A Spring Piece Left In The Middle (Nazim Hikmet Poem)
Taut, thick fingers punch the teeth of my typewriter. Three words are down on paper in capitals: SPRING SPRING SPRING... ...
Taut, thick fingers punch the teeth of my typewriter. Three words are down on paper in capitals: SPRING SPRING SPRING... ...
Under silver wing San Francisco's towers sprouting thru thin gas clouds, Tamalpais black-breasted above Pacific azure Berkeley hills pine-covered below-- ...
Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! Holy! The world is holy! The ...
For Carl Solomon I I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves ...
There are many that I miss having sent my last one out a car window sparking along the road one ...
if I suffer at this typewriter think how I'd feel among the lettuce- pickers of Salinas? I think of the ...
Neruda's Hat On a day when weather stole every breeze, Pablo told her he kept bits of his poems tucked ...
from my bed I watch 3 birds on a telephone wire. one flies off. then another. one is left, then ...
This is the desk I sit at and this is the desk where I love you too much and this ...
Watch out for power, for its avalanche can bury you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, ...
1. I am thirty this November. You are still small, in your fourth year. We stand watching the yellow leaves ...
Here, in the room of my life the objects keep changing. Ashtrays to cry into, the suffering brother of the ...
I am not lazy. I am on the amphetamine of the soul. I am, each day, typing out the God ...
There can be certain potions needled in the clock for the body's fall from grace, to untorture and to plead ...
I am reminiscing you; and the little boy who often stole some change from the left pocket of your pants ...
Watch out for power, for its avalanche can bury you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, ...
Live or die, but don't poison everything... Well, death's been here for a long time -- it has a hell ...
A young man is afraid of his demon and puts his hand over the demon's mouth sometimes...-- D. H. Lawrence ...
Humping it here in the dug-out, Sucking me black dudeen, I'd like to say in a general way, There's nothing ...
The poppies gleamed like bloody pools through cotton-woolly mist; The Captain kept a-lookin' at the watch upon his wrist; And ...
It's wonderful how I jog on four honed-down ivory toes my massive buttocks slipping like oiled parts with each light ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories