The future belongs to all who, refusing to look back at the past move ahead with the clock as it ticks.

Your whispers are gentle echoes that sway ardent winds of harmony and in the symphony of life each word is wrapped in rhapsody… Dance with me within the wind… Let me love You…

Little Maiden Encounters FearDeepest regions walked she therelittle maiden sweet and fairventured far from the pathnever a whispernever a laugh…

Saturated Arrogance…she rebuked those about herin darkness did she dwella pathetic historyall mortal man would tell..

But tears are an indulgence. Memory sings.

aku kembali lagi ke dalam elok puisimencari pelepasan atau sekedar rindumaukah ikut bersamaku menjadi burung terbang bebas pada lanskap senjamaukah ikut bersamaku menjadi kabut pada segenggam gelap subuhmaukah ikut bersamaku menjadi embun di daunatau ingin...

Shade for a manAnd shelter for animals,Planted in your name,May you be the same for those around you,Every year the same.

I will love you with too many commas, but never any asterisks.

Katie says, “You can’t choose the time and place the when and where with whom you fall in love.”She says, “It just happens like that weird feeling you get right before you fall asleep when...

Poems ought to reflect the work the poet does, and his relationships with other people, and family, and institutions, and organization.

TREE HOUSEA tree house, a free house,A secret you and me house,A high up in the leafy branchesCozy as can be house.A street house, a neat house,Be sure to wipe your feet houseIs not my...

J’aime la folle cruauté des chimères qu’on apprivoise.

Music does not need the language of words for it has movements of dance to do its translation.

Tis the wink of an eye, ’tis the draught of a breath,From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud-Oh! why should the spirit of...

A stream of primal voicesWhispering in the breeze of your heartTo urge you on.

Of all the days dropped in time’s pocketThis day will seek acknowledgement with a child’s shy asking, because the love between us used no word uncommoner than coffee, and was never traced by graphs of...

And guard you well from violent menWho’d put you back in the shafts again.”But the ass had far too wise a headTo answer one of the things I said,So he twitched his fair ears up...

Shine and shimmer my Harvest Moon,illuminate the shadows in the sky.

the price of creationis nevertoo high.the price of livingwith other peoplealwaysis.

I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.

Yet, beauty cannot be forgotten,Eternal Wisdom can never die …

Shall the dire day break when lifefinds us merely husband and wifewith passion not so much deniedas neatly laundered and put asideand the old joyous insistencetrimmed to placid coexistence?Shall we sometime arise from bedwith not...

God promised you to give you dreams and visions, see Him as your great dream/vision giver.

La raison qui m’a conduit à proférer de la poésie (shi‘r) est que j’ai vu en songe un ange qui m’apportait un morceau de lumière blanche ; on eût dit qu’il provenait du soleil. « Qu’est-ce que...

That’s what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you’re not sure what the poet’s talking about. You may have an idea, but you can’t be sure. Not a hundred...

Di gran furore si pregna il suo scheletro,bagliori saettano, uscendo e rientrandoda essa come rincorsi durante una fuga.Sembra un dio del cielo, pieno di boria,quando ai mortali si appresta a elargiredoni che celano invero soltanto...

We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.

Four simple chambers.A thousand complicated doors.One of them is yours.

If their tears could be read,as the blind can read brailleWould your eyes then be openedto another & how they feel?Without condemnation or any aversions from withinCould you set aside judgementwhile seeking total absolution?

We write about love like we should be bound in padded rooms.

an English girl might well believethat time is how you spend your love.

While I was looking the other way your fire went outLeft me with cinders to kick into dustWhat a waste of the wonder you wereIn my living fire I will keep your scorn and mineIn...

Lo que yo quiero, corazón cobarde,es que mueras por mí.Y morirme contigo si te matasy matarme contigo si te mueresporque el amor cuando no muere mataporque amores que matan nunca mueren.

MotherHushed and sacred silencefills the dawning skyI ponder in this momentof our journey which is nigh…

At sunset, on the river ban, KrishnaLoved her for the last time and left. . .That night in her husband’s arms, Radha feltSo dead that he asked, What is wrong,Do you mind my kisses, love?...

If you’re frightened of the countless number of books in the library, you’ll never write anything, until you close your eyes and hold the pen.

I will meet you on the nape of your neck one day, on the surface of intention, word becoming act.We will breathe into each other the high mountain tales, where the snows come from, where...

If love and beauty were easy to find, they would not exist.Chaos and sadness exist in order for you to find the love and beauty in them. So that love and beauty mean something.It’s meant...

Determined, I riseand face the dawn with resolve.This time I will win.

We made love outdoors—without a roof, I like most, without stove, my favorite place, assuming the weather be fair and balmy, and the earth beneath be clean. Our souls intertwined and dripping with dew, and...

For I dance And drink and sing,Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing.If thought is lifeAnd strength and breathAnd the wantOf thought is deathThen am IA happy flyIf I liveOr if I die

But the seawhich no one tendsis also a garden

My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here;My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer;A-chasing the wild-deer, and following the roe,My heart’s in the Highlands wherever I go.

If you opened the dictionary and searched for the meaning of a Goddess, you would find the reflection of a dancing lady.

I am 15 and you are 51, I know you are the best, to be loved by, everyone.

No sun—no moon! No morn—no noon—No dawn— No sky—no earthly view— No distance looking blue—No road—no street—no “t’other side the way”— No end to any Row— No indications where the Crescents go— No top to...

But how conceive a God supremely good/ Who heaps his favours on the sons he loves,/ Yet scatters evil with as large a hand?[Written after an earthquake in Lisbon killed over 15,000 people]

But then you left exactly how all the sad songs said you would

My cup is yellowOr not, though not’sImpossibleIt’s yellow

And it seems people should not build houses anymoreit seems people should stop working and sit in small rooms on second floorsunder electric lightswithout shades;it seems there is a lot to forgetand a lot not...