Pain In Chest Weh I Laugh

November

March is spring,
the fresh air of morning
March is the rain on the nose,
a smile and a new hope
March Almost blue, smoke and wind socks
read
March is the way,
heady scents of leaves and old,
I look in the mirror,
March pats her hair uncombed and bond

a tear down the wrinkles,
adage fingers on the floor, basically I'm just a
November
yet there is no life for me,
November.

Letter Of Confirmation As Volunteer

And they call Spleen

I pulled up the net from Lethe
and found entangled
Cola cans and wet dreams, so I took the good cider

inhaling through the nostrils dreams and lies. I saw

turnip head of the Universe,
libraries for breakfast,
teachers, servants, and loves people,
really cried, but only for
dream over a cup of hot tea,
spleen and calls ...

I hate hot tea,
especially in summer, sipping
as if it were winter,
who wants snow in summer:
who only wants to love forever,

But I suffer and cry I feel, I cry inside
sheets and bread,
of sadness that blows from the outside, from
holes, holes, lumps,
drafts of wind that cut the heart, spleen
and calls ...

I hate colds,
especially in summer,
blowing her nose as if you had to do,
who wants to get dirty handkerchief of his sins
only those with black mucus,
mitral Assens (zi) or

I laugh and think I slam my fists, knuckles
purple of fever and salt,
violence swirling or die,
love, places, wood
small air pockets that sew the atria,
spleen and call it ...

I hate heights, especially when I jump
,
lost in the air, I will not fly!
who wants my blood on his hands:
only the walls, diamonds that have no words.

I tremble and gnash their teeth for hours
I'm afraid of the cold, the eyes, the color of the sea, or
slew of innocence that you care about,
tomorrow, we few, wet and sick, empty of rage that split
patios,
spleen and call it ...

I hate the cold, especially in winter
,
s'avesse clutching his chest as if to love, who wants
my eyes looking at the sea:
's disease, a madman who must be silent ... And you call

spleen!

Everyone wants to just talk,
say that everyone wants to say,
goes well, and both come
children
teach you a good game, we'll call
spleen.

Why Does Red Meat Upset My Stomach

Ithaca


When you set out for Ithaca
hope your road is long,
full of adventure and discovery.
I Lestrigoni and the Cyclops, the angry Poseidon do not worry,
not be 'this kind of meetings
if your thoughts remain lofty, and a feeling
stirs your spirit and your body.
Cyclops, Lestrigoni, not sure, it 'Neptune incurring the wrath
if you do not carry them within
soul if you do not set them up.
Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when in
ports
- finally and what a joy -
you touch the ground for the first time:
lingers at Phoenician trading stations and buy
pearl and coral, amber and ebony
all fine merchandise, including perfumes
piercing of any kind;
more 'heady fragrance as you can,
goes to many cities' Egyptian
learn a quantity' of the learned things.

But do you think of Ithaca
-Arriving there is the constant thought.
But do not hurry the journey;
Better if it lasts long, for years, and that old
reach the island, you, full of treasures

gained on the way, not expecting Ithaca to riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage
without her you would never put
the street: what else do you expect?

And if you find her poor, Ithaca you will have 'disappointed.
Done wise now, with so much experience on
already 'you have understood what' Ithaca that mean.

[Constantine Cavafy]

How Golden Engraved Desert Eagle

The Pumpkin King is on vacation in Tahiti

Nicotine out of sight,
exits and gingerbread,
the largest art exhibition, a pig picture

- New Democracy - it says

Seri intellectuals today, the new cool hipster
Millennium
politically dressed in black
fluent in politics, Marx
acute high fashion.

Serioso reserve mouthfuls of long, languid
greetings and hair intellectuals,
nothing for the king of pop corn, pumpkins, glasses trained

only cuts and gestures of young walking-Sartre.

Man-artist-reader-quadrophoenia
so intolerant praised its diversity,
while watching a funny picture-
tree that symbolizes a world elite?

The Pumpkin King is finally where he wants
in the leadership of the minds,
in the living room of those who think good thinking, but
recognizes only the red wine.

thick glasses blacks,
thick black jacket, thick curly
blacks,
prepares the reader's voice
- Waiting for the Revolution-
he says ...

Meanwhile, I stretch out my legs on the chair in front of the

The Pumpkin King is a little scared,
and from red to white rose
and roasted corn.

The player moves his hands, sing lullabies
of beef balls, I do not understand
these poems, because the law on his behalf

the words of another
writing in the world.

Intellectuals are well seated,
all black clothes, all over the top

stands some unfaithful greyish
the others are all behind the rows of chairs,
is just perfect for a concert.

The king has a green jacket and a yellow shirt, sitting
late, drinking and sweating, looking puzzled
the painter-timer
fluttering and pulls the canvas with his brush,
is a concept with many defects.

Hopefully in the end, confetti donate aluminum
or pills of wisdom, while the reader
rhyme convinced
and now the king is angry:

- Fuck the player, I say something

Trilla:
- Hello? No, the Pumpkin King is on vacation in Tahiti
and can not respond to phone-
What was I saying? Ah yes.
Fuck the player,
eminent colleagues.

Listerine Pocket Packs Commercial

A Musical Farewell - II Movement

It will be the drums of
history to beat the men desire to prance in the armies

that a steady hand,
write sheet music, pictures and spreadsheets, as Thor thunders

thundering hammers beating on earth,
Midgard
that falls to us more than what one expects
seorpente the World.
While hordes of Goths shadows
s'allinenano below the last cathedral
while the sky is tinged with blood
and returns to what Moses laid,
returns one with the sea, the ocean-sky
whispering
a fatal secret:
- Just one of your lightning -
and music right from wrong,
sparks ozone Takeaway.

