She’s rhythmic Sashaying through it all Her plight is the cacophony Tormenting my brittle head Because my plight is the man
aspirecious beauty of her perpendicular to perpetuity she just like the fine arts she likes stopping to admire like she knows
THE rain streams down like harp—s… The wind, that world—old harpist,… And ever as he sings his low refra… He plays upon the harp—strings of…
By Stanley Collymore I’ll lift my eyes up to the stars… to attain my genuine ambitions, bu… doing so I won’t ever allow myself to be blinded by pointless daydrea…
call me weird because I like to go… Go to the club? No thanks. The booze, music, and simple minde… You’re being told to act like this… This world makes me so fucking ira…
Each time that I breath I can feel your heart around me Everything I perceive seems to ho… The turmoil we create through our… But things are changing
‘All thoughts, all passions, all… Whatever stirs this mortal frame.'… Are but the legacies of apes, With interest on the same. How oft in studious hours do I
The mark of a stake in the shoulde… The brand of a wall on the knee, Are scars to the careless beholder And blemishes. So it may be ; But every such blemish endorses
I do not ask caresses of their han… they can only shake mine. I do not ask the kisses of his mou… just listen to his words and his v… I no longer ask their feet in my s…
All imagination 11/30/2014 Who can imagine Expresses your majesty E shows the difference with all hi… Person, person.
everyone’s eyes are filled with what could have been some girls are alone others accompanied by lovers all waiting for their names to be…
King Robert the Bruce’s deadly en… Joined the English with eight hun… All strong, hardy, and active fear… But Bruce’s men attacked them wit… And while they were engaged, a new…
Walking through the dreaming lanes… Walking, my limbs striding yet my… Like a watcher in the trees gazing… I think on the evening, as a life’… Without wistfulness,
I can’t picture you, without feeling my heart jump I can’t picture you, without my breath hitching I can’t picture you,
What if? Hanging crucified from that questi… That bleeding odor comes and goes… Persecuting the last sound, we got… What did you say? What if I heard…
Your sharp words hurt me like a kn… You think you know me and my story… I’m not perfect but unlike you I… So maybe in future reference think… That pours out hundreds and millio…
I see them walking by the shore Holding hands, like they belong I’ve seen them laughing, stealing… But they can’t see me anymore. I see them sharing heart-shaped ca…
In an old book I found her face Writ by a dead man long ago– I found, and then I lost the plac… So nothing but her face I know, And her soft name writ fair below.
Give me leave to rail at you, - I ask nothing but my due: To call you false, and then to say You shall not keep my heart a day. But alas! against my will
The love for the golfstream jets As fine art contemporary The heavens in H.D. All about gems The reality this most beautiful
My banks they are furnish’d with b… Whose murmur invites one to sleep; My grottos are shaded with trees, And my hills are white-over with s… I seldom have met with a loss,
Look off, dear Love, across the s… And mark yon meeting of the sun an… How long they kiss in sight of all… Ah! longer, longer, we. Now in the sea’s red vintage melts…
HAVING certain cares to drown, To the sea I took them down: And I threw them in the wave, That engulfed them like a grave. Swiftly then I plied the oar
Just walk away before the sun sets… Before the horizon blocks the ligh… What once was full of beauty has b… Slowly fading away into a soft mut… Scarlet Begonias you say remind y…
God knows us better than anyone even we don’t know ourselves like… so can He solve all our problems? after all He has a mighty sharp sw… Remember that God is all sovereig…
Mourn not for these, the children… On Flemish plains and far Aegean… Mourn not for these, who had no pe… Hang high their swords in churches… Whose deeds have spoken so, beyond…
The woman named Tomorrow sits with a hairpin in her teeth and takes her time and does her hair the way she want… and fastens at last the last braid…
Here she lies, in bed of spice, Fair as Eve in paradise; For her beauty, it was such, Poets could not praise too much. Virgins come, and in a ring
Boss Oberseer, Dat BULLUMTIN… Bloke tell me writum BULLUMTI… ’You Billy, makum writin’-yabber,… ‘Him quick bin pay fer writin’ - p… S’pose mine write it pretty good,…
Rure morans, quid agam, respondi,… Mane, deum exoro famulos, post arv… Partitusque meis justos indico lab… Inde lego, Phoebumque cio, Musamq… Tunc oleo corpus fingo, mollique p…
