Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"sunt" poems
"...Igitur quantitates relativae non sunt eae ipsae quantitates quarum nomina prae se ferunt, sed earum mensurae illae sensibilis (verae an errantes) quibus vulgus loco mensuratarum utitur..." --D. Isaaci Newtoni. Time did not relent under the force of speculation. The only trees that could be seen were in the photographs beyond the reach of the faltering jeep. Although it was claimed that such a rugged machine would endure the longer journeys, truth explained that the truck had grown old. It had a ferocious grill to protect the radiator. cos ln q ( u ) d P d e = mu chi v ( w ) d ( y , par Z ) d ( x , hyp N ) . The sense of protection fended off any result of error on the highway. Basic footing expressed the hardness, and the light, floating away, came from electric lamps, like eyes, glowing through dust. The name of the purpose implied that sensitive eyes disliked the sudden splash of illumination. It was true; the passengers did not like the expectation of more to come. The new engines were stronger and ran cooler.
0
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
The Eyes Of The Trees
By Arcassin Burnham she wont mind, she wont mind, shooting from ceiling, i aint trying to catch no feelings, im just looking for, someone to give me a good feeling, attending to care people, waiting outside the party, but, im just too chill and you perfectly willing, she wont mind, but the parties and the shows, i can not bare, i think i need an open dose, of how beautiful when she stares, their just overthere waiting for me to get embarrassed, but you are here because of me, and the people attending to care duh! she wont mind, careless thought of commitment, and look at how the bright lights are, didnt get the message when you sunt it, maybe that was a start, In the blue sky , You see a moon, Thinking of the day you die, Hopefully no eternal doom, She won't mind.
0
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
"Strobe Evening"
Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna in die illa tremenda quando coeli movendi sunt et terra dum veneris judicare saeculum per ignem. Tremens factus sum ego et timeo, dum discussion venerit atque venture ira: quando coeli movendi sunt et terra. November 21, 1976. 11:00 P.M. With nothing he packs his suitcase, turns to his own personal prophet and watches and waits and waits, he will wait for an hour. And finally the prophet speaks in monotone, three short syllables. He opens the door, careful not to wake dad. Turning the corner, the suitcase jars the door ajar. A stirring from upstairs. Remembering the face of madness behind the pulpit behind the door, he races out, fearful of footsteps drawing louder and with them, promises of pain.
0
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
Requiem for Fred Phelps: #9– Libera me
Here as I sit At this empty café Thinking of you I remember All those moments Lost in wonder That we'll never Find again Though the world Is my oyster It's only a shell Full of memories And here by the Seine Notre-Dame casts A long lonely shadow Now, only sorrow No tomorrow There's no today for us Nothing is there For us to share But yesterday These cities may change But there always remains My obsession Through silken waters My gondola glides And the bridge, it sighs I remember All those moments Lost in wonder That we'll never Find again There's no more time for us Nothing is there For us to share But yesterdays *Ecce momenta Illa mirabilia Quae captabit In aeternum Memor Modo dolores Sunt in dies Non est reliquum Vero tantum Comminicamus Perdita* *Tous ces moments Perdus dans l'enchantement Qui ne reviendront jamais Pas d´aujourd´hui pour nous Pour nous il n´y a rien A partager Sauf le passé Tous ces moments Perdus dans l'enchantement Qui ne reviendront Jamais
0
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 6:02 AM UTC
A Song for Europe
~~~~~~English~~~~~~ Sunshine greets the pristine Dawn With rays of dancing light Misty paths of beauty...Everlasting beauty Tiny violas kissed in dew Red tulips drenched in fresh rain And trees are greener still Showing off with pride their shining leaves Dark hunter moss soaked by the waters of the creek Feels so soft and nice A little mountain stream Happily sings his morning song As he flows along forever Little birds warble sweetly to each other And fill the air with beauty Daisies dance in their cloak of pearly dew And waltz with happiness in the meadows and fields It is God Who made this lovely world And it is He that this world sings to In reverence and honor They worship Him ~~~~~Romanian~~~~~ Soarele saluta zori curat Cu raze de lumină de dans Brumos căi de frumusete...Frumuseţea veşnică Mici viole sărutat în rouă Lalele rosii ud în ploaie proaspăt Şi copacii sunt mai ecologice încă Manifestare off cu mândrie lor frunze stralucitoare Vânător de întuneric muşchi ud de apele pârâului Se simte atât de moale şi frumos Un râu de munte mic Fericit cântă cântecul său de dimineaţă Ca el curge de-a lungul pentru totdeauna Păsărele warble dulce pentru fiecare alte Şi umple aerul cu frumusetea Margarete dans în mantie lor de mărgăritar roua Şi vals cu fericirea în pajişti şi câmpuri Este Dumnezeu care a făcut această lume minunată Şi este că această lume cântă la Din respect si onoare Se închine ~Marian~
0
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 2:31 PM UTC
Morning's Serenade
* arcanum arcanarom, argumentum ad hominem animal disputans, dixi.., animal bipes implume cessante causa cessat et effectus, damnant quod non inteligunt audiatur et altera pars, hominus libenter quod volunt credunt multi famam, consientiam pauci verentur boni pastoris est tondere pecus, non deglubere bonum virum facile crederes, magnum libenter non omnes qui habent citharam sunt citharoedi currente calamo, cave quid dicis, quando, et cui gigni de nihilo nihil, in nihilum nil posse reverti ** ..love always...* عرفان بن يوسف © AH 14/03/1432 **
0
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 11:28 AM UTC
..saepe creat molles aspera spina roses...
