Night's back before last dream awake,
Holding the dissolution of hands,
What is not a line of older citizens,
But pair of headlamps morning was delayed.
It was when the tears when the wet sheets,
And he continued to medicines
In the steam was the presence of the ocean, mind
From deep water and salt bite.
Here you can find your body,
The hand in front of the face and the face that it touches
Floating eyes, the feet on the ground invisible,
Blur, as in another skin.
Published in any case, because it was morning,
To taste, touch, blind hardness
As the ruins of marble, rock and edges,
Shaver in goose down, couches "achievements of the fist.
Suddenly, it seems, on the waves,
Transmute hanging mineral money,
Before the eyes in the curve metals
This intrusion into the soup lather Queen Anne's Lace.
In a big nothing, a theology.
On the amorphous, an institution edgeless
Or a hunting as a mass of Krause
This rush to the bottom of the sand, put the hunger.
I remember a gang of friends
Courses of a bank of fog along the beach attack.
Seal-black, hot sun
That would be something to eat, they run a laugh.
The fog has arrived. And they were beautiful,
The three boys and a girl, nor in their combination,
And the dissolution of the overrun,
Your stridency, full of faith, always be heard.
Every morning you can breed in a dove like.
The fog itself satisfied with overwhelming
The meager Tau, the watering of doors
0f snails, clams in the wind, and more.
And then almost twelve there was a concentration
As if the sky is trying to smooth a word
-- Or to remember that the right to
Where he is in an area not known.
And knew. Power and Light. Wide Awake.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Magic
We have Booth by old farmer on the spot.
Robust and it was right, his body steel
With tenacity and age. We have our eyes
Flinched who never shot or compromise,
And "opportunity", he cried, "good luck!" And a sign, arms,
Knotted boat and how, how, for example, farm
In each of Maine was able to boast, and the difference
He turned back on the amount of his new hair cut hay. . .
It was a pleasant, to curve
He has once more demonstrated now works in the late
At a big way to its eighty years
As the flags in the wind lifted thunder.
Then we have suddenly taken off the road
Cup village, the one with the commander
Looking from the river. And we Strode
Faster now on the long pier which has shown
If the fragile boats were kept Indian Landing.
In the dinghy, we strengthened our paddle hardened
The decline in leisure, and the thin bark glided
Information on the water. Well then
We turned the nose curling against the current,
Feeling the rise of the river half a deterrent
Pull out the range that we turned the blade
In order not swerving rounds, while we delayed
To the curious wavelength eaten locks;
Or pass, with lazy, alternately, picnic rocks ....
Blue eels flew among us, and the fish dieted
A thousand possibilities, the great chain, once declined.
And about the wise and noble heart
Twilight tilted downwards, the sunset, fog were separated --
And we, with reflections on tiptoe, slunk
Down the green, the rotation of the streets Kennebunk,
Property in meadows
The trees, rocks, the cows. . .
And quiet drips from the shadows
As the heavy rain parts.
The tree toads are ringing
The constant bells money;
A country without a breeze came coast swing
His country incense boiler odors.
The Little River Canyon
Ausdehnend in dark areas;
Like a dark and silent companion
Evening was held in his hand.
Maire the twilight bravadoes;
For lunch, cut a scream --
And quietly slipped the shadow
In gliding stars from the sky. . .
It must be one hour longer, or later,
If the stagnation again through the forest Piney,
We thought that the years fly back, fraternity
The forests We had and we have seen the satyre!
There is a swimming pool, until her neck, when he returned
And to see smile we look infidels --
To surprise, not to forget the fear or theft.
Feeling the threat in the night tricky,
We have turned, if the execution is here, he called to us!
With our behalf much he called it. We have made
With squealing the courage to Avenue
From birches, until we have seen, the compensation,
(Not by a more sensitive, light green light)
Familiar curves and shrubs, user-friendly way --
And Farmer Booth by wood in his bath!
The wood is on his background, every tree
Resemblant part of it, and was created, and the release of
The beauty of this serenity Theodosius;
The power of the silence of age, the smiles and squared
His shoulders against the clock. . . And in the same night
Free in and out of it, as if the contents
With such a native element;
frosh, a spirit completely
Like the old, as well as Placid and confident. . .
