English | Spanish | French | German | Portuguese| Italian

poem for dad

se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
este é o navio da pérola
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
eu espero-o
eu tive um medo em minha vida
com os olhos meek, marrons
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
eu encho este copo
serene da tarde e brilhante verdes
três anos há hoje
uplifting, como o vento fundiu
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

  • About New York: The Gift of Prose to Soothe the Traveler (New York Times)
  • Growing Up Asian in Australia - Popmatters.com
  • Draw near, good people - New Statesman
  • Delayed Flag Day event recalls deputy - Woodland Daily Democrat
  • New Arab poetry award in memory Darwish - NDTV.com
  • THE ITINERARY - Fort Worth Star Telegram
  • Glastonbury Festival - Ents24
  • Palestinians plan big funeral for poet Darwish - Washington Post
  • Indulge yourself with a literary feast - Scoop.co.nz (press release)
  • This weeks Torah Parsha is Va`Eschanan - Israel e News
  • Four who made old Vermont the new thing - Barre Montpelier Times Argus
  • The More Personal Side of Disability Pride: Open Mic/Poetry Slam - Chicago Public Radio
  • The Great Debaters - Salon
  • Russian police told to improve their image - Telegraph.co.uk
  • Independent View: The Marriage's Rod Humble - IGN
 

Refinance your Mortgage today and save!

Florida Mortgages

December 2007 Mortgage News

Poetry | Home | Contact Us | Educational Resources | Vote For This Poem | Visitor Favorites

Summer School Help Beginner Math Physics Primer Chemistry Primer Intro Psychology English Primer
Intro Grammar Beginner Writing American History American Civil War Intro Biology Composition Help


Check out El-Grande Web Directory today!


www.endlesspoetry.com ©Copyright 2004 - 2007 Michael VanDeMar All Rights Reserved