Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"omnia" poems
The heart works for the hard work, beating constantly as targets are acquired. Shots fired, money wired and payments aplenty. Contacts signed, terms and conditions defined, it could take time, but the ***** rolling. Touch base as we reach for the stars, customers in charge, their business is ours. We roll monthly, comfortably in our own domains, renew them annually again as the pattern remains the same. Some days, it's a struggle to get out of the pit, feeling burnout, lack energy for my daily workout. The wage ain't great but the dividends could add up to millions. Some are cynical but I won't listen to those opinions. I treat my staff as people not minions. No need for incidents were a team of individuals. Passionate and driven creatures, hidden features and secret keepers. Let's get money and lets get paid, Theres a million ways we can earn more than the minimum wage. Let's raise the bar, the city is ours and the worlds not too far away... Dream tomorrow and live today.
0
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
Labor omnia vincit
Standing upon a hill, I. Under black & purple sunwheel. Standing with sword in right hand, representing morality and righteousness. Standing with mine own decapitated head in left hand, represting violent and sudden removal of Ego &&& it's prompt reclaimation. Standing soaked in the blood of the wound as my sacramental rebirth offering and cleansing. My own next level of Apotheosis. Kept alive by sheer will & & & magicks. Headless mystic standing akin to an Autosacrifical Kali Ma. Standing as Ego. Standing as Godhead. I.A.O. Standing as Headless Warrior. Omnia et Nihil. I am become The Other, the Ritual Evolution. Hail.
0
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC
Untitled
I’m indebted to the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, 4th Edition 1996 **Ab Imo Pectore A**b imo pectore, Blandae mendacia linguae, Cadit quaestio, Desunt cetera. E*st modus in rebus. Faber est quisque fortunae suae, Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti. Hic finis fandi, Interdum stultus bene loquitur? Jacta interdum est alea, Labuntur et imputantur. Magni nominis umbra, Nec scire fas est omnia, Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun, Pallida mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres; Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator, Res ipsa loquitur. Solvitur ambulando… Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis. Urbi et orbi, Vestigia nulla retrorsum.* From The Bottom Of The Heart From the bottom of the heart,  the falsehoods of a smooth tongue, The question drops, the rest is wanting. There is a balance in all things, every man is the creator of his own fate. From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return. Let there be an end to talking, for who can tell when a fool speaks the truth? The die is sometimes already cast, A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account. From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name, No one can claim to know all things, I believe that every day that dawns may be my last, Pale death knocks impartially at both poor and rich men’s houses; Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours, It’s so obvious, it speaks for itself. As the concept of motion is proven by walking… So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change. And to all the world, There’s no turning back. Ab Imo Pectore / From The Bottom Of The Heart Ab imo pectore, From the bottom of the heart, Blandae mendacia linguae,   The falsehoods of a smooth tongue, Cadit quaestio, The question drops, Desunt cetera. The rest is found wanting. Est modus in rebus, There is a balance in all things, Faber est quisque fortunae suae. Every man is the creator of his own fate. Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti. From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return.   Hic finis fandi, Let there be an end to talking, Interdum stultus bene loquitur? For who can tell when a fool speaks the truth? Jacta interdum est alea. The die is sometimes already cast, Labuntur et imputantur. A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account. Magni nominis umbra, From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name, Nec scire fas est omnia, No one can claim to know all things, Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun, I believe that every day that dawns may be my last, Pallida  mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres; Pale death knocks impartially at both poor man and rich men’s houses; Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator, Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours, Res ipsa loquitur. It’s so obvious, that it speaks for itself. Solvitur ambulando… As the concept of motion is proven by walking… Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis. So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change. Urbi et orbi, And to all the world, Vestigia nulla retrorsum. There’s no turning back. r10.1
0
