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besmir
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icon Re: Poezija

Evo opet moje omiljene Ane Ahmatove!

Umjesto posvete

Valovima lutala, šumom se krila
Priviđala se na emajlu sebi
Rastanak bih, možda, hrabro primila
Ali susret, bojim se, ne bih...

31-08-2007 at 12:57 | Uključi u odgovor
Sufler
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icon Re: Poezija

Žeđ

I da se vratim s tisuće rana,
na prag kućni kad stanem,
ne nosi vode,
ni zavoja -
tijelom mi povij rane.

Enes Kišević

01-09-2007 at 18:54 | Uključi u odgovor
laly
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icon Re: Poezija

moderato cantabile

Rijeka donosi jesen
Dugo umire grad
I u nama toliko ljeta
Mi smo sirocad svijeta.

Reci, da li ces nocas
Moci ostavit sve
Svoju kucu, navike, ljude
I poci, a ne znati gdje?

Neka svi mrznjom isprate nas
Ali, draga, zivot ceka, sad je cas.
Citav svijet bit ce nas novi dom
Neka kazu: "Avantura je to!"

Nikad zaliti neces
Svoje stvari, ime, ni grad
I u hladnoj sobi hotela
Bit ces slobodna sad.

Neka svi mrznjom isprate nas
Ali, draga, zivot ceka, sad je cas!
Citav svijet bit ce nas novi dom
Neka kazu: "Avantura je to!"

Duga, ocajna kisa
Magla zastire zrak
Nekim putem, tijesno kroz jesen,
Nas ce odvesti vlak.

Arsen Dedic

01-09-2007 at 23:14 | Uključi u odgovor
besmir
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icon Re: Poezija

Sarah Bernhardt Jean Richepinu


"Carry me off into the blue skies of tender loves, roll me in dark clouds, tramp me with your thunderstorms, break me in your angry rages. But love me, my adored love."


02-09-2007 at 03:20 | Uključi u odgovor
laly
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icon Re: Poezija

A Lower East Side Poem

by Miguel Piñero


Just once before I die
I want to climb up on a tenement sky
to dream my lungs out till I cry
then scatter my ashes thru
the Lower East Side.


So let me sing my song tonight
let me feel out of sight
and let all eyes be dry
when they scatter my ashes thru
the Lower East Side.


From Houston to 14th Street
from Second Avenue to the mighty D
here the hustlers and suckers meet
the faggots and freaks will all get high
on the ashes that have been scattered
thru the Lower East Side.


There’s no other place for me to be
There’s no other place that I can see
there’s no other town around that
brings you up or keeps you down
no food little heat sweeps by
fancy cars and pimps’ bars and juke saloons
and greasy spoons make my spirits fly
with my ashes scattered thru the
Lower East Side


A thief, a junkie I’ve been
committed every known sin
Jews and Gentiles…Bums and Men
of style-run away child
police shooting wild
mother’s futile wails
pushers making sales dope wheelers
and cocaine dealers smoking pot
streets are hot and feed off those who bleed to death
all that’s true
all that’s true
all that is true
but this ain’t no lie
when I ask that my ashes be scattered thru
the Lower East Side.


So here I am, look at me
I stand proud as you can see
pleased to be from the Lower East
a street fighting man
a problem of this land
I am the Philosopher of the Criminal Mind
a dweller of prison time
a cancer of Rockefeller’s ghettocide
this concrete tomb is my home
to belong to survive you gotta be strong
you can’t be shy less without request
someone will scatter your ashes thru
the Lower East Side.


I don’t wanna be buried in Puerto Rico
I don’t wanna rest in long island cemetery
I wanna be near the stabbing shooting
gambling fighting and unnatural dying
and new birth crying
so please when I die
don’t take me far away
keep me near by
take my ashes and scatter them thru out
the Lower East Side.

