st64 Apr 2014
The poverty of yesterday was less squalid than the poverty we purchase with our industry today.
Fortunes were smaller then as well.
(The Elderly Lady)

After a while you learn the subtle difference
Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
And company doesn’t mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
And presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes open

With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn…
That even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong
And you really do have worth…
And you learn and learn…

With every good-bye you learn.


As I think of the many myths, there is one that is very harmful, and that is the myth of countries. I mean, why should I think of myself as being an Argentine, and not a Chilean, and not an Uruguayan.
I don't know really.
All of those myths that we impose on ourselves — and they make for hatred, for war, for enmity — are very harmful.
Well, I suppose in the long run, governments and countries will die out and we'll be just, well, cosmopolitans.*    --J. L. Borges
Jorge Luis Borges (24 August 1899 – 14 June 1986) was an Argentine writer who is considered one of the foremost literary figures of the 20th century.
Most famous in the English speaking world for his short stories and fictive essays, Borges was also a poet, critic, translator and man of letters.

Words by Jorge Luis Borges

"All things have been given to us for a purpose, and an artist must feel this more intensely. All that happens to us, including our humiliations, our misfortunes, our embarrassments, all is given to us as raw material, as clay, so that we may shape our art." ----- J.L. Borges

"Doubt is one of the names of intelligence."

"May Heaven exist, even if my place is Hell.
Let me be tortured and battered and annihilated,
but let there be one instant, one creature,
wherein thy enormous Library may find its justification."

"Dictatorships foster oppression, dictatorships foster servitude, dictatorships foster cruelty; more abominable is the fact that they foster idiocy.
(Statement to the Argentine Society of Letters, c.1946)

I would define the baroque as that style that deliberately exhausts (or tries to exhaust) its own possibilities, and that borders on self-caricature.
The baroque is the final stage in all art, when art flaunts and squanders its resources.
(A Universal History of Iniquity, preface to the 1954 edition)

Do you want to see what human eyes have never seen?
Look at the moon.
Do you want to hear what ears have never heard?
Listen to the bird's cry.
Do you want to touch what hands have never touched?
Touch the earth.
Verily I say that God is about to create the world.
(The Theologians)

Years of solitude had taught him that, in one's memory, all days tend to be the same, but that there is not a day, not even in jail or in the hospital, which does not bring surprises, which is not a translucent network of minimal surprises.
(The Waiting)

Being with you and not being with you is the only way I have to measure time.
(The Threatened)

Truly fine poetry must be read aloud. A good poem does not allow itself to be read in a low voice or silently. If we can read it silently, it is not a valid poem: a poem demands pronunciation.
Poetry always remembers that it was an oral art before it was a written art. It remembers that it was first song.
(The Divine Comedy) (1977)

Time carries him as the river carries
A leaf in the downstream water.
No matter. The enchanted one insists
And shapes God with delicate geometry.
Since his illness, since his birth,
He goes on constructing God with the word.
The mightiest love was granted him
Love that does not expect to be loved.
(Baruch Spinoza)
jazz rocks Apr 2014
"lessons can be learned but without mistakes it can never be a better experience."
blythe Aug 2014
In life,
It is essential
That you learn
How to be strong enough
To let go;
And wise enough
To wait
For what you deserve.
Hanna Kelley Jun 2015
sometimes you just need to let go

like a bird
You will learn to fly
On the way down
If you believe
You will survive
And live to be stronger
And more confident
Than you ever were
S O P H I E Apr 2016
something i believe with all of my heart
the exact moment you are hurt, you hurt
without warning you are torn apart
you hurt yourself and those around you
darkness isn't something you can easily outsmart
but i will say piece by piece and day by day
you will learn to heal and your life will restart
((people who are hurt, hurt other people
= "hurt people hurt people"))
White Lphant Jan 2015
I learned to mess around with you.
I learned to say what i feel
what it hurts me the most is what you've done.
Maybe I'm crazy to trying to forgive you.
Maybe i just love you to much

*i love you
melina padron Dec 2014
Textbooks tell me 

Nature is evolving 

Changing at such a slow 

And steady pace

That we cannot see the difference

From day to day.