By Arcassin Burnham Stuck in the middle of whats right and wrong, I was dieing in the fear of needing love, The love so strong, ItS kind hard not to be a **** With all these ******* around ya, Talk is cheap, running their mouths be too quick, And lame writers making disses that look like bad raps and essay papers, It will only offend us , it you make us, The mafia is whack as **** And melz recruited ******** You really think I'm giving up, Like ******* on striPper poles, You all are an embarrassment, to poets everywhere, I should delete my HP for how you poorly known, I can take the feeling out your flows and make it an extraordinare, I don't need it anyway I got website of my own, With an audience on facebook, That expect more from me soon, Trying to check my page every now and aagain, To see if I'm dissing you, Are you that scared, So unprepared, Fakely incompatible, With all affairs, I swear I would drop names, but y'all Dead to me, Your not there, Where did you go, Where are you words, Please use your tongue, No further questions can't be sunt, Gave you life, You wanna breathe, Stoping you from not doing so.
0
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
"DC5 (Decision Creating #5)"
Amor , amoris love Servet me in aciem Est vita aeterna, Beautiful Beautiful  smiling smoke My love is very sick The tears keep me ballistic "Don't worry," She spoke Her proud figure curls up I remain by her side Even though plague's arm opened wide I offered her my cup I'm crying again I don't want her to leave Nor spend an eternity in grief I hold her close to her parents disdain Extinctus est Mihi Ne derelinquas me Perniciosasque tristitia Manete in aeternum Please get better There are demons in  my mind Our dreams they blind Stay awake, read my love letter Sadistic narcissistic fools You idly gossip Her fate you toss-up Poisoned are thy souls Ego solet abire Te amo In aeterno praeteriti temporis They want me to flee They want me to turn my back But deathly dreams surely are black I ignore their plea I watch my love fade away Take me instead You can rest easy if I'm dead Your soul shall stay Et immarcescibilem Vos postulo ut vivat in Memento digni sunt Vale, mea Perspicuus caliginoso loco hoc Fidem tibi habeo Ne fleveris Et nihilominus esset melior aptus.............
