Poetry is a category of literary art which uses the aesthetic qualities of language to evoke meanings in addition to, or in place of, the prosaic ostensible meaning.
The video eBook "Fantastic Trillion" description trillion dollars in different poetic forms.
Synthesis per year 50000 tons of SYNTHETIC DIAMONDS with quality from 1 Trillion Dollars USA per 1 ton.
The 2015 Letter to My Parents ContestTM in Hawai‘i was organized by Kalamansi Books and Things, Sariling Gawa – Youth Council, Read 2 Succeed Foundation, and Reiyukai America. The sponsors were Budget Color Litho., Filipino Association of University Women, BenchPrep, La Raza Unida, and Zippy’s The judges were Maiana Minahal (Kapi‘olani Community College), Mia Porecca (Read 2gether Foundation), and Dusty Santos (KNDI 1270AM). “We are committed to continue this no...
Recueil de poésie, 48 pages
En ningún animal el desperdicio de una selva y la razón de un profiláctico.
El amor lo puede todo, puede abastecer de alma lo imposible.
Poetry. Edición Bilingüe. Español-Galego
El ejercicio, pues, no es sólo ver la luz al otro lado sino también verla aunque ese otro lado no exista.
Gedichte und Gedanken zum Leben in neoliberalen Zeiten.
“கண் கண்ட கடவுளை கவிஞனாக்கி”, அவன் கண்ட இந்நாள் உலகை கருவாக்கி , உயிரும் மெய்யுமாய் இருப்பவன் சிந்தையில் உயிர்மெய் எழுத்துக்கள் உலாவவிட்டு , அண்டங்கள் காப்பவன் கரங்களில் அமிர்த தமிழை விளையாடவிட்டு, கற்சிற்பங்களில் ஒளிந்து திருக்கோயில் கொண்டவன் வெண் காகிதம் கொண்டு கவிச்சிற்பம் வடித்தால் ....??? என்ற கேள்விகளின் கற்பனை தொகுப்புகளே "கடவுளின் ஹைக்கூ...!”
அச்சு பிழை புத்தகம் தலைப்பு தன்னம்பிக்கை "மாற்றுத்திறனாளி...!" இயற்கை பேரழிவு தவிர்க்க முடியா பெரும் விபத்து "காதல் ...!"
A book of peoms
This document was written on Sept 2, 2018 when I was in lowest point of my life. I had decided to commit suicide. My suicide would have or have not been occurred on Sept 3 2018. But I have made a choice not to alter any portion of this text. I am posting it on Sept 2 2018. I believed it to be necessary to communicate this to others in case it helps anyone who might be in similar situation. It might be comforting to some.
Suicide is a way to change something that just cannot exist with even a single droplet of happiness.
Premier recueil de poésie de l'auteure, édition 1985
This is an ode for lovers, who gaze at each other in search of something. It is such a search that makes them drink deep from one another's heart. such a drink can arise from this gaze, a gaze that is more fulfilling than all the wines out there.
This book sheds light on the intoxicated dance of the soul in varied seasons of life. Often, we wonder about how to tune into the rhythms of welcoming--the coming and going of times, the rising and falling of light, the dance by the breaking light of dawn, and how it gracefully changes as we dance by the light of moon on the shimmering sands. Life is a string of changes, and times come when we get overwhelmed by them. But there lies a deeper, a richer dance that springs ...
-"Fue entonces y la tierra despertó arrojando temblorosos ríos de polilla." Pero por fortuna yo ya poseía una nueva posición desde la que retratar el horror y ofrecer una salvación. -¿Cuál es el rescate frente al sufrimiento? ¿Sangre de polilla? -Pulverum est et in pulverum reverteris. -Entonces una bayeta, un plumero, una mopa, en manos de una hermosa criada.
El poeta se sienta a observar lo que otros hacen, no se siente a gusto pero tampoco ayuda a cambiar una rueda. Es mejor que encuentre un lugar en que no sean necesarias su impaciencia e indecisión para dirigirse hacia ninguna parte
Recueil de poésie comportant 51 pages.
Extrait : Entre les couleurs terre de Sienne / et noir d'encre / le jour marathonien s'essouffle / nous ravive entre deux néants / nous colle au coeur / puis disparaît / dans la bouche de la nuit / silence on tourne en rond
A Concrete Verse poem which may be considered an elegiac Idyll on Beauty as Idée was written over a Thirty-year Entr'acte. It was composed of and with occurrences that began in 1963 of which some lines may be found in poems from "Miss Crabtree's Daughters" and "On the Nature of Existence".
Light as ponderous settling fog obscures | Reflections of flesh once was | Hundred-year mirror | Age has | photographs belied | They silently exist | by prusse Moon lit: | forgotten | were Reminiscences to be found; | Sorrows in Solitude solace consoled by one not seen; | embraces and caresses adumbrated | by Presence; | Existence frolicked imp-like: | Revelments paled | Resplendences paled | The currents set by Chronos slowed in the dark of Chaos; | And Beauty smiling |...
¿Cómo decirle nunca más a un animal que ama como nunca jamás? ¿Cómo discernir que se acabó si todo es para siempre?
No poseer nada ni siquiera la ambición de la nada.
¿Los poetas no son aquellos que se cubren con un parasol de la inclemencia, huyen de las cloacas de las aves y de los mensajes sin membrete?
No hemos nacido para recitar poesía, sino para que nos reciten, para ser recitados por una felación y un cunilingus.
Often we regret looking back at the times, the seasons that have left us, as they brought something meaningful to our lives. While we wish we could get them back, rarely do we realize, they are never truly lost in the rolling of time. The times came with their blessings and lessons, but each was a treasure of light, released as pearls of unending wisdom, as life goes on rolling. Those blessings, and lessons are embedded in the shells, hidden in the sands of life, if only...
How did it happen that—joy and pain, their lips came together? See the way, the night makes a way for the sun to light the sky. Everything is held in that breathtaking moment, When sorrow departs, and joy arrives to kiss our souls, That is the moment, when the sadness leaves and happiness comes to rest, Such is the timing when the two meet each other, Knowing it is time to greet in the wake of a new beauty, As every cycle of life has its own phase, The moment—whe...
Recueil de poésie, 57 pages
(extrait) Entre les pierres / la vie l’aventure / qu’une brise passagère / est venu raccorder / aux désirs répandus / sur les rêves les plus fous
Nada en el exoesqueleto de la tarde, excepto el infinito ultraje del sol. Me gustan las mujeres que no esperan nada de un hombre porque la nada siempre es una expectativa razonable. No creo en la belleza, unicamente en la vileza de lo bello. Es la hora del trabajo, la purga, la negación, no se puede cavar con un kilómetro de mierda en el duodeno.
Cuando lleven tu alma inglesa a cabalgar infiernos, recuerda que sólo los aristócratas cagan yesca. Trotando por el valle de la muerte con temeridad e imprudencia, mi bien, la soldadesca se acaba convirtiendo en metralla de cosacos. La estupidez de un imperio crea mitos y leyendas, pero más valiera relinchar y comer yerba, galopar y fornicar eslavas, que seguir las órdenes de un muerto llamado Valor. Solamente padecen los que han nacido para perecer. Si regresas al amor ...