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mark jasinski - poet-americanpoet-american is the blog of austin based poet, painter, and photographer, mark jasinski.
http://www.poetamerican.com/
poet-american is the blog of austin based poet, painter, and photographer, mark jasinski.
http://www.poetamerican.com/
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mark jasinski - poet-american | poetamerican.com Reviews
https://poetamerican.com
poet-american is the blog of austin based poet, painter, and photographer, mark jasinski.
poetamerican.com
mark jasinski - poet-american: slow bullet through your heart
http://www.poetamerican.com/2013/01/slow-bullet-through-your-heart.html
Slow bullet through your heart. I wrote this one sometime back in the late Eighties. Why did we change-. What made you start. The slow bullet through your heart? What made you need. Had the heat run from your core? What made you pull. The slow bullet through your heart? And keeps you blind-. Hides the key to free your mind? And keeps you warm-. Holds you when you need to storm? And holds me dear-. Calms me when i shake with fear:. I know it's best. We had to part. You were a slow bullet. 169; 2013 mj.
mark jasinski - poet-american: he who comes and disappears
http://www.poetamerican.com/2013/01/he-who-comes-and-disappears.html
He who comes and disappears. I wrote this one sometime back in the mid-to-late Eighties. Liquid angels tempt the sages-. Thrown as mantra at the ears. Of he who comes and disappears. Blithering fools and pompous pawns-. Throw their dogmas at the ears. Of he who comes and disappears. He who comes and disappears-. Beyond our means- within our fears-. Leads us from where we have been. And takes us back to face again. He awaits to make us lag. He won't let us work it out. He tortures us without relief;.
mark jasinski - poet-american: down to daze
http://www.poetamerican.com/2013/02/down-to-daze.html
My head is hard. My dick is soft. Ain't had my play. Since i bought this cough. Can't feel my feelings;. Not even the noisy few. Been cooking up a better way,. But it boils down to blue. Yeah, silence is golden, but is by no means worth as much as the heart. My silence has spoken for so many years i simply started calling it art. So it could hide behind right before my eyes. So it could hide within my known. Confiding in me here and now. As my past picked at the bones. Of my future for its marrow.
mark jasinski - poet-american: mother’s day wish
http://www.poetamerican.com/2013/05/mothers-day-wish.html
Mother’s day wish. As i seek the words to match my heart—. As i sit and freely think of you. And how you gave of yourself through my life—. I realize no words could ever do. And yet, i wish to offer you these words. In hopes they will, in some small way, impart. The measure and the depth of love i feel. As i hold you forever in my heart. I love you, mom. I wrote this several years ago, and while trying to work on a new one for today, I realized this one still says it all for me. 169; 2013 mj.
mark jasinski - poet-american: erotic haikus
http://www.poetamerican.com/2012/06/erotic-haikus.html
I believe I wrote these back in 2008, and just tonight stumbled upon them while going through some files. Held in your soft voice. I melt into my heaven-. Your heart sings in me. You shake beneath me. Shimmering in candle light. As i move in you. In our time apart. My memories of your touch. Sustain me in joy. I sense your essence. Upon my lips and fingers. Drawing my hand down. The small of your back—your sigh. Breathes life into me. 169; 2012 mj. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
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Max Martins
Segunda-feira, 11 de abril de 2011. Poema do Dia #4 - Estranho. Não entenderás o meu dialeto. Nem compreenderás os meus costumes. Mas ouvirei sempre as tuas canções. E todas as noites procurarás meu corpo. Terei as carícias dos teus seios brancos. Iremos amiúde ver o mar. E não me amarás como estrangeiro. O estranho, 1952). Compartilhar com o Pinterest. Quarta-feira, 6 de abril de 2011. Poema do Dia #3 - A Fera. Das cavernas do sono das palavras, dentre. Os lábios confortáveis de um poema lido. E que tua...