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 6:41 PM UTC
Ab Imo Pectore / From The Bottom Of The Heart
I’m indebted to the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations, 4th Edition 1996 **Ab Imo Pectore A**b imo pectore, Blandae mendacia linguae, Cadit quaestio, Desunt cetera. E*st modus in rebus. Faber est quisque fortunae suae, Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti. Hic finis fandi, Interdum stultus bene loquitur? Jacta interdum est alea, Labuntur et imputantur. Magni nominis umbra, Nec scire fas est omnia, Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun, Pallida mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres; Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator, Res ipsa loquitur. Solvitur ambulando… Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis. Urbi et orbi, Vestigia nulla retrorsum.* From The Bottom Of The Heart From the bottom of the heart,  the falsehoods of a smooth tongue, The question drops, the rest is wanting. There is a balance in all things, every man is the creator of his own fate. From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return. Let there be an end to talking, for who can tell when a fool speaks the truth? The die is sometimes already cast, A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account. From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name, No one can claim to know all things, I believe that every day that dawns may be my last, Pale death knocks impartially at both poor and rich men’s houses; Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours, It’s so obvious, it speaks for itself. As the concept of motion is proven by walking… So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change. And to all the world, There’s no turning back. Ab Imo Pectore / From The Bottom Of The Heart Ab imo pectore, From the bottom of the heart, Blandae mendacia linguae,   The falsehoods of a smooth tongue, Cadit quaestio, The question drops, Desunt cetera. The rest is found wanting. Est modus in rebus, There is a balance in all things, Faber est quisque fortunae suae. Every man is the creator of his own fate. Gigni de nihilo nihilum, in nihilum nil posse reverti. From nothing, nothing can come, into nothing, nothing can return.   Hic finis fandi, Let there be an end to talking, Interdum stultus bene loquitur? For who can tell when a fool speaks the truth? Jacta interdum est alea. The die is sometimes already cast, Labuntur et imputantur. A moment comes and goes, and is laid to our account. Magni nominis umbra, From the smallest shadow to the mightiest name, Nec scire fas est omnia, No one can claim to know all things, Omne crede diem tibi diluxisse supremun, I believe that every day that dawns may be my last, Pallida  mors aequo pulsat pauperum tabernas regumque turres; Pale death knocks impartially at both poor man and rich men’s houses; Quid rides, mutato nominee de te fibula narrator, Don’t laugh, change the name and the story is yours, Res ipsa loquitur. It’s so obvious, that it speaks for itself. Solvitur ambulando… As the concept of motion is proven by walking… Tempora mutantur, nos et matamur in illis. So in time all things change, as we must, in time, all change. Urbi et orbi, And to all the world, Vestigia nulla retrorsum. There’s no turning back. r10.1
Continue reading...
85
With false hopes and dreams I stand here waiting for you To fulfill your vows
0
Feb 8, 2024
Feb 8, 2024 at 8:40 AM UTC
Omnia Vincit Amor
What is so powerful As to chain man’s heart to earth Chasing after fleeting things Yet as man chases His hearts desires Trying To break the mesh Stubbornly holding on To that which forms his life All he suceeds in doing Is destroying his flesh ‘Vanitus vanitatum et omnia vanitas’
0
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
Vanity of vanities
You see. We all have them Either confused Or Misunderstood Now I have fallen in love Not because I am reckless And someone Who loves and throws things away Nooooo That's a confusion I have fallen in love Because of self less respect And because I awe And admire you I respect you I not just yearn I want you To have the best Hope you do Remember That love Conquers All Amor vincit omnia
0
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 1:12 AM UTC
Confusions and misunderstanding
Carpe diem/A poem written in very odd Latin!! Carpe Diem, Angelus obscurus suni, Quaque nocte, diglossios, Pavor Nocturnus,metus, Sominum, Scribo carmen poeta, Vita amnia fides, Omni vincit omnia! Well that was fine fun ** Full permission granted to those who wish to laugh!! For,I believe I have written, ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Seize the day, (I know that's right), I am the dark angel, gloomy, Every night I don't sleep, because I have breathing difficulties!, fear, leads to night terrors, daydreams, writing poems, Life and trust, Love conquers all! _____________________________________________________________________________________ Kind regards, Livvi, Apologies for the somewhat odd content!! Couldn't work out suitable phrases!!
0
Aug 26, 2013
Aug 26, 2013 at 7:20 AM UTC
Carpe Diem!