Sideways we shot. More and shiny and unclad
He made a leap in the bank, the light like a boy,
His body drops in the moonlight stars. . .
We went back in through the pasture bars.
Robust and it was right, his body steel
With tenacity and age. We have our eyes
Flinched who never shot or compromise,
And "opportunity", he cried, "good luck!" And a sign, arms,
Knotted boat and how, how, for example, farm
In each of Maine was able to boast, and the difference
He turned back on the amount of his new hair cut hay. . .
It was a pleasant, to curve
He has once more demonstrated now works in the late
At a big way to its eighty years
As the flags in the wind lifted thunder.
Then we have suddenly taken off the road
Cup village, the one with the commander
Looking from the river. And we Strode
Faster now on the long pier which has shown
If the fragile boats were kept Indian Landing.
In the dinghy, we strengthened our paddle hardened
The decline in leisure, and the thin bark glided
Information on the water. Well then
We turned the nose curling against the current,
Feeling the rise of the river half a deterrent
Pull out the range that we turned the blade
In order not swerving rounds, while we delayed
To the curious wavelength eaten locks;
Or pass, with lazy, alternately, picnic rocks ....
Blue eels flew among us, and the fish dieted
A thousand possibilities, the great chain, once declined.
And about the wise and noble heart
Twilight tilted downwards, the sunset, fog were separated --
And we, with reflections on tiptoe, slunk
Down the green, the rotation of the streets Kennebunk,
Property in meadows
The trees, rocks, the cows. . .
And quiet drips from the shadows
As the heavy rain parts.
The tree toads are ringing
The constant bells money;
A country without a breeze came coast swing
His country incense boiler odors.
The Little River Canyon
Ausdehnend in dark areas;
Like a dark and silent companion
Evening was held in his hand.
Maire the twilight bravadoes;
For lunch, cut a scream --
And quietly slipped the shadow
In gliding stars from the sky. . .
It must be one hour longer, or later,
If the stagnation again through the forest Piney,
We thought that the years fly back, fraternity
The forests We had and we have seen the satyre!
There is a swimming pool, until her neck, when he returned
And to see smile we look infidels --
To surprise, not to forget the fear or theft.
Feeling the threat in the night tricky,
We have turned, if the execution is here, he called to us!
With our behalf much he called it. We have made
With squealing the courage to Avenue
From birches, until we have seen, the compensation,
(Not by a more sensitive, light green light)
Familiar curves and shrubs, user-friendly way --
And Farmer Booth by wood in his bath!
The wood is on his background, every tree
Resemblant part of it, and was created, and the release of
The beauty of this serenity Theodosius;
The power of the silence of age, the smiles and squared
His shoulders against the clock. . . And in the same night
Free in and out of it, as if the contents
With such a native element;
frosh, a spirit completely
Like the old, as well as Placid and confident. . .
Sideways we shot. More and shiny and unclad
He made a leap in the bank, the light like a boy,
His body drops in the moonlight stars. . .
We went back in through the pasture bars.
