the roses flowed from my tongue and grass knew nothing of horses' impassive teeth! Here are you drinking my blood, drinking my tedious childhood mood, while in the wind my eyes are bludgeoned by aluminum and drunken voices. Let me pass the gates where Eve eats ants and Adam seeds dazzled fish. Let me return, manikins with horns, to the grove where I stretch and leap with joy. I know a rite so secret it requires an old rusty pin and I know the horror of open eyes on a plate's concrete surface. But I want neither world nor dream, nor divine voice, I want my freedom, my human love in the darkest corner of breeze that no oen wants. My human love! Those hounds of the sea chase each other and the wind spies on careless tree trunks. Oh ancient voice, burn with your tongue this voice of tin and talc! I long to weep because I want to, as the children cry in the last row, because I'm not man, nor poet, nor leaf, but only a wounded pulse circling the things of the other side I want to cry out speaking my name, rose, child and fir-tree beside this lake, to speak my truth as a man of blood slay in myself teh tricks and turns of the word. No, no. I'm not asking, I, desire, voice, my freedom that laps my hands. In the labyrinth of screens it's my nakedness receives the moon of punishment and the ash-drowned clock. Thus I was speaking. Thus I was speaking with Saturn stopped the trains, when the fod and Dream and Death were seeking me. Seeking me where the cows, with tiny pages' feet, bellow and where my body floats between opposing fulcrums.
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This poem is translate from http://hellopoetry.com/poem/warrior-of-tamriel-warrior-of-realitys-breath/ Zu'u faas nid nuz koraav pah, Dii dovah meyz fod Zu'u for. Zu'u imaar verin voknau dii hadrim, Ol nust swirl tuum tiid. Zu'u kriist firm ahrk faar, Waving dii zahkrii ko ven. Dii lein los nunon kein, Ol Zu'u krif wah juh. Nid uth vis gesaag zey fos wah dreh, Zu'u los Kinbokein do Keizaal. Dii bodein los do krilaan praan, ol dii noot everyday, los raal wah gor. Hi krif fah fos hi korah, Hi dir voth dignity. Zin yoz ko hin sostrah, Ol hi unt wah krif stin. Stinun prenlon fod Kendov kriist veyl, Rok uv rek fent kos, saviik wah lein. Tuum Lein do Taazokaan, Zu'u los Lokolteiren Rahzun, Ahrk Punah. Naangein vis kos kendov voknau strife, Orin tuum daar kein, Hi vis kos ges. Aav reid, Unad hin zen. Hi fent kos krongrahkei, Ahrk fen deserve Kendov Dinok. Jur thy dragonkin nu. Nust fen saraan hin arosend. Voknau hin dovah, Fent meyz thy untak. Kest riin tuum lok do Taazokaan, Ol Dovahkiin meyz, Wah Lein do Keizaal. Fus Ro Dah !
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Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 8:06 AM UTC
Remake
vi er gået fra Tindermatch til at vi chattede på Tinder til at vi blev enige om, at vi ville elske at se Monets have til at vi mødtes og drak tre øl til at vi grinte og snakkede til at vi skiltes du sagde, at du syntes det havde været hyggeligt jeg gav dig ret jeg sagde, at jeg syntes vi skulle mødes igen stilhed og jeg tvivlede hvis du altså havde lyst, for det havde jeg, sagde jeg igen og det havde du også, sagde du lykkeligvis til sidst vi krammede og jeg var teenagepinlig og kom til at træde på din fod du skulle med bus 100 og jeg med 4a vi er nu venner på facebook og det kilder i min mave og det føles rart at nogen gerne vil mig og det kan jeg virkelig godt bruge og det føles virkeligt, helt oprigtigt, rart og egentlig er jeg også klar til kærlighed og klar til romantiske pladdersamtaler om at ”du er sød” ”nej du er sød” og ”du lægger på først” ”nej du lægger på først” for det er nok kærlighed jeg savner det er nok derfor jeg ikke føler mig hjemme det er nok også derfor at jeg ingen glæde føler det er det jeg har manglet det er dig jeg har manglet (Marolle)
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Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
Første date
nyt år, ny ligegyldighed store og små problemer; alle komplicerede, alle trivielle et rod af pro et contra lister, mentalt og fysisk, om det ene og det andet én fod i opgivelse, den anden i stædighed stolthed og ære og sårbarhed at stå ved sig selv men være åben for samtale; for kompromis på samme tid ulykkelighedens øvre grænse almen smerte uldent forræderi er der virkelig et glad liv et sted? pengemani og nedarvet selviskhed umulige vilkår kamp eller flugt? hastig velovervejet et frit valg? at starte i nul pligt og lyst og splittelse dunkel hovedpine i yderkanten af hovedet, i yderkanten af eksistensen sammenstød, velmenende fornærmelse optrevlende mønster-elev (mønstret elev) starten på et år, forandring?
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Jan 5, 2016
Jan 5, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
starten
du ser yndig ud lænet op ad væggen med den ene fod vippet sidelæns med tankerne ude på tøjet men din kjole er sort så de forsvinder væk og væk er du væk på dansegulvet hvor de træder på dine tæer og kysser dine fingre mens de desperat vil have mere og du desperat vil have mindre men du tør ikke sige det højt så du får alt det du ikke vil have og du siger pænt tak og smiler og du vil gerne give igen men du har intet at give som de ikke selv kan tage
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Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 6:46 AM UTC
prinsesse
livet som en bedrift beundrelsesværdigt at grave livet op, erfaring under neglene nogle gange er det bedste man kan gøre at leve og så må erfaringerne hobe sig op og banke på og blive inviteret ind til reevaluering en gang imellem tilstrækkelighed at stikke en finger i jorden, en fod i vandet at starte et kapitel, en bog ryst livet ud i et sovende ben, levende, prikkende, knitrende tv - knasende at fungere på forskellige frekvenser er et menneskeligt vilkår at gå helt i stå og så starte op igen et mirakel du skal ikke andet end at leve
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 2:29 PM UTC
banebrydende
How did that **** Aloe Vera plant make it's lamb's eared roommated out of my cheap dollar fractured *** It's like I had the endurance, nor was even half assured that wood and pvc would help blood not bleed of my misguided wiccan made baskets and up on all over the hard wood. Not good, you should mind you understood? It'll be moisture vs. floors from before the second war, and after global warming. I'll say, it'll be, or it may, a relic should see, the folks that we'll be, after all that I may let my knees will be broke is only the folk that have life in their eyes and may might have try to be people.
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Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 8:35 PM UTC
Fooder, and Fod
Eu resolvo Tu se encrencas Ele se fod... Nós complicamos Vós fingis Eles es-trepam
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Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 4:00 PM UTC
Conjugar
"Hvem?" spørger de "Ham," siger jeg og henviser til min fod i forbinding "som har brækket min ankel," og derefter til mit bryst "og knust mit hjerte."
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Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 3:05 PM UTC
Venteværelse
I remember a joke from when I was a child Bout a darts match and a bride o Christ The sister was there collecting alms And praising the lord Got taken in spirit Stood a bit close to the board Two double tops And one in the fod The priestess struck down Right there in the pub The ref totalled up And inscribed the scoreboard One nun dead and eighty Is that what was scored?
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Oct 31, 2024
Oct 31, 2024 at 9:40 AM UTC
Martyrdom