c3LK9DFd8qfm739w7wdYlX96o1_400.png (PNG Image, 382x543 pixels) To sleep less and dream more --- Gabriel Garcia Marquez. If for a moment God were to forget that I am a rag doll and granted me a piece of life, I probably wouldn't say everything that I think; rather, I would think about everything that I say.
I would value things, not for their worth but for what they mean. I would sleep less, dream more, understanding that for each minute we close our eyes, we lose sixty seconds of light. Allen Ginsberg - Howl. For Carl Solomon I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,
Poetry of Komitas. As a creative individual, Komitas tested his abilities in the field of poetry, have left marvelous poems.
Although the exact dates of their creation are unknown, the poems of the genius composer are assumed to have been written sometime around 1905-1914. In them one can discover the thoughts, feelings and soul of Komitas as a composer and Komitas as a human being. Inspite of the fact that the poems were often written hastily with a pencil, and some of the notebooks were titled “Draft”, the poems of Komitas are respectfully considered flawless and magnificent samples of poetry.
The khazzes from the manuscripts allow us to assume that Komitas intended to vocalize his texts. These poems are penetrated with a heart-felt concern and sincerity; they are unique for their rich syllables, “melody” and “rhythm”. SHAKE THE DUST. Author Pablo Neruda Quote So I Wait For You Like A Lonely House. The Dream. The Dream I dreamed that you had ceased to love me— not that you had come from other beds back to mine, or gone from mine to others, just that something in your heart had stopped.
I willed myself awake to find you still beside me. One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII by Pablo Neruda : The Poetry Foundation [poem] I don’t love you as if you were a rose of salt, topaz, or arrow of carnations that propagate fire: I love you as one loves certain obscure things, secretly, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom but carries the light of those flowers, hidden, within itself, A Mother’s Prayer for Its Child By Tina Fey | Write In Color. “First, Lord: No tattoos.
May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches. May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty. When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer. Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Hope03_display.