04-09-2007 at 00:55 | Uključi u odgovor
smor
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icon Re: Re: Poezija

citat:
laly wrote:
A Lower East Side Poem

by Miguel Piñero


Just once before I die
I want to climb up on a tenement sky
to dream my lungs out till I cry
then scatter my ashes thru
the Lower East Side.


So let me sing my song tonight
let me feel out of sight
and let all eyes be dry
when they scatter my ashes thru
the Lower East Side.


From Houston to 14th Street
from Second Avenue to the mighty D
here the hustlers and suckers meet
the faggots and freaks will all get high
on the ashes that have been scattered
thru the Lower East Side.


There’s no other place for me to be
There’s no other place that I can see
there’s no other town around that
brings you up or keeps you down
no food little heat sweeps by
fancy cars and pimps’ bars and juke saloons
and greasy spoons make my spirits fly
with my ashes scattered thru the
Lower East Side


A thief, a junkie I’ve been
committed every known sin
Jews and Gentiles…Bums and Men
of style-run away child
police shooting wild
mother’s futile wails
pushers making sales dope wheelers
and cocaine dealers smoking pot
streets are hot and feed off those who bleed to death
all that’s true
all that’s true
all that is true
but this ain’t no lie
when I ask that my ashes be scattered thru
the Lower East Side.


So here I am, look at me
I stand proud as you can see
pleased to be from the Lower East
a street fighting man
a problem of this land
I am the Philosopher of the Criminal Mind
a dweller of prison time
a cancer of Rockefeller’s ghettocide
this concrete tomb is my home
to belong to survive you gotta be strong
you can’t be shy less without request
someone will scatter your ashes thru
the Lower East Side.


I don’t wanna be buried in Puerto Rico
I don’t wanna rest in long island cemetery
I wanna be near the stabbing shooting
gambling fighting and unnatural dying
and new birth crying
so please when I die
don’t take me far away
keep me near by
take my ashes and scatter them thru out
the Lower East Side.

You gotta really, really love it to wish to be burried there...
04-09-2007 at 01:10 | Uključi u odgovor
smor
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icon Re: Re: Poezija

citat:
laly wrote:


eh kad smao prica o sahranama, parcelama, grobljima, djedu koji jos nije umro a ne zna kad ce

Evo ti onda master...Edgar Allan Poe "Spirits of the Dead"


Thy soul shall find itself alone
´Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.

Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness- for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.

The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne´er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.

The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!
04-09-2007 at 01:29 | Uključi u odgovor
laly
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icon Re: Poezija

kad smo vec kod Poe meni najdraza
Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago
In a kingdom by the sea
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that long ago
In this kingdom by the sea
A wind blew out of a cloud chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels not half so happy in heaven
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so all the night-tide I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride
In the sepulchre there by the sea
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

04-09-2007 at 01:37 | Uključi u odgovor
smor
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icon Re: Re: Poezija

citat:
laly wrote:
kad smo vec kod Poe meni najdraza
Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago
In a kingdom by the sea
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that long ago
In this kingdom by the sea
A wind blew out of a cloud chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels not half so happy in heaven
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so all the night-tide I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride
In the sepulchre there by the sea
In her tomb by the sounding sea.



As much a romantic as Poe can be...

et, a i ovdje nekakvi grobovi by the sea...djaba ti, nema ti pomoci...
04-09-2007 at 01:47 | Uključi u odgovor
besmir
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IP: Maskiran


icon Re: Poezija

Aman, žene drage! Osjećaj morbidnosti je haman prelazan! :lol :lol :lol Evo ova mi je dobra, predobra za stanje u kojem se nalazim!

FG Lorka:

A POSLIJE

Iščezavaju
labirinti
što ih vrijeme stvara.

(Samo pustoš
ostaje.)

Iščezava
srce,
izvor želja.

(Samo pustoš
ostaje.)

Iluzija zore
i poljupci,
sve iščezava.

Samo pustoš
ostaje.
Pustoš
valovita.

07-09-2007 at 03:55 | Uključi u odgovor
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