Here I'am Waiting
I am the waiting list for my case to come to
and I'm in the queue
for a revival of wonder
and I am one of the waiting list for
to really discover America
and Wail
and I'm in the queue
for the discovery
a new frontier of the Western symbolic
and I'm in the queue
American Eagle
really to spread its wings
and again and fly
and I'm in the queue
for the age of anxiety
up dead
and I'm in the queue
that the war be fought
, A safer world
for anarchy
and I'm in the queue
for the last withering away
all governments,
and I am still in the queue
a revival of wonder
I am waiting list for the second coming
and I'm in the queue
for a religious renewal
Scan through the Arizona State
and I'm in the queue
Grapes for the wrath of the store
and I'm in the queue
demonstrate
God is really that U.S. --
and I'm in the queue
to see God on television
Church leadership on the altars
if only they can find
the right channel
to listen to
and I'm in the queue
for the Last Supper to be served again
with a new and strange drinks
and I am still in the queue
a revival of wonder
I am the waiting list for my phone number
and I'm in the queue
for the army to take the Hello is
and I'm in the queue
for the mild blessed
and inherit the earth
Without taxes
and I'm in the queue
for the forest and the animals
returned to the earth than its
and I'm in the queue
for a way to evolve
destroy all nationalisms
person without killing
and I'm in the queue
for linnets and planets to fall like the rain
and I am waiting list for the lovers and weepers
Sleeping together again
in a new renaissance of wonder
I am waiting list for the Great Divide to overcome
and I am impatiently waiting
To learn the secrets of eternal life to discover
by an obscure family doctor
and I'm in the queue
for the storms of life
more
and I'm in the queue
, The course to happiness
and I'm in the queue
for a new Mayflower
to reach America
with its history and the image of TV rights
sold in advance for the autochthonous
and I'm in the queue
the loss of music for his new
in the lost continent
in a new renaissance of wonder
I am the waiting list for the day
market that all things clearly
and I am in anticipation of revenge
for what America has
Tom Sawyer
and I'm in the queue
for Alice in Wonderland
for forwarding to me
his dream of total innocence
and I'm in the queue
Childe Roland for future
The last round of the darker
and I'm in the queue
for Aphrodite
grow live arms
At the end of a conference on disarmament
in a new renaissance of wonder
I'm in the queue
for some intimations
immortality
recollecting from my early childhood
and I'm in the queue
Tomorrow, on the Green to come back
Silent films small green fields come back again
and I'm in the queue
for certain stem cells do not intentionally art
to operate, my typewriter
and I am responsible for the letter
the great poem indelible
and I'm in the queue
Enthusiasm for the last negligence too long
and I am still in the queue
for lovers of escape to the Grecian Urn
the other, over the past
and adopt
and I'm in the queue
over and over
a revival of wonder
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
I'm Alone
Ah! that is why the Church site on this page
Poor lorn a little. errant Dost Thou?
Thy slightly undulating, but hide the locks
The tears that your blue eyes dim-ray;
And so you complain and moan,
And cry, you're alone?
You will not be left alone, poor boy,
The traveler stops to hear your story;
No heart, as hard as you chew!
Indeed, if your mother is played by the pale
And among the height at the grave stone,
You are not, Urchin, left alone.
I know you well! your hair yellow
Silky In many cases I have seen:
Your face and dimpled fresh and fair,
Roguish your smile, your mischievous preliminary figures
When all to me, a poor orphan, is known,
Ere Fate had left you alone!
Thy russet fur scans, and back-and-messengering,
Your pale cheek is now deadly!
Your eyes are dark, your looks forlorn,
And your topless conforms to the Galleries;
And I hear you groan often deeply,
Whether you, poor boy, left alone art.
Thy painfully bare feet are injured
With thorns, the crossroads of streets of your newspaper;
The winds of winter for you shout,
The church yard is your home dark;
Your pillows now a tombstone cold --
And you truelove's mourning alone!
The rain has drenched you, throughout the night;
Frost nipping your breasts frozen;
And after as before, shadows under the ifs,
I have heard your woes sigh artless;
I have heard of you, until the star has shone day
In the darkness and cry cry alone!
Often, I saw you, boy,
After your stepmother knee;
Indeed, whether they lived, you value their joy,
Although now you must be mourner!
For it is weak, where the stone Ie serious
Announce that you are left alone.
Wines, not crying, there on the hill
The bells ring gay village;
The funny reeds and brawling Rill
Call sport rustic away from you.
So why moan and groan and cry,
A crowd of only truant?
"I can not climb the green hills,
I can not keep pace Highlands mead;
I can not participate in the valley
To hear strange retentiveness technique:
For all remains under Ice stone,
Where is my poor mother left alone!
"I can not pick flowers Seeing
Dress hard on the scene revels
I can not spend the evening
Among the noisy crowd of village;
For alone and in darkness
My mother sleeps under Ice stone.
"You see, like the stars beginning to shine,
The dog-sheep cloche's time;
The night-fly "buzzing the beam moon
Peeps-through the trees if "shady line:
It falls on the white stone,
Where is my dear mother sleeps alone.
"O stay does not myself, because I must go,
Upland The path to tread in haste;
For them grow pale primroses,
They thrive on the dress my mother's bed.