Let's steal my father's car even though I don't have my license yet even though you're not allowed to drive in this country. Let's run away to a place where your parents aren't fighting where your mother is healthy where my family isn't toxic where I'm not burdened with crushing responsibilities. Let's roam endlessly under the stars with only the moon to keep us company; let's escape to a place where the cops won't pull us over where only you and I will matter; let's escape to a time when you and I can happen. Let's drive away to a place where our laughter will resonate for miles around; where your face will bathe in starlight; where we can be the only lovers left alive in the galaxy; where your soft lips can touch mine again; where your fingers can draw patterns all over my skin with invisible paint; where we can fight until we make out: your lips my hips your hands my hands; let's run away to a place where nothing else matters; to a time when we can forget about the world. Let's escape and paint the world anew in screaming color, in bright lights, in loud sounds; let's leave all fears behind because you've been hurt and I've been hurt but I've had enough of being wary, I've had enough of guarding myself. Let's steal my father's car and run away together to a time and place when and where together exists. I'm sick and tired of this pride, Of building walls around us, I don't believe in amori vincit omnia but maybe I can warm your heart up and you can stitch my scars up and maybe this will be enough.
0
Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 5:38 AM UTC
runaways
Let's steal my father's car even though I don't have my license yet even though you're not allowed to drive in this country. Let's run away to a place where your parents aren't fighting where your mother is healthy where my family isn't toxic where I'm not burdened with crushing responsibilities. Let's roam endlessly under the stars with only the moon to keep us company; let's escape to a place where the cops won't pull us over where only you and I will matter; let's escape to a time when you and I can happen. Let's drive away to a place where our laughter will resonate for miles around; where your face will bathe in starlight; where we can be the only lovers left alive in the galaxy; where your soft lips can touch mine again; where your fingers can draw patterns all over my skin with invisible paint; where we can fight until we make out: your lips my hips your hands my hands; let's run away to a place where nothing else matters; to a time when we can forget about the world. Let's escape and paint the world anew in screaming color, in bright lights, in loud sounds; let's leave all fears behind because you've been hurt and I've been hurt but I've had enough of being wary, I've had enough of guarding myself. Let's steal my father's car and run away together to a time and place when and where together exists. I'm sick and tired of this pride, Of building walls around us, I don't believe in amori vincit omnia but maybe I can warm your heart up and you can stitch my scars up and maybe this will be enough.
Continue reading...
52
I read about the how and the why and the where and the when of love and rarely see plain words that show the range of reaction of love made manifest giddy night time singing to the moon babbling inanities to all the friends who make time to listen, scribbled words as blind offerings never posted, damp misery crying to a nighttime pillow salt tears falling into your morning coffee and nighttime soup and the worst looking up at the window where the lover lives deaf and blind to you below and yet I know all those who have been out on that limb and have come back are rarely defeated and quickly set out to once again gamble in the crapshoot called love
0
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 2:44 PM UTC
amor vincit omnia - love conquers all
Love means: no surrender; No weapons thrown to the ground, Don Quixote charging windmills, Just to knock the giants down. Love means: no more evils; No more swallowed poison pills, Men taking deadly medicine, But it won’t cure the chills. Love means: coming back again; Never having to abstain, From every sweet indulgence, You never can contain. Love means: the Heart’s evince; A radiance not know here since, A true mind took the blade, And the bodkin took the prince. Love means: no masquerade; All our truth on Parade, You don’t have to take the cross, But you can’t stop the crusade. Love means: No more loss; All deep chasms bridged across. You can still blow out the candle, But you can’t switch it off. Love means: souls entangled; Entwined as dangling bangles, Draw about your neck, All other feeling strangled. Love means: complete respect; Unconditionally, you needn’t check. Undeniably, we all need it. Unconsciously, you feel effects. Love means: The grand idea; Conquering without fear. And until Maria returns to Judea, The truth is: Amor vincit omnia.
0
Aug 30, 2010
Aug 30, 2010 at 4:22 PM UTC
Love Means
Dance and sing, And grieve no more. Through Orion, Find refuge from the shore. Let courage be your Oar, Let passion be your sail. Wisdom and truth. Can guide your deep hearts yearning. Through all trevail. Stay your soul, And leave my heart its song. Stay your hand, The journey may be long. And when we part, And sorrows can be swayed. Remember when, And let your heart be staid. Omnia Sol, Temperat.
