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[CENTER][B]Flights of Fantasy[/B]
How the flights of fantasy can bewilder some. How it can capture loneliness make it flee and run, And turn the tables inside out, The cry into a shout, Can make the unexpected fun, The expected cease to come. Yes! strange that path of fantasy makes happier the mind, Makes brighter, lighter, the joy within which rings and sings and climbs. Flights can come and flights can go And flights can come between And you'll find that I'll be riding there Where the forest meets the green. Yes, I'll ride the wings of fantasy, of wonder, love and light, And I'll ride them here, and I'll ride them there, through the winding paths of night. And I'll sing to you of that rainbow high Of its lovely, lofty light, Of those wonderful, enchanted Isles Yes, my fantasies of Flight! By Linda A.[/CENTER] |
[B][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]Once In A Lifetime
[/COLOR][/SIZE][/B] [SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]Once in a lifetime,[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]you find someone special,[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]your lives intermingle,[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]and somehow you know . . .[/COLOR][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]This is the beginning[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]of all you have longed for,[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]a love you can build on,[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]a love that will grow . . .[/COLOR][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]Once in a lifetime,[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]to those who are lucky,[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]a miracle happens[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]and dreams all come true--[/COLOR][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]I know it can happen,[/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]it happened to me, for I've found [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]my "once in a lifetime" [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black] [/COLOR][/SIZE][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black]with you.[/COLOR][/SIZE] [B][SIZE=2][COLOR=Black][I]Author Unknown[/I][/COLOR][/SIZE][/B] |
[CENTER][B] Inaugural Poem[/B]
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since departed, Marked the mastodon. The dinosaur, who left dry tokens Of their sojourn here On our planet floor, Any broad alarm of their hastening doom Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages. But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully, Come, you may stand upon my Back and face your distant destiny, But seek no haven in my shadow. I will give you no more hiding place down here. You, created only a little lower than The angels, have crouched too long in The bruising darkness, Have lain too long Face down in ignorance. Your mouths spilling words Armed for slaughter. The Rock cries out today, you may stand on me, But do not hide your face. Across the wall of the world, A River sings a beautiful song, Come rest here by my side. Each of you a bordered country, Delicate and strangely made proud, Yet thrusting perpetually under siege. Your armed struggles for profit Have left collars of waste upon My shore, currents of debris upon my breast. Yet, today I call you to my riverside, If you will study war no more. Come, Clad in peace and I will sing the songs The Creator gave to me when I and the Tree and the stone were one. Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your Brow and when you yet knew you still Knew nothing. The River sings and sings on. There is a true yearning to respond to The singing River and the wise Rock. So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew The African and Native American, the Sioux, The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh, The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher, The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher. They hear. They all hear The speaking of the Tree. Today, the first and last of every Tree Speaks to humankind. Come to me, here beside the River. Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River. Each of you, descendant of some passed On traveller, has been paid for. You, who gave me my first name, you Pawnee, Apache and Seneca, you Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of Other seekers--desperate for gain, Starving for gold. You, the Turk, the Swede, the German, the Scot ... You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare Praying for a dream. Here, root yourselves beside me. I am the Tree planted by the River, Which will not be moved. I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree I am yours--your Passages have been paid. Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need For this bright morning dawning for you. History, despite its wrenching pain, Cannot be unlived, and if faced With courage, need not be lived again. Lift up your eyes upon The day breaking for you. Give birth again To the dream. Women, children, men, Take it into the palms of your hands. Mold it into the shape of your most Private need. Sculpt it into The image of your most public self. Lift up your hearts Each new hour holds new chances For new beginnings. Do not be wedded forever To fear, yoked eternally To brutishness. The horizon leans forward, Offering you space to place new steps of change. Here, on the pulse of this fine day You may have the courage To look up and out upon me, the Rock, the River, the Tree, your country. No less to Midas than the mendicant. No less to you now than the mastodon then. Here on the pulse of this new day You may have the grace to look up and out And into your sister's eyes, into Your brother's face, your country And say simply Very simply With hope Good morning. [B][I][U][SIZE=2]By Maya Angelou[/SIZE][/U][/I][/B] [/CENTER] |
[B][COLOR=#444444][FONT='Times New Roman']Pst![/FONT][/COLOR][/B]
