The best Author's Poems


Posted by: Silvana Stremiz
in Poems (Author's Poems)
You're my bondage and my freedom,
my flesh burning like a naked summer night,
you're my country.
Hazel eyes marbled green,
you're awesome, beautiful, and brave,
you're my desire always just out of reach.
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    in Poems (Author's Poems)
    I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
    or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
    I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
    in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
    I love you as the plant that never blooms
    but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
    thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
    risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
    I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
    I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
    so I love you because I know no other way
    than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
    so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
    so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
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      in Poems (Author's Poems)
      If I die, survive me with such a pure force
      you make the pallor and the coldness rage;
      flash your indelible eyes from south to south,
      from sun to sun, till your mouth sings like a guitar.
      I don't want your laugh or your footsteps to waver;
      I don't want my legacy of happiness to die;
      don't call to my breast: I'm not there.
      Live in my absence as in a house.
      Absence is such a large house
      that you'll walk through the walls,
      hang pictures in sheer air.
      Absence is such a transparent house
      that even being dead I will see you there,
      and if you suffer, Love, I'll die a second time.
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        Posted by: Save a Quote Staff
        in Poems (Author's Poems)
        I am a poet, a unanimous
        cry, am
        a cleat of dreams
        a fruit
        of innumerable conflicting grafts
        ripened in the hothouse
        But the same earth bears
        your people
        as carries me
        Italy
        In this, the uniform
        of your soldier, I rest
        as if
        it were the cradle
        of my father
        Cease murdering the dead.
        If you hope not to perish, if you
        Want sound of them again,
        Stop crying out, cease
        The crying out of it.
        They have a barely heard whispering,
        No more than the increase of grass,
        Happy where no man passes.
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          Posted by: circe
          in Poems (Author's Poems)
          I'm a tranquillizer,
          I act at home,
          I work in the office,
          I face exams,
          I show up for the hearing,
          I glue together carefully broken cups -
          you only have to take me,
          make me melt under your tongue,
          you only have to swallow me
          with a sip of water.
          I know how to treat unhappiness,
          how to face bad news,
          reduce justice,
          risk the absence of God,
          choosing a nice little mourning hat.
          What are you waiting for -
          trust in chemical pity.
          You're still a young man (woman),
          you should sort yourself out somehow.
          Who said life should be lived with courage?
          Give me your abyss -
          I'll stuff it with sleep.
          You'll be grateful for your standing fall.
          Sell me your soul.
          There won't be another buyer.
          There isn't another devil anymore.
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            Posted by: Francesco Pierri
            in Poems (Author's Poems)
            No man is an island,
            Entire of itself.
            Each is a piece of the continent,
            A part of the main.
            If a clod be washed away by the sea,
            Europe is the less.
            As well as if a promontory were.
            As well as if a manor of thine own
            Or of thine friend's were.
            Each man's death diminishes me,
            For I am involved in mankind.
            Therefore, send not to know
            For whom the bell tolls,
            It tolls for thee.
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              Posted by: Silvana Stremiz
              in Poems (Author's Poems)
              Mine - by the Right of the White Election!
              Mine - by the Royal Seal!
              Mine - by the Sign in the Scarlet prison -
              Bars - cannot conceal!
              Mine - here - in Vision - and in Veto!
              Mine - by the Grave's Repeal -
              Titled - Confirmed -
              Delirious Charter!
              Mine - while Ages steal!
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                in Poems (Author's Poems)
                I thought that my voyage had come to its end
                at the last limit of my power,---that the path before me was closed,
                that provisions were exhausted
                and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.
                But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
                And when old words die out on the tongue,
                new melodies break forth from the heart;
                and where the old tracks are lost,
                new country is revealed with its wonders.
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                  Posted by: Paolo P
                  in Poems (Author's Poems)
                  With usura hath no man a house of good stone
                  each block cut smooth and well fitting
                  that design might cover their face,
                  with usura
                  hath no man a painted paradise on his church wall
                  harpes et luz
                  or where virgin receiveth message
                  and halo projects from incision,
                  with usura
                  seeth no man Gonzaga his heirs and his concubines
                  no picture is made to endure nor to live with
                  but it is made to sell and sell quickly
                  with usura, sin against nature,
                  is thy bread ever more of stale rags
                  is thy bread dry as paper,
                  with no mountain wheat, no strong flour
                  with usura the line grows thick
                  with usura is no clear demarcation
                  and no man can find site for his dwelling.
                  Stonecutter is kept from his tone
                  weaver is kept from his loom
                  WITH USURA
                  wool comes not to market
                  sheep bringeth no gain with usura
                  Usura is a murrain, usura
                  blunteth the needle in the maid's hand
                  and stoppeth the spinner's cunning. Pietro Lombardo
                  came not by usura
                  Duccio came not by usura
                  nor Pier della Francesca; Zuan Bellin' not by usura
                  nor was 'La Calunnia' painted.
                  Came not by usura Angelico; came not Ambrogio Praedis,
                  Came no church of cut stone signed: Adamo me fecit.
                  Not by usura St. Trophime
                  Not by usura Saint Hilaire,
                  Usura rusteth the chisel
                  It rusteth the craft and the craftsman
                  It gnaweth the thread in the loom
                  None learneth to weave gold in her pattern;
                  Azure hath a canker by usura; cramoisi is unbroidered
                  Emerald findeth no Memling
                  Usura slayeth the child in the womb
                  It stayeth the young man's courting
                  It hath brought palsey to bed, lyeth
                  between the young bride and her bridegroom
                  CONTRA NATURAM
                  They have brought whores for Eleusis
                  Corpses are set to banquet
                  at behest of usura.
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                    Posted by: Giulio Pintus
                    in Poems (Author's Poems)
                    Through the long years
                    I sought peace,
                    I found ecstasy, I found anguish,
                    I found madness,
                    I found loneliness,
                    I found the solitary pain
                    that gnaws the heart,
                    But peace I did not find.
                    Now, old and near my end,
                    I have known you,
                    And, knowing you,
                    I have found both ecstasy and peace,
                    I know rest,
                    After so many lonely years.
                    I know what life and love may be.
                    Now, if I sleep,
                    I shall sleep fulfille.
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