Get flash to fully experience Pearltrees
Each person found the new loneliness both so unbearably alien and excruciatingly familiar, everyone rushed to seek relief by entering into a different exchange, and then another, and then another, until soon, all the individual lonelinesses were irrevocably lost in the web of transpositions. Everyone longed for his or her original loneliness as if for a vanished beloved, and thus art, the alphabet, and printmaking, as well as the media, sprang into existence early in this realm, and under great pressure, rather than at the leisurely pace of most societies, as these citizens urgently tried to find ways to describe the particularities, the densities, the textures, etc. of their original conditions. A crude version of the classifieds was invented in which people listed the characteristics not of their ideal soul mates, but of their orphaned lonelinesses.
"VILLAGE OF STONE" - 2004 novel, Vintage Paperback - see here shortlisted for The Independent "Best Foreign Fiction Prize" 2005 nominated for Dublin International Literature Award (IMPAC) 2006 from "Village of Stone" interview "My Secret Life as Coral" Reviews of "Village of Stone" Translations : Originally published In Chinese By Shanghai Literature & Art Publishing House, 2003 In English by Chatto & Windus , 2004 In French ( la ville de pierre ) by Editions Philippe Picquier, 2004 - voir ici In Dutch (dorp van steen) by Mouria, February 2004 in German ( Stadt der Steine ) by Knaus, 2004 - siehe hier in Portuguese (aldeia de pedra) by Quetzal, 2004 in Polish ( Kamienna Wioska) by Muza, 2006 <p style="text-align:right;color:#A8A8A8"></p>
Dogfish Mary Oliver Some kind of relaxed and beautiful thing kept flickering in with the tide and looking around.
Last Words Michael Symmons Roberts (i) You have a new message: Kiss the kids goodbye from me Keep well, keep strong, you know I'm sure, but here's to say I love you. I lay these voice-prints
Kamil Porembiński / Foter How can I arrange to have my book printed / published? There are various ways to go about it. You can put together a small book by hand, or have a local printer publish some books for you. Or, you can buy a publishing package from a “self-publishing” or “print-on-demand” company. They are all viable options, depending on your budget, needs & preferences.
Il se peut que la page que vous recherchez ait été supprimée, ait changé de nom ou soit momentanément indisponible. Essayez les opérations suivantes : Assurez-vous que l'adresse du site Web affichée dans la barre d'adresses de votre navigateur ne contient pas d'erreur. Si vous avez atteint cette page en cliquant sur un lien, contactez l'administrateur du site Web pour lui indiquer que le lien est mal formaté.
Once again, Jarvis Cocker is promoting Richard to the world. Here in this short passage , Jarvis talks to the first chapter about Richard’s death and William Hjortsberg makes an appearance. This is from Messy isn’t it?
i have a weird request. my brother-in-law's brother is getting married soon and he and his fiance are extremely non-religious but they wanted some poems to be read by a few family members. the only thing i could think of was i carry your heart by e.e. cummings because of that cameron diaz movie but i don't think they're the e.e. cummings type of people, if you catch my drift. any suggestions? i guess this could also serve as a "post your favourite love poem" entry ;) <p style="text-align:right;color:#A8A8A8"></p>
they were all out on the front porch talking: Hemingway, Faulkner, T.S. Eliot, Ezra Pound, Hamsun, Wally Stevens, e.e. cummings and a few others. "listen," said my mother, "can't you ask them to stop talking?" "no," I said.
XLIV from One Hundred Love Sonnets Pablo Neruda You will know that I do and do not love you just as life is of two minds, a word is one wing of silence, and fire is half made of ice. I love you just so I can begin to love you, to begin anew at the infinite and to be able never to stop loving you: For these reasons, I do not love you yet. I do and do not love you as if I held in my hands the keys to every happiness and an uncertain, unhappy fate.
"The face of the city changes more quickly, alas! than the mortal heart." - Charles Baudelaire So much of the city is our bodies. Places in us old light still slants to. Places that no longer exist but are full of feeling, like phantom limbs. Even the city carries ruins in its heart.
More than putting another man on the moon, more than a New Year’s resolution of yogurt and yoga, we need the opportunity to dance with really exquisite strangers. A slow dance between the couch and dinning room table, at the end of the party, while the person we love has gone to bring the car around because it’s begun to rain and would break their heart if any part of us got wet. A slow dance to bring the evening home, to knock it out of the park. Two people rocking back and forth like a buoy.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again ( I think I made you up inside my head) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moonstruck, kissed me quite insane (I think I made you up inside my head) God topples from the sky, hell's fire's fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you'd return the way you said But I grow old and I forget your name ( I think I made you up inside my head)
Arrêtons-nous un peu, causons. C’est encore moi, ce soir, qui m’arrête, c’est encore vous qui m’écoutez.
I Crave Your Mouth, Your Voice, Your Hair DON'T GO FAR OFF, NOT EVEN FOR A DAY Don't go far off, not even for a day, because -- because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep. Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then the little drops of anguish will all run together, the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift into me, choking my lost heart. Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach; may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.