It is very difficult for girls. They're told to look one way, but to act another way.
Forgotten calls Behind the point of lines. The void Covers sadness. Only the wind blows Rusty snow In corners. Oh, calls without spirit and without Splendor. The smiling is covered...
Realm With many other would look like - any monotonous scenery in its perspective Only here it is in spring twinkles The Evening Star, as baby in embryo RightWords Translation
Harvest I will lose myself: and I carry in mouth the bitter language: an infinite of white bodies I have remembered on whose womb I hoped to sit my tone belonging to an ideal of...
In poetry often the idea is sacrificed for rhyme as private life for social situations.
My thought If I could I’d tie my thought And to heavy chains I’d seize Maybe then, willing or not It will finally appease For, without letting me know It would always go...
I wish ... I wish ... To let ourselves be killed again monotonically By the arrows thrown by Cupid. I wish ... A drop of scented rain To wash the black past, everythinhg that was...
Mild automn as your soul Shy the light falls smoothly from hands Smelling like an abundant autumn, a late moment The love is mighty and gentle as your soul And fields full of thought and...
My words are the kisses I wish I’d said But they say kisses don’t last And words are never dead. Lines of Thought by an Unknown Author
Your a relapse of forever. Infinity explained in your eyes. Your eternity impossible.
What angel saves, /strong> What saves angel, in century, the rose from neutral coloring, I still know. Beyond, I do not know the ritual: what angel saves neurosis when the tears, in...
My anxiety poem I write a poem today it will die tomorrow. It rises on its shivering feet of words it catches my attention and pulse as a living creature in another century - higher,...
I didn't want to do poetry, but language.
Everything will be poetry, if you are good in seeing it.
The willow tree plays the water like a harp.
I say with all frankness and I must confess that my experience as a poet helped me a lot for understanding the poetry of others. Poetic experience, successful or not, has served me and serve me...
Speaking about poetry you never know if you will write after a week or never.
What is poetry which does not save nations or people?
Ravens I am feeling words as if they were some ravens with the implanted beak in my heart feeding on night after night with my blood, growing like in a nest, well warmed,...
Night moths Night moths attracted and drowned by the reflected moon for each one of us elsewhere! But anybody doesn’t see the gold necklace from lake’s neck! ......
There is one in me There is one in me who struggles to fly And another has drawn deep into the abyss To suffering and love for humans I rise an ascending with an wide open thunderlight!...