0
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 9:48 AM UTC
Omnia Sol
*Omnia *** pretio.* The door slammed like a gunshot. His life had just left him. No respite. Now he had to learn how to live with a whole new life. *It's always something.*
0
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 5:41 AM UTC
Existential Divorce
We don't play dumb because it's not a game and truly very lame. We don't play blind because a few wants those eyes but if you want to, then pay the price. We don't play tease because we're not dumb nor blind of the truths that's here. But if I change my mind I guess it's still and will always be a NO. I'd build up defenses with no words to throw. All the obvious has been laid. Haply stories has to be said. So this is the battle I should face, to a place where I'd surely leave a trace. If the crowd should understand or if i choose to stay away; I was too weak to speak and say but all the decisions are beyond what I can withstand. I do not hit the blocks just to prove I was right. because deliberations has been truly my everyday fight. What takes me aback is rather the truth. But what scares me more is the possible fruit. Yet the story that never ends seems to be a history that never bends. Now I choose not to be scared. Vincit Omnia Veritas, Amicus.
0
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
A Matter of Truth
The power of love Is a burning crusade Started in a heart That is ablaze Burning with passion For the sharing of lovers' days The roads are tough But together they move on The mountains are high But their arms are strong Life's never easy But together they know That they'll find paradise
0
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 12:02 AM UTC
Amor Vincit Omnia
The feelings I have for you are strong But I'm scared that you might treat me wrong But my love for you has been here for so long I guess I've been feeling this way for eternity Amor Vincit Omnia Enim Corda
0
Sep 21, 2015
Sep 21, 2015 at 10:40 AM UTC
Amor vincit omnia enim corda(Love Conquers All Hearts)
Just because you did Not notice does not mean I handled it well
0
Mar 5, 2024
Mar 5, 2024 at 3:08 PM UTC
Omnia Causa Fiunt
Do you Love me? I wanna Love you more.. How can I love you more? I Love my perfume on your skin Your perfume on mine You magic Individual.. You! Soldier Of Love. You my eternal flame.. Burning All my sorrows away.. I'm a wild crystal wave rushing on your skin.. Roses Wines and broken Chains Reminiscence of our love Victory An Angel of Love whispering harmonious melodies we can't ignore There's more than this Theres always more More Beauty More Truth More freedom More Responsibility More Miracles More Divine Acts More You More Me mon Amour..
0
Nov 21, 2014
Nov 21, 2014 at 10:49 AM UTC
Amor Omnia
"THE BREAKDOWN COMES WHEN YOU STOP CONTROLLING YOURSELF / AND WANT THE RELEASE OF A BLOODBATH" - JENNY HOLZER I. Vanitas Vanitatum [The stage is set: a paper moon against a starless, greyscale sky. GINSBERG howls. He's nostalgic for all he'd assumed was forgotten; desperate to never recall it again. His numbered days are manufactured: ELIOT reclines, watching the world end.] CHORUS OF PROPHETS: In our own sins we trusted, both in essence and in nature. Hell was never an inferno: it is an echo chamber. We have nothing (-- we have nothing --) but maxims and jumbled alphabets and lightly-sparkling bitterness when the cork pops feebly from the bottle; (-- nothing! --) dripping saltine hate. We've lived large and small, been tiny and tall; always filling too much space in a too-big room where our presence is ironically scarce. There is nothing for you here, bar vacant lungs and river water -- take a breath and join us                                in sinking to                                             (sinking!) the                                                (sinking!) bottom                                                   (sinking,) of                                                         (sinking...) the                                                                            Styx. II. Et Omnia Vanitas [Enter PLATH, SEXTON, WOOLF, BYRON, DICKINSON and VARIOUS PHARMACEUTICAL BRAND REPRESENTATIVES.] You know not what you could be but merely what you are and that alone is traumatic enough. Taste it, a slice at a time: the disillusionment from having raised your hopes beyond rotting in the soil, the anger upon realising this was your own fault and all you want to do is scream, the bargaining, the denial, the scream (you were not born to live). The gradual processing. The scream! Scream at the moon and scream at the walls and scream into pillows and howl and wail and hack away at the flesh and screech until plastic surroundings melt and it is only you and the void you willed upon yourself. III. Epitaph (What Now?) [A white-fur baby seal is camouflaged upon the ice and, eyes closed, fools itself into thinking it survived.] What happens next is no act of evil: this is survival of the fittest. We are bottom-rung of the food chain and starving predators need to eat. [We lick the ground and taste defeat.] Ruby poppies reach heavenward -- small birds take their maiden flights. I shrivel, putrid in the soil, in the winter of my life.
