poetry

poetry

Cuando vayamos al maryo te diré mi secreto:Me envuelve, pero no es ola...Me amarga..., pero no es sal...

Cuando vayamos al maryo te diré mi secreto:Me envuelve, pero no es ola...Me amarga..., pero no es sal...

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

...they come to us, these restless dead,Shrouds woven from the words of men,With trumpets sounding overhead(The walls of hope have grown so thinAnd all our vaunted innocenceHas withered in this endless frost)That promise little recompenseFor all we risk, for all we've lost...

...they come to us, these restless dead,Shrouds woven from the words of men,With trumpets sounding overhead(The walls of hope have grown so thinAnd all our vaunted innocenceHas withered in this endless frost)That promise little recompenseFor all we risk, for all we've lost...

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

A poem should not meanBut be.

A poem should not meanBut be.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

When a group of people get up from a table, the table doesn’tknow which way any of them will go.

When a group of people get up from a table, the table doesn’tknow which way any of them will go.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

And here, in thought, to thee-In thought that can alone, Ascend thy empire and so be A partner of thy throne, By winged Fantasy, My embassy is given, Till secrecy shall knowledge be In the environs of Heaven.

And here, in thought, to thee-In thought that can alone, Ascend thy empire and so be A partner of thy throne, By winged Fantasy, My embassy is given, Till secrecy shall knowledge be In the environs of Heaven.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

I can't even make up a rhyme about an umbrella, let alone death and life and eternal peace.

I can't even make up a rhyme about an umbrella, let alone death and life and eternal peace.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood— Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

THERE is something in the autumn that is native to my blood— Touch of manner, hint of mood; And my heart is like a rhyme, With the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

One breath taken completely; one poem, fully written, fully read - in such a moment, anything can happen.

One breath taken completely; one poem, fully written, fully read - in such a moment, anything can happen.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Four billion people on this earthbut my imagination is still the same.It's bad with large numbers.It's still taken by particularity.It flits in the dark like a flashlight,illuminating only random faceswhile all the rest go by,never coming to mind and never really missed.

Four billion people on this earthbut my imagination is still the same.It's bad with large numbers.It's still taken by particularity.It flits in the dark like a flashlight,illuminating only random faceswhile all the rest go by,never coming to mind and never really missed.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

it's so easy to be a poetand so hard to be a man.

it's so easy to be a poetand so hard to be a man.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

Had we but world enough, and time

Had we but world enough, and time

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

And then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile I ever saw.

And then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the saddest smile I ever saw.

Nov 24, 2024 - Fabian Biese>

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