You have to peep before the time of day, strewn,
Wherever they read all the formation of mold alone.
"My father o'er the sea storm
In distant countries were taken into city,
And my mother stayed still with me,
And toiled crying night and day.
And I will never be an end of the stone
Where is the one she left for sleep.
"My father died, and again, I found
My mother loves and friendly to me;
I felt with the removal of the breast links
When I first caused to the knee --
And then my child loud bang,
And no reflection on the tombstone of IE.
"No longer gentle voice, I hear,
No smile to see their preference;
So I wonder not break the scales
She died would have to follow me!
And she still sleeps under Ice stone,
And I live alone to cry.
"Your mischievous child, he liked her,
Senior Cliff what Ive seen;
I heard the sound of tinkling bell far,
What are the seemed of aid in vain to call --
I have heard the end of the suffering innocent groan,
Grieved and he was left alone.
"Our faithful dog crazy grew up and died,
The Lightning smote Our holiday house down --
We did not have a resting place beside,
And knew that we should not go:
Indeed, we were poor and the hearts of stone
If ever palpitate in misery's groan.
"My mother has survived, nor for me,
She me concentrate on the front mountain
You watched me, while there tree
I sat, and the branch webfeet oozier;
And she wept often, not afraid, myself!
You should not, young to be left alone. "
"The blast furnace was blowing strong, the torrent Rose
And brought our children shattered reads:
And where the clear stream flows rapidly,
On the lawn at the dawn of day,
If the sun seemed full of light shine,
I wandered, friendless and alone! "
You're not the case, a young, I saw
Thy tiny traces of pressure dew,
And while the morning sky herein
Spread o'er the hill a yellow hue,
I heard your sad and plaintive groan,
In addition to the Stone Cold sepulchral.
And if summer time noontide
In sweltering rays of the campaign to disseminate
I marked, weaving fragrant flowers
To make your bed bridge mother silent!
Even in the stone church site is simple
Value you ill Urchin left alone.
Jae ate followed along the valley,
And the forest shadowy Way:
I heard your sad story
How slowly sunk star du jour:
In addition, glittering light, if it is stolen
From a value of all immigrants alone.
"O! Yes, I was! East, and yet
A hiker, sadness and forlorn;
Indeed, what everyone else for me --
What are the dews and buds of tomorrow?
As she left me sad that alone
In the darkness sleeps under Ice stone!
N''Lame brother fall for me,
Indeed, I never knew no brother;
Not to share the fate of my friend cry,
For friends are rare and only a few tears;
No, I can see, save yourself in this stone,
Where I'm going to stay and cry alone.
"My father never return,
It lies below sea level-green wave
I have no relationship by mourning
When I hidden in the tomb there:
Not on a dress with flowers stone!
So, certainly, I am left alone!
Poor lorn a little. errant Dost Thou?
Thy slightly undulating, but hide the locks
The tears that your blue eyes dim-ray;
And so you complain and moan,
And cry, you're alone?
You will not be left alone, poor boy,
The traveler stops to hear your story;
No heart, as hard as you chew!
Indeed, if your mother is played by the pale
And among the height at the grave stone,
You are not, Urchin, left alone.
I know you well! your hair yellow
Silky In many cases I have seen:
Your face and dimpled fresh and fair,
Roguish your smile, your mischievous preliminary figures
When all to me, a poor orphan, is known,
Ere Fate had left you alone!
Thy russet fur scans, and back-and-messengering,
Your pale cheek is now deadly!
Your eyes are dark, your looks forlorn,
And your topless conforms to the Galleries;
And I hear you groan often deeply,
Whether you, poor boy, left alone art.
Thy painfully bare feet are injured
With thorns, the crossroads of streets of your newspaper;
The winds of winter for you shout,
The church yard is your home dark;
Your pillows now a tombstone cold --
And you truelove's mourning alone!
The rain has drenched you, throughout the night;
Frost nipping your breasts frozen;
And after as before, shadows under the ifs,
I have heard your woes sigh artless;
I have heard of you, until the star has shone day
In the darkness and cry cry alone!
Often, I saw you, boy,
After your stepmother knee;
Indeed, whether they lived, you value their joy,
Although now you must be mourner!
