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Daily Poetry Ends All that we did here — talking, reading, sleeping — I thought was a building of sorts, but the doors grew tired and flew away in search of another house. — So many names whose bodies are gone. They are jars we store in dark closets, but sometimes light gets in and they shine. Ocean — all day — doing its grand back and forth, and from the shore fire watched, diminishing, then our breaths applauded and were gone as we began to rehearse the different versions. Each of us dressed as a season, then waited to change or be changed while the snow on that hill resembled an enormous egg whose green wings were already ahead of the melting story, the one that will never rise. Mark Irwin Son Düzenleyen Hi-LaL; 22-03-2007 @ 23:00. | |
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| | #2 (mesaj-linki) |
Cvp: Daily Poetry... Love Unexpressed The sweetest notes among the human heart-strings are dull with rust; The sweetest chords, adjusted by the angels, are clogged with dust; We pipe and pipe again our dreary music upon the self-same strains, While sounds of crime, and fear, and desolation, come back in sad refrains. On through the world we go, an army marching with listening ears, Each longing, sighing, for the heavenly music he never hears; Each longing, sighing, for a word of comfort, a word of tender praise, A word of love, to cheer the endless journey of earth's hard, busy days. They love us, and we know it; this suffices for reason's share. Why should they pause to give that love expression with gentle care? Why should they pause? But still our hearts are aching with all the gnawing pain Of hungry love that longs to hear the music, and longs and longs in vain. We love them, and they know it; if we falter, with fingers numb, Among the unused strings of love's expression, the notes are dumb. We shrink within ourselves in voiceless sorrow, leaving the words unsaid, And, side by side with those we love the dearest, in silence on we tread. Thus on we tread, and thus each heart in silence its fate fulfils, Waiting and hoping for the heavenly music beyond the distant hills. The only difference of the love in heaven from love on earth below Is: Here we love and know not how to tell it, and there we all shall know. Constance Fenimore Woolson | |
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| | #3 (mesaj-linki) |
Cvp: Daily Poetry... Adam's Complaint Denise Levertov Some people, no matter what you give them, still want the moon. The bread, the salt, white meat and dark, still hungry. The marriage bed and the cradle, still empty arms. You give them land, their own earth under their feet, still they take to the roads. And water: dig them the deepest well, still it's not deep enough to drink the moon from. | |
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| | #4 (mesaj-linki) |
Cvp: Daily Poetry... Tears, Idle Tears Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more. Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more. Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds To dying ears, when unto dying eyes The casement slowly grows a glimmering square; So sad, so strange, the days that are no more. Dear as remembered kisses after death, And sweet as those by hopeless fancy feigned On lips that are for others; deep as love, Deep as first love, and wild with all regret; O Death in Life, the days that are no more! Alfred, Lord Tennyson | |
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| | #5 (mesaj-linki) |
Cvp: Daily Poetry... Alone by Maya Angelou Lying, thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone I came up with one thing And I don't believe I'm wrong That nobody, But nobody Can make it out here alone. Alone, all alone Nobody, but nobody Can make it out here alone. There are some millionaires With money they can't use Their wives run round like banshees Their children sing the blues They've got expensive doctors To cure their hearts of stone. But nobody No, nobody Can make it out here alone. Alone, all alone Nobody, but nobody Can make it out here alone. Now if you listen closely I'll tell you what I know Storm clouds are gathering The wind is gonna blow The race of man is suffering And I can hear the moan, 'Cause nobody, But nobody Can make it out here alone. Alone, all alone Nobody, but nobody Can make it out here alone. | |
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