JOSE GA
Tuesday, August 26, 2008. Foto em preto e branco. Window at the Borderline by etereal. Embora eu goste do jasmim,. A brancura das coisas desgosta-me,. Recorda-me o lençol de meu pai (1989),. Recorda-me a neutralidade dos países não aliados nas últimas guerras,. Gratuitamente, desencadeadas,. Recorda-me a minha infância, branca como a neve, com voz sem gelo,. Recordar-me o papel de fumar para enrolar um cigarro às escondidas de minha mãe. Recorda-me o meu tempo de neve à Saravejo (1980),. Com a mesma gente.
poetamenos
Quarta-feira, abril 08, 2009. Http:/ poetamenos.wordpress.com/. Servindo bem para servir sempre. Posted by xinho @ 10:46 PM 1 comments. Terça-feira, abril 07, 2009. Faz de conta que te dei um tapa. Posted by xinho @ 9:58 PM 1 comments. Terça-feira, março 31, 2009. Se eu fosse escrever um livro. Seria algo muito complexo. Inventaria uma história de tramas e tremores. Que iria se expandindo. Evaporando em si mesma. Vapores novelísticos de primeiríssima qualidade. Só não seria um poema. Mas ao menos é amor.
poetamenos
Entra e não sai. Faz de conta que te dei um tapa. Se eu fosse escrever um livro. Seria algo muito complexo. Inventaria uma história de tramas e tremores. Que iria se expandindo. Evaporando em si mesma. Vapores novelísticos de primeiríssima qualidade. Só não seria um poema. Pois isso sim é mais simples. Ela não conseguiu dizer até logo. Enquanto isso, sentada à mesa, desenhava com migalhas sobre a toalha escura. tracejava farelos em torno da faca. da colher. Não, não seria possível até logo. A rua não mais.
PoetaMente
mark jasinski - poet-american
Someday yet to be. Words for no one fell like leaves into a stream,. Trickled down, forgotten like a childhood dream,. Perhaps to resurface in a future memory. Triggered by a moment that is someday yet to be. 169; 2015 mj. I often dream of angels. Living right here on the earth,. Living like the rest of us -. Buried in their own self-worth. 169; 2015 mj. I misunderstood the words hanging from her breath. Her tears were my rebirth – my lack, her second death. 169; 2015 mj. Making a miracle- making its bed-.
Poeta Mexicana
Poesía, Emprendimiento, Inspiración. Enero 2, 2017. De entre la quietud del mar apareció como un tremendo fuego aquel volcán. Sus humaredas hacían señas de rescate a la barca que tomé para llegar a nuestro reencuentro. A medida que me acercaba a él podía escuchar su voz…. Diciembre 4, 2016. Mi vida está cambiando. Septiembre 7, 2016. Hoy es mi Cumple. Agosto 10, 2016. Junio 20, 2016. Junio 7, 2016. Hoy caminé por esta ciudad, como hace tiempo que no lo hacía. Por las calles me topé con seres de todos...
Miguel Lopes
Sou directo e corajoso, sou um romântico, um apaixonado, vivo de sentimentos e dou valor a pequenos gestos, a pequenas palavras mas com grandes significados, sou um poeta, no meio das minhas palavras. Read more about me. Lorem Ipsum Dolor comet. Proximo texto " Comenta e atribui uma pontuaçao de 1 a 10 a cada texto! Domingo, 30 de janeiro de 2011 Publicada por Miguel Lopes. Eu penso em ti e sonho contigo. Eu quero-te e preciso de ti do meu lado. Se me amas, olha nos meus olhos e diz-me que “ sim &#...
poetamiguelmariscal.blogspot.com
Miguel Mariscal
Jueves, 20 de noviembre de 2014. Un tal Miguel Mariscal nació en Guadalajara Jalisco, por el mes de septiembre, y con. Más penas que glorias terminó. Básicos, logrando así la Licenciatura de. Las letras se le añadieron a raíz de su padre, otro tal Alfredo Martínez, alias. 8211;por la historieta de. La zorra y el cuervo. Hasta la victoria siempre”. Hoy, este tal Miguel Mariscal ha devuelto algunas letras a la intemperie del lenguaje. De pepenador de palabras. Alfredo O. Arpiz (poeta). Lo que se pretende.