0
Aug 29, 2019
Aug 29, 2019 at 7:44 PM UTC
The Poet's Despair Is Not A Work Of Art
"THE BREAKDOWN COMES WHEN YOU STOP CONTROLLING YOURSELF / AND WANT THE RELEASE OF A BLOODBATH" - JENNY HOLZER I. Vanitas Vanitatum [The stage is set: a paper moon against a starless, greyscale sky. GINSBERG howls. He's nostalgic for all he'd assumed was forgotten; desperate to never recall it again. His numbered days are manufactured: ELIOT reclines, watching the world end.] CHORUS OF PROPHETS: In our own sins we trusted, both in essence and in nature. Hell was never an inferno: it is an echo chamber. We have nothing (-- we have nothing --) but maxims and jumbled alphabets and lightly-sparkling bitterness when the cork pops feebly from the bottle; (-- nothing! --) dripping saltine hate. We've lived large and small, been tiny and tall; always filling too much space in a too-big room where our presence is ironically scarce. There is nothing for you here, bar vacant lungs and river water -- take a breath and join us                                in sinking to                                             (sinking!) the                                                (sinking!) bottom                                                   (sinking,) of                                                         (sinking...) the                                                                            Styx. II. Et Omnia Vanitas [Enter PLATH, SEXTON, WOOLF, BYRON, DICKINSON and VARIOUS PHARMACEUTICAL BRAND REPRESENTATIVES.] You know not what you could be but merely what you are and that alone is traumatic enough. Taste it, a slice at a time: the disillusionment from having raised your hopes beyond rotting in the soil, the anger upon realising this was your own fault and all you want to do is scream, the bargaining, the denial, the scream (you were not born to live). The gradual processing. The scream! Scream at the moon and scream at the walls and scream into pillows and howl and wail and hack away at the flesh and screech until plastic surroundings melt and it is only you and the void you willed upon yourself. III. Epitaph (What Now?) [A white-fur baby seal is camouflaged upon the ice and, eyes closed, fools itself into thinking it survived.] What happens next is no act of evil: this is survival of the fittest. We are bottom-rung of the food chain and starving predators need to eat. [We lick the ground and taste defeat.] Ruby poppies reach heavenward -- small birds take their maiden flights. I shrivel, putrid in the soil, in the winter of my life.
Continue reading...
47
i want to die on the road at the hands of something beautiful i'm not quick to leave this sad place behind but the beauty - the scarce amount of it that's left in this cruel world - is enough to make me feel so insignificant that nothing is really worth it and nothing compares to it it was summer. nights out west were hot and dry. the highway stretched ahead of us for days; no one ahead, no one behind; just us and the road and the star-laced sky above. i kept thinking that i wanted to die here someday, under this same sky, counting stars like seconds. one-one-thousand two-one-thousand three-one-thousand four.. they really mean it when they named it death valley take one step outside and every last drop of water every last inch of hope leaves your body in that very instant the sun is angry burns every thing to a crisp black, blacker, blackest you ever seen the grand canyon? nah, man. not pictures. seen it. been there. looked over the edge down at the drying river below. stood a little to close for comfort, hungry condors above you waiting for you to fall. sound scary? you can catch yourself. mama nature has a way of granting mercy – whether you want her to or not. she'll catch you when you fall, baby. she always will. let me tell you how powerful this world is to die by the hands of it god what a beautiful thing the last thing they see are the rocks and the niagara falls crashing over them it has the power to possess to hypnotize to seize carpe omnia, baby did you know that the most beautiful place in america is the most deadly? it's so deceptive; a sleeping god yet to unleash his wrath. the beauty with the ability to burn, to scar, to **** deceptive splendor in pools of sulfur, deep blue like sapphire bleaching rocks starch-white and murdering trees. i saw a bison laying at the edge, the smell of burning fur hung heavy in the air. everything there was dead and it was a tragically beautiful thing.