0
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 5:26 AM UTC
Extinctus est Mihi
In this world, you live asleep like the dead Distorted dreams through a prism unclean The colors your see are not what they seem How can you see with your eyes wide shut? Kiss the demons at their feet Praise them for their artful lies Let them lull you back to sleep Singing sweet dark lullabies In mundo vivunt, somno velut mortui A deformato per somnium inmundum carcer See your colores non sunt quod videntur Quomodo clausis oculis vestris wide? Osculamini pedes eorum daemonum Laus eorum est artificiosa Ipsi vos ad somnum otium Cantus dulcis tenebris lullabies --Christian J. Clark
0
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 10:11 PM UTC
Ambrosia
We are strangers, strangers we remain, From distant worlds, apart we came. You call to me, I call to you, But silence answers, cutting through. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, Our thoughts diverge like morning dew. Alive we are, yet still we stare, As if from graves, from shadows there. I’m not your loss, nor you are mine, Like clouds, we drift through endless time. Wherever I go, wherever you’ll be, We’re at the edges, lost at sea. Yet yesterday felt near and bright— You held my hand; your voice was light. When love was endless, pure, and true, And I was me, and you were you. When whispers spoke of tender care, And hearts embraced in love’s repair. When vows were shared, no lies between, And strangers we had never been. I (Alternative translation) STRANGERS We are strangers, strangers through, From worlds apart, both old and new. I call to you, you call to me, Yet silence falls like waves at sea. You do not know me, nor I know you, Our thoughts like paths that never grew. Alive we stand, yet lost we seem, As if we lived within a dream. I do not miss you, nor you miss me, Two fleeting clouds the wind sets free. Where you may go, where I may roam, We’re at the edges, far from home. But yesterday, it feels so near, I held your hand, your voice sincere. When love was boundless, bold, and true, And I was me, and you were you. When whispers shared what hearts could feel, And hands embraced with love so real. When we were one, no space between, And strangers we had never been. II (Literal translation) STRANGERS We are strangers, strangers we remain, From different worlds we come. When you call me, when I call you, We cannot hear, we cannot hear. You do not know me, I do not know you, I have one thought, and you another. You are alive, and I am alive, But we look at each other as if from graves. I don’t miss you; you won’t miss me, We are two clouds driven by the wind. Wherever I am, wherever you are, We are at the edges of the earth. But, it seems, yesterday there was a day, You remember it; I remember it, too, When we could not stop loving each other, Believing we would love forever. When I whispered how dear you were, And we held each other’s hands with love, When you told me that you loved me, And we were not strangers at all. III (Original poem, Romanian) STRĂINI Suntem străini, străini suntem, Din diferite lumi venim. Când tu mă chemi, când eu te chem Nu ne-auzim, nu ne-auzim. Tu nu mă ştii, eu nu te ştiu, Un gând am eu şi tu alt gând. Eşti vie tu şi eu sunt viu, Dar ne privim ca din mormânt. Eu nu-ţi lipsesc, tu nu-mi lipseşti, Suntem doi nori mânaţi de vânt. Oriunde-aş fi, oriunde eşti, Suntem la margini de pământ. Dar, parcă ieri, a fost o zi, Ţii minte tu, ţin minte eu, Când nu-ncetam a ne iubi, Crezînd că ne-om iubi mereu. Când îţi şopteam ce dragă-mi eşti Şi ne strângeam cu drag de mâini, Când îmi spuneai că mă iubeşti Şi nu eram deloc străini.
0
Nov 24, 2024
Nov 24, 2024 at 3:36 PM UTC
Strangers
We are strangers, strangers we remain, From distant worlds, apart we came. You call to me, I call to you, But silence answers, cutting through. You don’t know me, I don’t know you, Our thoughts diverge like morning dew. Alive we are, yet still we stare, As if from graves, from shadows there. I’m not your loss, nor you are mine, Like clouds, we drift through endless time. Wherever I go, wherever you’ll be, We’re at the edges, lost at sea. Yet yesterday felt near and bright— You held my hand; your voice was light. When love was endless, pure, and true, And I was me, and you were you. When whispers spoke of tender care, And hearts embraced in love’s repair. When vows were shared, no lies between, And strangers we had never been. I (Alternative translation) STRANGERS We are strangers, strangers through, From worlds apart, both old and new. I call to you, you call to me, Yet silence falls like waves at sea. You do not know me, nor I know you, Our thoughts like paths that never grew. Alive we stand, yet lost we seem, As if we lived within a dream. I do not miss you, nor you miss me, Two fleeting clouds the wind sets free. Where you may go, where I may roam, We’re at the edges, far from home. But yesterday, it feels so near, I held your hand, your voice sincere. When love was boundless, bold, and true, And I was me, and you were you. When whispers shared what hearts could feel, And hands embraced with love so real. When we were one, no space between, And strangers we had never been. II (Literal translation) STRANGERS We are strangers, strangers we remain, From different worlds we come. When you call me, when I call you, We cannot hear, we cannot hear. You do not know me, I do not know you, I have one thought, and you another. You are alive, and I am alive, But we look at each other as if from graves. I don’t miss you; you won’t miss me, We are two clouds driven by the wind. Wherever I am, wherever you are, We are at the edges of the earth. But, it seems, yesterday there was a day, You remember it; I remember it, too, When we could not stop loving each other, Believing we would love forever. When I whispered how dear you were, And we held each other’s hands with love, When you told me that you loved me, And we were not strangers at all. III (Original poem, Romanian) STRĂINI Suntem străini, străini suntem, Din diferite lumi venim. Când tu mă chemi, când eu te chem Nu ne-auzim, nu ne-auzim. Tu nu mă ştii, eu nu te ştiu, Un gând am eu şi tu alt gând. Eşti vie tu şi eu sunt viu, Dar ne privim ca din mormânt. Eu nu-ţi lipsesc, tu nu-mi lipseşti, Suntem doi nori mânaţi de vânt. Oriunde-aş fi, oriunde eşti, Suntem la margini de pământ. Dar, parcă ieri, a fost o zi, Ţii minte tu, ţin minte eu, Când nu-ncetam a ne iubi, Crezînd că ne-om iubi mereu. Când îţi şopteam ce dragă-mi eşti Şi ne strângeam cu drag de mâini, Când îmi spuneai că mă iubeşti Şi nu eram deloc străini.
