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  • By Jose Marti

    I wish to leave the world
    By its natural door;
    In my tomb of green leaves
    They are to carry me to die.
    Do not put me in the dark
    To die like a traitor;
    I am good, and like a good thing
    I will die with my face to the sun
    "2 crackheads don't become any better or stronger by sharing the same crack pipe." - Greatest PF quote

    Comment


    • And i think over again
      my small adventures
      my fears,
      those small ones
      that i thought so big,
      for all the vital things
      i had to get and to reach.

      And yet there is only
      one great thing,
      the only thing.
      to live and see
      the great day that dawns
      and the light that fills the world


      from the Inuit literature, another poem 'prayer' very dear to me. i kinda absorbed it into my personality.i picked it from a movie which i can't recall now

      Comment


      • I have a white rose to tend
        In July as in January;
        I give it to the true friend
        Who offers his frank hand to me.
        And for the cruel one whose blows
        Break the heart by which I live,
        Thistle nor thorn do I give:
        For him, too, I have a white rose.

        By Jose Marti

        Original Spanish version:
        Cultivo una rosa blanca,
        En julio como en enero,
        Para el amigo sincero
        Que me da su mano franca.
        Y para el cruel que me arranca
        El corazón con que vivo,
        Cardo ni oruga cultivo:
        Cultivo la rosa blanca.
        "2 crackheads don't become any better or stronger by sharing the same crack pipe." - Greatest PF quote

        Comment


        • English Poems.


          The tree is happy because it is scarcely sentient;
          the hard rock is happier still, it feels nothing:
          there is no pain as great as being alive,
          no burden heavier than that of conscious life.

          "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





          Comment



          • Fair flower of fifteen springs, that still
            Art scarcely blossomed from the bud,
            Yet hast such store of evil will,
            A heart so full of hardihood,
            Seeking to hide in friendly wise
            The mischief of your mocking eyes.

            If you have pity, child, give o’er;
            Give back the heart you stole from me,
            Pirate, setting so little store
            On this your captive from Love’s sea,
            Holding his misery for gain,
            And making pleasure of his pain.

            Another, not so fair of face,
            But far more pitiful than you,
            Would take my heart, if of his grace,
            My heart would give her of Love’s due;
            And she shall have it, since I find
            That you are cruel and unkind.

            Nay, I would rather that it died,
            Within your white hands prisoning,
            Would rather that it still abide
            In your ungentle comforting.
            Than change its faith, and seek to her
            That is more kind, but not so fair.



            "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





            Comment




            • Tyger Tyger, burning bright,
              In the forests of the night;
              What immortal hand or eye,
              Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

              In what distant deeps or skies.
              Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
              On what wings dare he aspire?
              What the hand, dare seize the fire?

              And what shoulder, & what art,
              Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
              And when thy heart began to beat,
              What dread hand? & what dread feet?

              What the hammer? what the chain,
              In what furnace was thy brain?
              What the anvil? what dread grasp,
              Dare its deadly terrors clasp.

              When the stars threw down their spears
              And watered heaven with their tears:
              Did he smile his work to see?
              Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

              Tyger Tyger burning bright,
              In the forests of the night:
              What immortal hand or eye,
              Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

              "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





              Comment



              • I loved you, so I drew these tides of
                Men into my hands
                And wrote my will across the
                Sky and stars
                To earn you freedom, the seven
                Pillared worthy house,
                That your eyes might be
                Shining for me
                When we came

                Death seemed my servant on the
                Road, 'til we were near
                And saw you waiting:
                When you smiled and in sorrowful
                Envy he outran me
                And took you apart:
                Into his quietness

                Love, the way-weary, groped to your body,
                Our brief wage
                Ours for the moment
                Before Earth's soft hand explored your shape
                And the blind
                Worms grew fat upon
                Your substance

                Men prayed me that I set our work,
                The inviolate house,
                As a memory of you
                But for fit monument I shattered it,
                Unfinished: and now
                The little things creep out to patch
                Themselves hovels
                In the marred shadow
                Of your gift.