[B][COLOR=#444444][FONT='Times New Roman'][/FONT][/COLOR][/B][B][COLOR=#444444][FONT=Verdana][/FONT][/COLOR][/B] [SIZE=3][B][COLOR=#444444][FONT='Times New Roman']Es gibt ja leider Sachen und Geschichten, Die reizend und pikant, Nur werden sie von Tanten und von Nichten Niemals genannt. Verehrter Freund, so sei denn nicht vermessen, Sei zart und schweig auch du. Bedenk: Man liebt den Käse wohl, indessen Man deckt ihn zu. [/FONT][/COLOR][/B][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][B][COLOR=#444444][FONT='Times New Roman'][SIZE=2][/SIZE][/FONT][/COLOR][/B][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][B][COLOR=#444444][FONT='Times New Roman'][/FONT][/COLOR][/B][/SIZE] [SIZE=2][B][COLOR=#444444][FONT='Times New Roman'][SIZE=2](Wilhelm Busch)[/SIZE][/FONT][/COLOR][/B][/SIZE] |
[B][SIZE=2]Gabriela Mistral[/SIZE][/B]
[SIZE=2][/SIZE][B][SIZE=2]Adiós[/SIZE][/B] En costa lejana y en mar de Pasión, dijimos adioses sin decir adiós. Y no fue verdad la alucinación. Ni tś la creķste ni la creo yo, «y es cierto y no es cierto» como en la canción. Que yendo hacia el Sur diciendo iba yo: «Vamos hacia el mar que devora al Sol». Y yendo hacia el Norte decķa tu voz: «Vamos a ver juntos donde se hace el Sol». Ni por juego digas o exageración que nos separaron tierra y mar, que son ella, sueńo y el alucinación. No te digas solo ni pida tu voz albergue para uno al albergador. Echarįs la sombra que siempre se echó, morderįs la duna con paso de dos... Para que ninguno, ni hombre ni dios, nos llame partidos como luna y sol; para que ni roca ni viento errador, ni rķo con vado ni įrbol sombreador, aprendan y digan mentira o error del Sur y del Norte, del uno y del dos! // |
[B]A spirit passed before me [/B]
From Job A spirit passed before me: I beheld The face of immortality unveiled - Deep sleep came down on every eye save mine - And there it stood, -all formless -but divine: Along my bones the creeping flesh did quake; And as my damp hair stiffened, thus it spake: "Is man more just than God? Is man more pure Than He who deems even Seraphs insecure? Creatures of clay -vain dwellers in the dust! The moth survives you, and are ye more just? Things of a day! you wither ere the night, Heedless and blind to Wisdom's wasted light!" [I][B]Lord Byron[/B][/I] |
[CENTER] [B][FONT=Verdana,Arial,Helvetica][SIZE=3] Darkness [/SIZE][/FONT][/B]
[/CENTER] [I] by [SIZE=2]George Gordon, Lord Byron[/SIZE][/I] I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars Did wander darkling in the eternal space, Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air; Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day, And men forgot their passions in the dread Of this their desolation; and all hearts Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light: And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones, The palaces of crowned kings--the huts, The habitations of all things which dwell, Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd, And men were gather'd round their blazing homes To look once more into each other's face; Happy were those who dwelt within the eye Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch: A fearful hope was all the world contain'd; Forests were set on fire--but hour by hour They fell and faded--and the crackling trunks Extinguish'd with a crash--and all was black. The brows of men by the despairing light Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits The flashes fell upon them; some lay down And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd; And others hurried to and fro, and fed Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up With mad disquietude on the dull sky, The pall of a past world; and then again With curses cast them down upon the dust, And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd And, terrified, did flutter on the ground, And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd And twin'd themselves among the multitude, Hissing, but stingless--they were slain for food. And War, which for a moment was no more, Did glut himself again: a meal was bought With blood, and each sate sullenly apart Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left; All earth was but one thought--and that was death Immediate and inglorious; and the pang Of famine fed upon all entrails--men Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh; The meagre by the meagre were devour'd, Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one, And he was faithful to a corse, and kept The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay, Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead Lur'd their lank jaws; himself sought out no food, But with a piteous and perpetual moan, And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand Which answer'd not with a caress--he died. The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two Of an enormous city did survive, And they were enemies: they met beside The dying embers of an altar-place Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things For an unholy usage; they rak'd up, And shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath Blew for a little life, and made a flame Which was a mockery; then they lifted up Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld Each other's aspects--saw, and shriek'd, and died-- Even of their mutual hideousness they died, Unknowing who he was upon whose brow Famine had written Fiend. The world was void, The populous and the powerful was a lump, Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless-- A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay. The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still, And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths; Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea, And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd They slept on the abyss without a surge-- The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave, The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before; The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air, And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need Of aid from them--She was the Universe. |
poesie angel
[FONT=Verdana][SIZE=2]Ho nella mente un'idea di libertą...