Continue reading...
89
These breathless moments Dreams flutter boundless Pinioned on stellar winds Constellations rise in indigo eyes And I pull in spinning Euphoric aspirations glow In vertigo as the accretion heats Birthing a new universe I am astounded by the light Interminable epochs Found me comatose At the divination point The juncture of the void and life I dance the staccato steps of departure Memory of thin skin disappears Beatific vision shimmers In glistened entreaties Lacrimae sunt arma femina. Console me with forever The emulation of flight defines me Zenith in your twilight skies On Heaven's breath I rise *tears are the weapons of woman TL Boehm 2/22/08
0
Oct 19, 2013
Oct 19, 2013 at 1:08 PM UTC
These Breathless Moments
Sunt prostul lui Piaf, Șad pe marmura neagră Și nu-mi plac străinii Care vin doar pentru Morrison.
0
Apr 21, 2022
Apr 21, 2022 at 6:05 PM UTC
Père Lachaise
Ut me demergat in hoc esse Mea conscientia de in quod ibi est, nulla alternative ut vita sed ibi sunt alternative vitaes habet me sperans maybe unum die ibi numquid fomentum de hoc desolatio.
0
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 5:51 PM UTC
Spero
Tantum tempus temporis quoniam aliena femina in meo cubiculo dormivit; ecce illi quantum dulce somnus est. Quanta etiam libera somnia sunt. In alia aetate mundum certe rexit vel optimo regi in matrimonio fideliter ducta est qui iuxtus flumen psalmos luce lunae scripsit. **** me iri foras egressum et spatiatum Nihil occurit hic, nihil umquam fit. Praeterea si incedat iam volat me narrare; habeo nihil, praecipue erga quicquid erat. Viam cepi aviam qua celeres non superant; dignis praemia sunt qui verbum veritatis distinguere possunt. Hospes solus me docere potuit praeclaram orem iustitiae contemplari et videre oculum pro oculo, et dentem pro dente. Nisi duo homines in mansionem, Est nullus in viso; verem exspectant, proinde quasi ver plaustro accederet. Mundus deleretur ea nocte sed meae amicae aequum esset; illa meo cubiculo dormiret *** revenirem. Meridiano me promoveo adhuc in obscura parte viae; in angustos corruere et constans manere non possum. Alius mea ore dicit sed solum meo animo audit, calcas omnibus etiam tibi feci quibus tamen careo. Ego et ego In creatione quo ingenium alicuius nec alicui ignoscit nec excolit. Ego et ego unus alteri dicit nullus et videre imaginem meum et vivere possit. From "Bird's Nest In Your Hair" by Brian Jobe
0
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 10:03 PM UTC
Ego et Ego after Bob Dylan
I When the world freezes over, The soft glow of the computer screens will leak against a sky-black universe When everything goes on without us, Stop-lights and streetlamps will light the way For all the people who don’t look there The beast in the pit When the stores will always be empty, Vegas will ****** no one with her lights, A blinding light II Green-glow and blue-shine will cry out From their boxes in vain, to The glowing black-blue swirl of Cosmic magnificence! Humanity’s ancient projections will whimper and beg The interstellar paradise ingentis so unexplored For desperate affection and faces, drooling. III When the bottom falls off… When the bell tolls for thee… When the plug comes out from the wall…. You will not look, You will stare. Eyelids - hanging like abandoned bridges Skin - blue with the afterglow still clinging to what it caught. Sweating through your bottom Until you expire, and – then, we will cower away from the great For thine… IV et misurent pulverem super capita sua et clamaverant flentes et lugantes dicentes vae vae civitas magna in qua divites facti sunt omnes qui habent naves in mari de pretiis eius quoniam una hora desolata est User error… user error… user error… user error… user error…
0
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 11:40 AM UTC
Apocalypsis
By Arcassin Burnham Before you get here, i just want to know what your thinking, if you were sunt here, from heaven, for you to be my dear, half past eleven , just to see you tonight, try different things to get a kiss tonight, giving you some memory you wouldnt miss tonight, its teen love, i'll just pretend to hug you until you get here, tonight, Before you get here, New beginnings will take place, no time for basic fear, when you get here.