                "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





                Comment



                • "There is a Smile of Love
                  And there is a Smile of Deceit
                  And there is a Smile of Smiles
                  In which these two Smiles meet

                  And there is a Frown of Hate
                  And there is a Frown of disdain
                  And there is a Frown of Frowns
                  Which you strive to forget in vain

                  For it sticks in the Hearts deep Core
                  And it sticks in the deep Back bone
                  And no Smile that ever was smild
                  But only one Smile alone

                  That betwixt the Cradle & Grave
                  It only once Smild can be
                  But when it once is Smild
                  Theres an end to all Misery"




                  "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





                  Comment



                  • "I slept in the earth
                    In the silent night,
                    I murmured my fears
                    And I felt delight.

                    In the morning I went
                    As rosy as morn,
                    To seek for new joy;
                    But oh, met with scorn."




                    "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





                    Comment


                    • "Half close your eyelids, loosen your hair,
                      And dream about the great and their pride;
                      They have spoken against you everywhere,
                      But weigh this song with the great and their pride;
                      I made it out of a mouthful of air,
                      Their children's children shall say they have lied"

                      "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





                      Comment



                      • Let those who are in favour with their stars
                        Of public honour and proud titles boast,
                        Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars
                        Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most.
                        Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread
                        But as the marigold at the sun's eye,
                        And in themselves their pride lies buried,
                        For at a frown they in their glory die.
                        The painful warrior famoused for fight,
                        After a thousand victories once foiled,
                        Is from the book of honour razed quite,
                        And all the rest forgot for which he toiled:
                        Then happy I, that love and am beloved,
                        Where I may not remove nor be removed.




                        "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





                        Comment




                        • The old gate clicks, and down the walk,
                          Between clove-pink and hollyhock,
                          Still young of face though gray of lock,
                          Among her garden's flowers she goes
                          At evening's close,
                          Deep in her hair a yellow rose.

                          The old house shows one gable-peak
                          Above its trees; and sage and leek
                          Blend with the rose their scents: the creek,
                          Leaf-hidden, past the garden flows,
                          That on it snows
                          Pale petals of the yellow rose.

                          The crickets pipe in dewy damps;
                          And everywhere the fireflies' lamps
                          Flame like the lights of Faery camps;
                          While, overhead, the soft sky shows
                          One star that glows,
                          As, in gray hair, a yellow rose.

                          There is one spot she seeks for, where
                          The roses make a fragrant lair,
                          A spot where once he kissed her hair,
                          And told his love, as each one knows,
                          Each flower that blows,
                          And pledged it with a yellow rose.

                          The years have turned her dark hair gray
                          Since that glad day: and still, they say,
                          She keeps the tryst as on that day;
                          And through the garden softly goes,
                          At evening's close,
                          Wearing for him that yellow rose.


                          "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





                          Comment



                          • "My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
                            At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
                            Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
                            And have no cunning with any soft thing
                            Except all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:
                            The refugee uncertain at the door
                            You make at home; deftly you steady
                            The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.
                            Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers’ terror,
                            Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime
                            Yet leaping before apopleptic streetcars
                            Misfit in any space. And never on time.
                            A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only
                            With words and people and love you move at ease;
                            In traffic of wit expertly maneuver
                            And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.
                            Forgetting your coffee spreading on our flannel,
                            Your lipstick grinning on our coat,
                            So gaily in love’s unbreakable heaven
                            Our souls on glory of spilt bourbon float.
                            Be with me, darling, early and late. Smash glasses
                            I will study wry music for your sake.
                            For should your hands drop white and empty
                            All the toys of the world would break."


                            "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





                            Comment


                            • tonight we sacrifice reason
                              on the altar of love

                              let us conspire in treason,
                              you take my soulmask,
                              i take your uniform
                              off

                              come to the beach
                              when the night is black.

                              stars will be watching
                              and we will watch them
                              back
                              -ZORKA


                              so i was playing this game 'reaper' and this was from a letter to imperialist soldier from his girl friend.

                              Comment



                              • "Farewell, dear friend, and when we meet,
                                In desert waste or crowded street,
                                Perhaps before this week shall fleet,
                                Perhaps to-morrow.
                                I trust to find YOUR heart the seat
                                Of wasting sorrow."



                                "To burn always with this hard gemlike flame, to maintain this ecstasy, is success in life."





                                Comment

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