ho nella mia vita una libertą in gabbia... scavo nei miei sogni e trovo idee infinite fuggenti attimi sussurri lievi ...di libertą. Penso, mi fermo, rincorro, ascolto... e scopro in me la libertą. La libertą č in noi, dobbiamo solo trovare il coraggio di liberarla ------------------------------------------------------------ [/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Verdana][SIZE=2] Anche le gocce d'acqua possono gelare prima di unirsi all'oceano il freddo clima dell'umanita' puo' lasciar galleggiare i pezzi di ghiaccio finche' un raggio di sole penetrera' la lastra gelata e l'oceano accogliera' nel suo seno le piccole gocce. Spero di poter un giorno essere un raggio di sole... (dal diario di Kuma) --------------------------------------------------------------- [/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Verdana][SIZE=2] Strano essere qui A macchiare di cuore un foglio bianco A intingere la penna nel profondo dell'anima Sapendo che forse nessuno capirą Nessuno che non sia stanco Nessuno che non esamini Con un brivido la fragilitą Di questo spirito in agonia. ------------------------------------------------------------- [/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Verdana][SIZE=2] Sola In mezzo alla folla Volti cari eppur ignoti Amici in dissolvenza Ostilitą come polvere.[/SIZE][/FONT] |
[B]Du und ich[/B]
Du und ich! Wunschlose Seligkeit Strömt deine Nähe über mich. Der Alltag wird zur Sonntagszeit, Unsterblich schlingt das Leben sich Um uns. Und Menschengöttlichkeit Fühl' ich bei dir durch dich. Was einst gewesen, weiß ich kaum. Die enge Welt wird weiter Raum. Und Holz wird Eisen, Eisen Holz Und Stolz wird Demut, Demut Stolz. Gar wunderbare Weisen Singt dann bei seinen Kreisen Mein Blut im Paradies für mich. Es haben alle Wünsche Ruh', - Ich weiß nicht mehr, wer bist dann du. Ich weiß nicht mehr, wer bin dann ich. |
[CENTER][B][SIZE="3"]For You My Love[/SIZE][/B]
by Sonji Rush If I came to your doorstep would you welcome me in or would you turn me away in shame? Would you take me to your family in pride of knowing me? Or say you have never heard my name? Would you caress me when we met with open arms or would you hide me away in fear of unknown harms? If I beckoned for your love would you open your heart? If I asked for your tenderness would you kiss my tears away? If I came to you willingly would you give me your love? If I whispered I love you, what would you say? I give my love freely, for it is mine to give. My love has no possessor. My life is mine to live.[/CENTER] |
[B][FONT=Times New Roman, Times, serif]Was es ist[/FONT][/B]
[FONT=Times New Roman, Times, serif][SIZE=3][B]Es ist Unsinn sagt die Vernunft Es ist was es ist sagt die Liebe Es ist Unglück sagt die Berechnung Es ist nichts als Schmerz sagt die Angst Es ist aussichtslos sagt die Einsicht Es ist was es ist sagt die Liebe Es ist lächerlich sagt der Stolz Es ist leichtsinnig sagt die Vorsicht Es ist unmöglich sagt die Erfahrung Es ist was es ist sagt die Liebe [/B][I]Erich Fried[/I][/SIZE][/FONT] |
[CENTER][SIZE="3"][B]Phenomenal Woman [/B][/SIZE]
[U]by Maya Angelou[/U] Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size But when I start to tell them, They think I'm telling lies. I say, It's in the reach of my arms The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It's the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can't touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them They say they still can't see. I say, It's in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me. Now you understand Just why my head's not bowed. I don't shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing It ought to make you proud. I say, It's in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need of my care, 'Cause I'm a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That's me.[/CENTER] |
[CENTER][B][FONT=Arial][SIZE=4][COLOR=darkorchid]FLEUR DE PAIX[/COLOR][SIZE=2][COLOR=darkorchid]
[/COLOR][/SIZE][/SIZE][/FONT][/B] [B][FONT=Arial][SIZE=4][SIZE=2] [IMG]http://www.adomonde.qc.ca/images3/fleurpaix.jpg[/IMG] [/SIZE][SIZE=+1]Q[/SIZE][COLOR=darkorchid][SIZE=2]uelque part a grandi une fleur Cette fleur contient un pouvoir Celui de faire cesser les pleurs Qui tombent quand c'est le soir noir. Pourtant pour que celle-ci s'ouvre Il faudrait que tout le monde Veulent que cette fleur on trouve Veulent la paix dans notre monde. Cette fleur elle n'est qu'un bourgeon Cette fleur elle n'est qu'illusion Ce cri de fureur qu'on entend C'est la guerre qu'ici s'étend. Cette fleur elle est comme dieu C'est une image comme on veut Ces choses auxquelles dur on croit Mais que jamais personne ne voit. Cette fleur elle est dans ma tźte Cette fleur elle est dans mon coeur Dans mon corps oł je fais la fźte Dans mes yeux d'oł tombent ces pleurs. [/SIZE] [/COLOR][/CENTER] [/SIZE][/FONT][/B] |
[SIZE="3"][B]Where the Sidewalk Ends[/B][/SIZE]
[U]by Shel Silverstein[/U] There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go, For the children, they mark, and the children, they know The place where the sidewalk ends. |
A WORK OF ARTIFICE
Marge Piercy The bonsai tree in the attractive pot could have grown eighty feet tall on the side of a mountain till split by lightning. But a gardener carefully pruned it. It is nine inches high. Every day as he whittles back the branches the gardener croons, It is your nature to be small and cozy, domestic and weak; how lucky, little tree, to have a pot to grow in. With living creatures one must begin very early to dwarf their growth: the bound feet, the crippled brain, the hair in curlers, the hands you love to touch. |
Te gjitha kohėt janė nė GMT +1. Ora tani ėshtė 11:54. |
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