Thơ ca là thứ vô cùng phù phiếm nhưng vô cùng thiêng liêng. Tôi tin ngay. Cũng như tôi tin ở trền đời có những thứ vô cùng thiêng liêng nhưng vô cùng phù phiếm. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
one must verge on the unknown, write toward the truth hitherto unrecognizable of one’s own sincerity, including the avoidable beauty of doom, shame, and embarrassment, that very area of personal self-recognition,(detailed individual is universal remember) which formal conventions, internalized, keep us from discovering in ourselves and others Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
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 our love for each other was seen. Our love for the world was new. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
yo te amo para comenzar a amarte,para recomenzar el infinitoy para no dejar de amarte nunca:por eso no te amo todavía. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
A poet is an unhappy being whose heart is torn by secret suffrings, but whose lips are so strangely formed that when the sighs and the cries escape them, they sound like beautiful music. People corwd around the poet and say to him: "Sing for us soon again;" that is as much to say, "May new sufferings torment your soul. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
From the shadow of domes in the city of domes,A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your roomAnd made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking upFrom your book, saw it the moment it landed. That's allThere was to it. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
The touch of your fingersgrazing minedelicate asa single drop of winein a crystal goblet.Rolling it round,I savor it on my tongue,try tomake it lastforever.The words Iloveyouform in the airand melt. Your palm againstmy cheek,light asa snowflake. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Stani walks in later, glaring at them both.“Bloody bastards. One minute punching each other, next minute reading poetry. What’s wrong with everyone this week?”Tom can tell that Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Here they have no time for the fine gracesof poetry, unless it freely growsin deep compulsion, like water in the well,woven into the texture of the soilin a strong pattern. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
Poetry purrs like a kitten on the tip of our tongue. Each word fluidly floating from our lips, like little crystalline snowflakes, before settling onto an emotional wonderland of forgotten feelings. It has the power to pull our deepest emotions to the surface of consciousness and to serenade our soul with the haunting melody of a self, lost... and finally found. Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>
