Poetry
Yufa and
Poetry
The Invitation
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are... See more
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are... See more
Esther Ekhart • The Invitation, a poem by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
beautiful poem
Film, Music & Poetry
MargaretC • 4 cards
Tell a wise person or else keep silent
for those who do not understand
will mock it right away.
for those who do not understand
will mock it right away.
Poetic Outlaws • The Holy Longing
James Joyce to his wife:
My prick was stuck in you for hours, fucking in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and saw your flushed face and mad eyes. At every fuck I gave you your shameless tongue came bursting out through your lips and if a gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual, fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole.
Poetry fearlessly enters the horizon of the unknowable, the fuzzy. It lives there. That is why it is so significant in an uncertain, threatened time like ours.
Mike Kauschke • The Poetic Art of Living in a Time Between Worlds - Emerge
She has a soul full of beautiful dreams, and I have strong hands that can make anything real. She shines like the morning sun and plays like the spring breeze, and I have my feet solidly in the dirt. She has endless lifetimes of torment and transcendence in her eyes, and I have endless healing in my touch. What are we? I have no idea. How are we?... See more
Jesse Crossen • Analog Love
As it has been said:
Love and a cough
cannot be concealed.
Even a small cough.
Even a small love.
Love and a cough
cannot be concealed.
Even a small cough.
Even a small love.
That Enthusiasm and Life may not cease: arise Spectre arise!
