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writing poetry

nós não éramos muitos
simplesmente falando
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
é frequentemente não assim?
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
em todas as coisas não faladas de
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
a lua levantando-se escondeu as estrelas
pharaoh, rei da terra de Egipto
estes corações foram tecidos de alegrias e de cuidados humanos

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

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  • Library Doings - Alameda Sun
  • Dude, here's your ranch (The Standard-Times)
  • Being Prepared - The Bulletin
  • Thomas Newman hears the music of the 22nd century for Pixar - iFMagazine
  • Osama bin Laden, Bard of Terror - Guardian Unlimited
  • Man releases pain of past with poems - South Washington County Bulletin
  • 24-Hour Funcast (Erie Times-News)
  • Pitching an Agent: 'Build a Brand' - Mediabistro.com
 

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