0
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 5:49 PM UTC
"Before You Get Here"
Scio hunc non Scio quod durum quid per illa verba in occulto et optima sunt Non *** Latino haec sunt idem Im 'non boken posuerunt in monumento Non sum abierunt ego autem mortuus sum, capti a verbis victima in caput meum
0
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
its in Latin
I opened the shutters of my room and the 5am morning welcomed me with dawn chorus, the bell tower stood like a giant in the mist viewed from my window, Deus movet me, the abbey toilet was empty and I filled my basin with cold water for ablutions, lavabis me sunt alba sicut nix, my cup runs over she said and laughed after *** and so did I, Dom James spoke of learning Latin for plainsong and to practise reading aloud in church and I dreaded such, nous avons un Dieu écoute the French monk said as he showed me how to lay out the vestments for Mass, George talked of the way the dawn light brightens up the abbey in mornings and I said I had seen, kiss me here she said and pointed with her finger and I did and did again, ohne Gott gibt es nichts the Austrian monk said as we walked back to the abbey after our walk on the Thursday, I brushed my hand along the brick wall in the cloister sensing the roughness and the smoothness, Hugh said the Scottish monk had funny ways liked knitting in his spare time and once played the bagpipes so I heard, why must we suffer? because here below pure Love cannot exist without suffering said St Bernadette so I read some place, un peccatore pentito the Italian monk said lo siamo anche noi, I tolled the bell for the office of Sext my stomach rumbling, we are what we repeatedly do excellence is not an act but a habit Gareth said quoting Aristotle as we sat on the beach in the abbey grounds watching the tide roll in, I counted her ribs with my tongue and she was pleased, the monk reading in the refectory read on Mary Queen of Scots in monotone his eyes scanning the pages of the book, see this she said as she undressed and I turned around and had to look.
0
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
OPENED SHUTTERS MCMLXXI.
I opened the shutters of my room and the 5am morning welcomed me with dawn chorus, the bell tower stood like a giant in the mist viewed from my window, Deus movet me, the abbey toilet was empty and I filled my basin with cold water for ablutions, lavabis me sunt alba sicut nix, my cup runs over she said and laughed after *** and so did I, Dom James spoke of learning Latin for plainsong and to practise reading aloud in church and I dreaded such, nous avons un Dieu écoute the French monk said as he showed me how to lay out the vestments for Mass, George talked of the way the dawn light brightens up the abbey in mornings and I said I had seen, kiss me here she said and pointed with her finger and I did and did again, ohne Gott gibt es nichts the Austrian monk said as we walked back to the abbey after our walk on the Thursday, I brushed my hand along the brick wall in the cloister sensing the roughness and the smoothness, Hugh said the Scottish monk had funny ways liked knitting in his spare time and once played the bagpipes so I heard, why must we suffer? because here below pure Love cannot exist without suffering said St Bernadette so I read some place, un peccatore pentito the Italian monk said lo siamo anche noi, I tolled the bell for the office of Sext my stomach rumbling, we are what we repeatedly do excellence is not an act but a habit Gareth said quoting Aristotle as we sat on the beach in the abbey grounds watching the tide roll in, I counted her ribs with my tongue and she was pleased, the monk reading in the refectory read on Mary Queen of Scots in monotone his eyes scanning the pages of the book, see this she said as she undressed and I turned around and had to look.
Continue reading...
