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angel4hope

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ohh my thatsaa i have no words im just perplexed and blahhed...... i think this should be on some XXX rated armenian channel or soemthing...rubbing down with oli....???? love is like a hand in a glove??? does that have anything to do with that one joke Extra had about a glove? i hope not... lol....but that was just a weirdness....kept me laughing though :P

awww its cute think outside the s word :D

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DREAMER

by Michelle Keesling

Climbing higher mountains

 

I will not descend downward

 

Until after I have conquered that fear

 

Clasping stars within my hands

 

They shall not stray from my touch

 

I am a dreamer

 

My wings lie in my mind

 

Where they allow me to divide the clouds

 

As I ascend through their cotton-like tufts

 

One cannot pierce my heart with any arrow

 

It is filled with pure bliss and compassion

 

No one will ever be able to seize that from me

 

Although at times my eyes may look wounded

 

My strength has never fled

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  • 2 weeks later...

And Now You´re Mine

Pablo Neruda

 

And now you're mine. Rest with your dream in my dream.

Love and pain and work should all sleep now.

The night turns on its invisible wheels,

and you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber.

No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams. You will go,

we will go together, over the waters of time.

No one else will travel through the shadows with me,

only you, evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.

Your hands have already opened their delicate fists

and let their soft drifting signs drop away,

your eyes closed like two gray wings, and I move

after, following the folding water you carry, that carries me away.

The night, the world, the wind spin out their destiny.

Without you, I am your dream, only that, and that is all.

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Poem Number: 99

Poem lyrics of There Is No Frigate Like A Book by Emily Dickinson.

 

There is no frigate like a book

To take us lands away,

Nor any coursers like a page

Of prancing poetry.

This traverse may the poorest take

Without oppress of toll;

How frugal is the chariot

That bears a human soul!

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AWAKENING...

By John McLeod

Awakening, dawn's chorus

Welcoming,

The day new, untouched

Waiting to be filled....

 

And will we paint a rainbow

With all its promise

Or dull the canvas

Sadly seen?

 

Each day brings its own colours

To be chosen, mixed,

Pigments of joy,

Happy moments,

Smiles and laughter....

 

And which will you choose?

For 'Life' is choice,

We are all painters

In our own way,

All needing to create

Something of worth,

Of lasting beauty,

Marking our journey....

 

Footprints in the sand....

 

The sky today is azure,

The sun warm and golden

A filigree of light and shadow-play

Through the gently swaying trees.

 

I clean my brushes,

Choose my palette

Of vibrant, living colours,

And begin to fill

Today's blank canvas

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  • 2 weeks later...

Feb. 26th '02

 

I am a wound

My dressings are my pillows

A sad head I rest

In the exhaustion of pain

There is pretence in your words

My reaction is justified

I will act like a stranger

'Cause you think I'm insane

 

 

If I were to be a smile

Lost in confusion

The dance in your eyes

Would illustrate a care

But I was born a wound

And due to my anguish

You won't grant me sympathy

Your sould does not dare

 

 

Why do all humans

Shy away from any pain

Lives filed with truth

That they do not accept

If they were born wounds

They would share in my tears

And sadly their lives

Would be filled with regret

posted by Anna Tumadottir at

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Desert Pools

by Sara Teasdale

 

 

I love too much; I am a river

Surging with spring that seeks the sea,

I am too generous a giver,

Love will not stoop to drink of me.

 

His feet will turn to desert places

Shadowless, reft of rain and dew,

Where stars stare down with sharpened faces

From heavens pitilessly blue.

 

And there at midnight sick with faring,

He will stoop down in his desire

To slake the thirst grown past all bearing

In stagnant water keen as fire.

Edited by koko
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III. Lessons

by Sara Teasdale

 

Unless I learn to ask no help

From any other soul but mine,

To seek no strength in waving reeds

Nor shade beneath a straggling pine;

Unless I learn to look at Grief

Unshrinking from her tear-blind eyes,

And take from Pleasure fearlessly

Whatever gifts will make me wise --

Unless I learn these things on earth,

Why was I ever given birth?

Edited by koko
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"Because I could not stop for Death," by Emily Dickinson

 

Because I could not stop for Death,

He kindly stopped for me;

The carriage held but just ourselves

And Immortality.

 

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,

And I had put away

My labour, and my leisure too,

For his civility.

 

We passed the school where children played,

Their lessons scarcely done;

We passed the fields of gazing grain,

We passed the setting sun.

 

We paused before a house that seemed

A swelling of the ground;

The roof was scarcely visible,

The cornice but a mound.

 

Since then 'tis centuries; but each

Feels shorter than the day

I first surmised the horses' heads

Were toward eternity.

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