For it is weak, where the stone Ie serious
Announce that you are left alone.
Wines, not crying, there on the hill
The bells ring gay village;
The funny reeds and brawling Rill
Call sport rustic away from you.
So why moan and groan and cry,
A crowd of only truant?
"I can not climb the green hills,
I can not keep pace Highlands mead;
I can not participate in the valley
To hear strange retentiveness technique:
For all remains under Ice stone,
Where is my poor mother left alone!
"I can not pick flowers Seeing
Dress hard on the scene revels
I can not spend the evening
Among the noisy crowd of village;
For alone and in darkness
My mother sleeps under Ice stone.
"You see, like the stars beginning to shine,
The dog-sheep cloche's time;
The night-fly "buzzing the beam moon
Peeps-through the trees if "shady line:
It falls on the white stone,
Where is my dear mother sleeps alone.
"O stay does not myself, because I must go,
Upland The path to tread in haste;
For them grow pale primroses,
They thrive on the dress my mother's bed.
You have to peep before the time of day, strewn,
Wherever they read all the formation of mold alone.
"My father o'er the sea storm
In distant countries were taken into city,
And my mother stayed still with me,
And toiled crying night and day.
And I will never be an end of the stone
Where is the one she left for sleep.
"My father died, and again, I found
My mother loves and friendly to me;
I felt with the removal of the breast links
When I first caused to the knee --
And then my child loud bang,
And no reflection on the tombstone of IE.
"No longer gentle voice, I hear,
No smile to see their preference;
So I wonder not break the scales
She died would have to follow me!
And she still sleeps under Ice stone,
And I live alone to cry.
"Your mischievous child, he liked her,
Senior Cliff what Ive seen;
I heard the sound of tinkling bell far,
What are the seemed of aid in vain to call --
I have heard the end of the suffering innocent groan,
Grieved and he was left alone.
"Our faithful dog crazy grew up and died,
The Lightning smote Our holiday house down --
We did not have a resting place beside,
And knew that we should not go:
Indeed, we were poor and the hearts of stone
If ever palpitate in misery's groan.
"My mother has survived, nor for me,
She me concentrate on the front mountain
You watched me, while there tree
I sat, and the branch webfeet oozier;
And she wept often, not afraid, myself!
You should not, young to be left alone. "
"The blast furnace was blowing strong, the torrent Rose
And brought our children shattered reads:
And where the clear stream flows rapidly,
On the lawn at the dawn of day,
If the sun seemed full of light shine,
I wandered, friendless and alone! "
You're not the case, a young, I saw
Thy tiny traces of pressure dew,
And while the morning sky herein
Spread o'er the hill a yellow hue,
I heard your sad and plaintive groan,
In addition to the Stone Cold sepulchral.
And if summer time noontide
In sweltering rays of the campaign to disseminate
I marked, weaving fragrant flowers
To make your bed bridge mother silent!
Even in the stone church site is simple
Value you ill Urchin left alone.
Jae ate followed along the valley,
And the forest shadowy Way:
I heard your sad story
How slowly sunk star du jour:
In addition, glittering light, if it is stolen
From a value of all immigrants alone.
"O! Yes, I was! East, and yet
A hiker, sadness and forlorn;
Indeed, what everyone else for me --
What are the dews and buds of tomorrow?
As she left me sad that alone
In the darkness sleeps under Ice stone!
N''Lame brother fall for me,
Indeed, I never knew no brother;
Not to share the fate of my friend cry,
For friends are rare and only a few tears;
No, I can see, save yourself in this stone,
Where I'm going to stay and cry alone.
"My father never return,
It lies below sea level-green wave
I have no relationship by mourning
When I hidden in the tomb there:
Not on a dress with flowers stone!
So, certainly, I am left alone!
Welcome To My Site
hi I'm Alex and welcome to the little part of my site! Here you can find poems that can relieve your stress just a little. You can forget about the world full of hardship that you can't imagine your being down. Hope you'll find your way to tranquility and peace of mind. Stay in touch and let this site free your soul.... Enjoy your reading....!
You can also try my other site. Just click a link below; Thank you!
You can also try my other site. Just click a link below; Thank you!
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