Three babies named Nat, Pat, and Tat
T'was fun in the breeding
But hell in the feeding
When she found there was no tit for Tat

Das menos

Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble; incline thine ear unto me: in the day when I call answer me speedily.

For my days are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burned as an hearth.

My heart is smitten, and withered like grass; so that I forget to eat my bread.

By reason of the voice of my groaning my bones cleave to my skin.

( Read more... )

These are the letters which Endymion wrote
   To one he loved in secret, and apart.
   And now the brawlers of the auction mart
Bargain and bid for each poor blotted note,
Ay! for each separate pulse of passion quote
   The merchant’s price. I think they love not art
   Who break the crystal of a poet’s heart
That small and sickly eyes may glare and ( Read more... )

Grant me chastity and self-control, but not yet.

Saint Augustine, Confessions

Alike for those who for To-day prepare,
And those that after some To-morrow stare,
A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries
“Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There.”

Beyond the earth,
beyond the farthest skies
I try to find Heaven and Hell.
Then I hear a solemn voice that says:
"Heaven and hell are inside.”

We are no other than a moving row
Of ( Read more... )

Little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
I won't blame you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
I won't blame you,
instead
I will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
( Read more... )

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.

Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
How would thy shadow's form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to unseeing eyes thy ( Read more... )

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least ( Read more... )

Very early in my life it was too late

Marguerite Duras - The Lover