0
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
by nature's hands (2/27/12)
i want to die on the road at the hands of something beautiful i'm not quick to leave this sad place behind but the beauty - the scarce amount of it that's left in this cruel world - is enough to make me feel so insignificant that nothing is really worth it and nothing compares to it it was summer. nights out west were hot and dry. the highway stretched ahead of us for days; no one ahead, no one behind; just us and the road and the star-laced sky above. i kept thinking that i wanted to die here someday, under this same sky, counting stars like seconds. one-one-thousand two-one-thousand three-one-thousand four.. they really mean it when they named it death valley take one step outside and every last drop of water every last inch of hope leaves your body in that very instant the sun is angry burns every thing to a crisp black, blacker, blackest you ever seen the grand canyon? nah, man. not pictures. seen it. been there. looked over the edge down at the drying river below. stood a little to close for comfort, hungry condors above you waiting for you to fall. sound scary? you can catch yourself. mama nature has a way of granting mercy – whether you want her to or not. she'll catch you when you fall, baby. she always will. let me tell you how powerful this world is to die by the hands of it god what a beautiful thing the last thing they see are the rocks and the niagara falls crashing over them it has the power to possess to hypnotize to seize carpe omnia, baby did you know that the most beautiful place in america is the most deadly? it's so deceptive; a sleeping god yet to unleash his wrath. the beauty with the ability to burn, to scar, to **** deceptive splendor in pools of sulfur, deep blue like sapphire bleaching rocks starch-white and murdering trees. i saw a bison laying at the edge, the smell of burning fur hung heavy in the air. everything there was dead and it was a tragically beautiful thing.
Continue reading...
42
A beating heart, a dream A dying soul, shedding tear Fueled with anger, blasphemes A cast out, breeding hate Not against man, not against God Just a selfless strife On the ways of man and the ways of God Death is just one breath away, While living far from lies, True to self, and the others' lives Vision so bright, invisible to man But to this product, Of blind hatred. "Omnia mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis; Tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis." Eater of Gods, this creature will be The tortured, tolerator of pain All his dreams gone, dead in vain Yet breathing, to take your breath away Not to avenge, but to clear All the fake that is in us.
0
Aug 17, 2020
Aug 17, 2020 at 2:27 PM UTC
A Walking Disease
The horizon of the sky falls beyond your way So take a breathe and listen to the music pound for pound  ounce to ounce Love like its the end of the World And make the best out of it Or else you will regret it for the rest of your life. Every single thought we always created in our mind Sometimes we lost through it Just like the other day or a few days ago But we always end up going back and forth to the place that we never expected The moment that we says "truth or dare" Its like a piece of a living proof We hide and uncover stuff We laugh and we cry We make friends and better or worst enemy But we always end up loving each other Hugging and kissing The lost powerful soul,spirit of ours We electrified the love that we always found So take me there and  From this moment  I'll Take Your  Place As  Mine Love begets
0
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC
Omnia Vincit Amor
Teal equinox drifting over the valley tangled in a crystal chain of stars. Ghosts of the universe spiral endlessly. Mind in a shell of illusions we’ve made; iron, earth, and air. Dawn’s haloed sky stretches over the mountain locked in a veil of silver fog. Jewels of infinity cradled in our hands. Knots of wind come unraveled by the night; salt, sun, and gold.
0
Mar 20, 2023
Mar 20, 2023 at 3:02 PM UTC
Omnia
-mors vincit omnia The many old who live alone must pay attention, take care. Any misstep might hasten their descent. Tumble down the lonely steps. Lie waiting in your own filth, unable to reach a phone. What loneliness must attend such a fall? If only we could choose. Proud Aeschylus was struck down by a falling tortoise. That’s not too bad. To be hit by a bus while lighting one last lethal cigarette. That’s even better. In bed, at ninety, chugging toward one, final gasp of ****** Even better yet. But not in a strange bed hooked up to noisy, indifferent machines, poisoned by chemotherapy, surrounded by terrified friends and family struck dumb, embarrassed and uncomfortable, stunned by their own fears. Best on your own two feet. Like a soldier before the bullet. Like a Viking struck down in battle. Like you might have even mattered. But there is no choosing. Decrepitude is woven in our DNA. You cannot escape the inevitable carnage of mortality, but you can be very careful where you place your feet.
0
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 6:45 AM UTC
Steps
"Amor Vincit Omnia (Love conquers all)" M. Caravaggio He said: Turn back the drapes, this requires an early morning light.... He said: How rare...that pervasive primary color. He said: There was dew left on the skin from the bath. He said: I have painted holy men! He said: The brush wasn't wet enough. He said: Notice that triangle of sable below the navel? A difficult color... He said: I never saw Matthew and Paul like this. He said: There's no mistaking his aura. He said: Turn more to the right. He said: If I were a woman-- I would love him too.
0
Nov 3, 2017
Nov 3, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC
Caravaggio: A Study of Man Bathing