poetry

poetry

Straight between them ran the pathway,Never grew the grass upon it

Straight between them ran the pathway,Never grew the grass upon it

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

O friend unseen, unborn, unknown,Student of our sweet English tongue,Read out my words at night, alone:I was a poet, I was young.Since I can never see your face,And never shake you by the hand,I send my soul through time and spaceTo greet you. You will understand.

O friend unseen, unborn, unknown,Student of our sweet English tongue,Read out my words at night, alone:I was a poet, I was young.Since I can never see your face,And never shake you by the hand,I send my soul through time and spaceTo greet you. You will understand.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Spend all you have for loveliness,Buy it and never count the cost;For one white singing hour of peaceCount many a year of strife well lost,And for a breath of ecstasyGive all you have been, or could be.

Spend all you have for loveliness,Buy it and never count the cost;For one white singing hour of peaceCount many a year of strife well lost,And for a breath of ecstasyGive all you have been, or could be.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Then all the charm Is broken--all that phantom-world so fair Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread, And each mis-shape the other.

Then all the charm Is broken--all that phantom-world so fair Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread, And each mis-shape the other.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Once upon a timeI fell in loveLost myselfAnd find another one.

Once upon a timeI fell in loveLost myselfAnd find another one.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

What do I care, in the dreams and the languor of spring,That my songs do not show me at all?For they are a fragrance, and I am a flint and a fire,I am an answer, they are only a call

What do I care, in the dreams and the languor of spring,That my songs do not show me at all?For they are a fragrance, and I am a flint and a fire,I am an answer, they are only a call

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Every poet has his dream reader: mine keeps a look out for curious prosodic fauna like bacchics and choriambs.

Every poet has his dream reader: mine keeps a look out for curious prosodic fauna like bacchics and choriambs.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

what if I fall? oh, my darling, but if you fly?

what if I fall? oh, my darling, but if you fly?

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

The business of love is cruelty which,by our wills, we transform to live together.

The business of love is cruelty which,by our wills, we transform to live together.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

I had a dove and the sweet dove died; And I have thought it died of grieving: O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied, With a silken thread of my own hand's weaving.

I had a dove and the sweet dove died; And I have thought it died of grieving: O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied, With a silken thread of my own hand's weaving.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Slogans are mere wordsuck...

Slogans are mere wordsuck...

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

O, how this spring of love resemblethThe uncertain glory of an April day,Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,And by and by a cloud takes all away!

O, how this spring of love resemblethThe uncertain glory of an April day,Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,And by and by a cloud takes all away!

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

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