I think-

I want so much more for myself

I want to be a hero

And a dreamer 

A believer

For myself.

I want to be something better
All for myself.

I get frustrated when 

I am forced to wait 

For the things that I want

For anything at all.

I think-

I am evolving at a slow

And sometimes steady pace

One day I will be

An ocean where there once

Was trees 

Like forgetting to crawl 

And learning to walk on two feet

I am changing.

It will show eventually.
xJaden Tx Dec 2014
Life's like a pen,
Because once you make a mistake,
You can't erase it.
However, everyone learns from their mistakes,
No one is perfect.
So if you mess up,
Fix it by rewriting it.
Danielle Shorr Jan 2015
Tell me when it was
The first time you learned to hate yourself
The first time you tripped over your own fault lines
And started taking caution in every step
When did it happen?
Was it at 10?
When your shaking hands couldn't hold still
And the shame of them drove you into isolation
Maybe it's because others noticed
Or because they did their best to make it clear you were different
I don't think you know
That the rhythm you had and still have
Is unlike the rest
It is crooked and uneven but beautiful nonetheless
You didn't know it then
And accepting unsteadiness is easier said than done

Tell me when it was
The first time you learned to hurt yourself
Could it have been at 13?
When the weight of too much pressure motivated you to lose it
To the point where bones stuck out more than your voice
Loud girl became quiet that year
And then even more so the next
When your changing body didn't morph the way you would have liked it to
Left you shaped uncomfortably
A little too top heavy
The kind that drew unwanted attention
At a time when standing out was the last thing you desired
You turned skin into a battlefield into remnants from too many losses
Wrists became front lines, then hips, then neck until
You became too much destruction to keep the war going
You learned that it is impossible to win in a fight against yourself

Tell me when it was
The first time you learned to forget yourself
Was it at 15?
When the sacrifice of your body wasn't enough
To make a careless boy love you
It was a silly thing to give it all away
When you barely had enough of you for yourself
Your efforts changed after that
Trying too hard turned into not trying at all
Feeling too much turned into feeling nothing at all
You learned to repress and erase
And start over in the morning
You have been heavy from trying to hide away for so long

Tell me when it is
The first time you learn to love yourself
Will finally be after all of the years of disappointment?
Of self-deprecation?
When you realize you deserve more
Than to be the dust swept off to the side
Deserve better than to be an ashed out version of your potential
You were not meant to be wasted
You were not meant to be washed out and pushed down
You were meant to stand tall

The first time you learn to love yourself
Will be when you realize flaw is inevitable
When your skin turns itself different colors
And nothing can be done to change it
You will then learn acceptance

The first time you learn to love yourself
Will be when you stop comparing
When you look in the mirror and see only yourself in the reflection
Nobody else
You were meant to be here
You were meant to embrace it all
This body
This skin
This image
The only one you will ever have
The same one you will have to love
And eventually you will,
You'll learn how to.
Ashley Somebody Apr 2014
I want to forget
That you even existed,
But know what I learned.
Zachary Nov 2012
She's the one that's is seen as time,
the old question we as men ask ourselves,
what do i have to do to make her mine.
We grow up and see the many joys of the world, but as we in turn grasp the thought of joys we truly seek that girl,
the glimpse of beauty I seem to see,
is what we as young boys want to flee,
and maybe it's right that we fear the fate,
that love implants it's first tastes on our firsts dates.
but maybe sometimes we should just run away to ditch,
but dammit she's so innocent she can't type the word b**.
Bianca Reyes Mar 2016
If you dig in the cave
Filled with your mistakes
You will find wisdom
Shimmering like gold
Shared on Hello Poetry on March 8th, 2016
Copywrite under Bianca Reyes
All rights reserved

Blah blah blah

To learn the Transport by the Pain
As Blind Men learn the sun!
To die of thirst—suspecting
That Brooks in Meadows run!

To stay the homesick—homesick feet
Upon a foreign shore—
Haunted by native lands, the while—
And blue—beloved air!

This is the Sovereign Anguish!
This—the signal woe!
These are the patient “Laureates”
Whose voices—trained—below—

Ascend in ceaseless Carol—
Inaudible, indeed,
To us—the duller scholars
Of the Mysterious Bard!
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