85
The French peasant monk sharpened his scythe on a stone, des choses simples avec Dieu he said, his calloused hands did their task with simplicity, to one who has faith no explanation is necessary Thomas said, bring wine when you come she said I perform better under its power in bed that is, I watched the peasant monk as he sharpened his scythe mine was less used less blunt, omnia enim possibilia sunt apud Deum Dom James said as we brought apples to the kitchen, Gregorian chant sounded from wall to wall in the church at midday as the office of Sext began, George spoke of the chill at dawn entering the church how it got to his bones, Hugh pushed the tea trolley onto the cloister garth after the office of None his thin features and thin hands gripped the trolley handle white knuckled, dalle piccole cose grandi cose vengono the Italian monk said holding a coffee bean in the palm of his hand, she held my small thing in the palm of her hand and said see it grows from small things big things come and laughed, vines and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from masters Bernard said, Dom Joe(dear Bunny) ******* up his nose as he thought and said God has a plan for each of us but leaves us to find it out, his scythe sharp the peasant monk swiped the tall grass his motion fluid his head poised as a dancer, my prayer life was as a puddle shallow and murky and I stirred it with the fingers of my words, for a truly religious man nothing is tragic Gareth said quoting Wittgenstein as we sat on the beach watching the tide coming in, where I stood the waters touched my life and thoughts and sin.
0
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
THOUGHTS AND SIN MCMLXXI.
The French peasant monk sharpened his scythe on a stone, des choses simples avec Dieu he said, his calloused hands did their task with simplicity, to one who has faith no explanation is necessary Thomas said, bring wine when you come she said I perform better under its power in bed that is, I watched the peasant monk as he sharpened his scythe mine was less used less blunt, omnia enim possibilia sunt apud Deum Dom James said as we brought apples to the kitchen, Gregorian chant sounded from wall to wall in the church at midday as the office of Sext began, George spoke of the chill at dawn entering the church how it got to his bones, Hugh pushed the tea trolley onto the cloister garth after the office of None his thin features and thin hands gripped the trolley handle white knuckled, dalle piccole cose grandi cose vengono the Italian monk said holding a coffee bean in the palm of his hand, she held my small thing in the palm of her hand and said see it grows from small things big things come and laughed, vines and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from masters Bernard said, Dom Joe(dear Bunny) ******* up his nose as he thought and said God has a plan for each of us but leaves us to find it out, his scythe sharp the peasant monk swiped the tall grass his motion fluid his head poised as a dancer, my prayer life was as a puddle shallow and murky and I stirred it with the fingers of my words, for a truly religious man nothing is tragic Gareth said quoting Wittgenstein as we sat on the beach watching the tide coming in, where I stood the waters touched my life and thoughts and sin.
Continue reading...
85
to get my hands ***** with miracle, to be fed with unknown, quietness, outburst of laughter to carry me like a bridge into nonexistence to make me a violin amidst misunderstanding an imperfect piano in Chopin’s musings to confuse me with another spewing me on a distant shore to bear my craziness of walking naked among suspicious warriors to teach me a prayer for each & every breathing day to take me to the other side inside I want elongation & annihilation the practice of martial arts in the truth of uncertainty to invent distant words for the violent joy of being alive I want the little things filling the imperfection of the day like the warmth of your socks my hand finding your stubborn lips the forgetting of your tired shoulders the softness of my whispers sometimes my shoes next to yours wandering there where something always happens hic sunt leones the shape of your thoughts in the bedclothes I want to fall from grace to love the weight  burying me in this round-about, the hymn of my blood
0
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 7:28 PM UTC
what do I want from love
nemo scit quare ego ridens sunt nemo scit et nescio
0
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 2:12 AM UTC
Untitled
If I say out loud that I love you, do our names and beings change or do our names and beings define, in the first place, the simple phrase, I love you? What can we be without each other? Breath without lungs, kisses without lips, fingers without touch. To name it is to be it; to say it is to birth it in the world of flesh. Less than that, only silence; less than that, nothing at all. - mce
0
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 8:35 PM UTC
Nomina Sunt Consequentia Rerum
Sanctus satanas, sanctus Dominus diabolus sabaoth satanas-venire satanas venire Ave, satanas, Ave satanas Tui sunt caeli Ave satanas.
0
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
My daily Prayer
Coroanele tale astrale coboară Și în dansul lor doboară Barierele clădite Din iubiri neîmplinite Aripile tale sunt Conturate blând de vânt Și-aud *** aduc plăpând Un glas grațios și sfânt Al tău, În viața mea. _M.
0
Dec 8, 2024
Dec 8, 2024 at 9:45 AM UTC
Vânt