Numero De Serie Nero 3.1.0.25

There are rules and Discopub

Start rustling,
to see the world, we
Fuck tiny trifles, and perhaps not even exist

and eventually head-shock-light-blue eyes goodbye
Fuck if the sun is red or green
and if anything falls into nothing, nothing
waterfalls, streams
nothing
primary colors and a lounge bar, if Mars is
Fuck a disco,
or if the sea is an atom wet
there are no rules for roofs and thoughts,
doors to slam out of the house, there are no rules
,
Fuck.

Motorcycle Drivers Backrest

Fallen Angels

The angels fell from heaven

I saw it on a state highway 66,
churches had ketchup

off with a pick up a carton of Bud

On a mountain to climb, I saw an angel

barricaded in backgammon
I offered him of 'grass
and he wrote me a poem

Eventually I scontrai with the wings of a
- hey fuck -
and he blurted out, eyes unmade belched
then added
- Already we are here because of you ,
at least let us keep the memory of fly-
and scratching his ass
disappeared into the street.

Wma Plugin Modul For Nero 7 Ultra Edition

A Musical Farewell


I need my pain I need to slap my fist at God and I need him
hell and the flames
the world capitulated as the rock crumbles under
invaders of Titans Cronus
stirred up from the throne
young son of a traitor and tyrant

I need silence when all music was born
I need
hell and the flames and the pain when all the happiness conceived of the earth from her womb

fertilized by the tears of sad Odin
I need the crows and the war and revolution, the guillotine

long for the crown of the Emperor
with it since I put the chains on my wrists
of history and the keys of St. Peter
me as they melt immanent

Ephesus I need to mold my wings
my pen

I need my sword Dante and Beethoven
kneel down to ask them to stand
I want my two best
three ships, I will first
and my car next to the edge of a broken life

I need to know that I will have over the next mile bay

to dictate this symphony
my god bearded, fatherly
when I will give him a look of eyes and all this
playing a musical
say goodbye

Woman Sitting On Stomach Men

Salmon in The Descent

Salmon
down to all the poets of the Invisible City,
salmon down
for igniting matches Russian vagabonds,

salmon down to the railings of a packed bars,
salmon
down for wrinkle-drinking gin from a lame

salmon down the slope because it is for those who are not salmon.
Now!

Have I Cleaned My Emu Boot Wrong

Stewart Papier

is advanced
Mrs. scarlet eyes, smile-
dentures guncotton
hair steamed dumplings
cotonati
dress with great shoulders,
paiette as the comet,
Jesus would find in a mall.

She is the mother of all the poets of his youth
withered,
hoary white hair, mothballs
brain,
acrid smell of sterility,
too old to show her butt.

I sat behind the closet, but
without clothes,
the nice tie, nice shirt, hair
exhausted from the night before,
eyes rusty from the bottle before,
too young to sit,

One interested spectator
ask me - Excuse me, where's the toilet? -
confused chuckle and say, Benzedrine
nougat!
He looked at me stunned, I would paint

his intestines itch
of disorder and chaos, but then just
:
- On the right, straight-
The poets of cardboard
stewart gets angry with those who do not want to go to the bathroom.

Japanese Men And Black Women

City of Poets of the outstanding novel online RSCenciarelli

"It was a normal day, a nearly equal to all others that Alex had spent during the past year, and probably would have continued in this its ordinariness. But it was in this climate of indistinguishable similarity that Alex began to write his novel, the cause and effect of everything that would happen in the coming years, and the world around him. "

This above is an excerpt from the book online City unresolved, Roberto Cenci (which I always do), that will begin to be published in installments on blog:

http://cittairrisolte.blogspot.com/

The first post will be Monday, October 27, 2008, although the blog is already open, open, complete with a preface to the novel. You will find now the link at the bottom right of the blog, under Interesting SOMETHING ONLINE.

What do we mean?
's the story of six characters: a terrorist, a student, a singer, a famous writer, a politician of absolute importance, a university janitor, which crossed their lives, seemingly different, in a rainy day like so many there are in the world. Discover for himself that everyone's life is crucial to the fate of the other and each is a city unresolved. Why

a novel online?
because the possibility of making it available to all at no cost is an attractive bet for an emerging writer who wants to create a case, rather than pocketing the royalties (although it is not that some euro in your pocket to hurt anyone) . Later I will also give a paper on the novel, if there is a following online, in hopes that what he says Coelho is also valid for others, namely: - publishing books online so that people read them, but then he Why buy a stove to keep track of the pc-screen

How will it work? Every Monday released
a new chapter of the novel, while supplies last. Every Friday we will be heading Stan Laurel's suggestions that will describe the references of the novel, but also books, songs, movies and whatever else is necessary to understand the inspiration, so as to enable the reader to penetrate the atmosphere at him most.
The company is difficult, but at the moment is a bet that has to go. City

Why unresolved?
I'll use another excerpt of the novel:
"[...] each of us is a city unresolved and do not know, until he meets another and another and understands the need to seek other cities, towns unresolved in outstanding city in search of the city resolved that all collected and dissolved. "

I hope you will be many to follow my adventure, as you have been following this blog until now.
to you and the City outstanding as always a good On The Road Is The Only Road to all.

Good reading.

http://cittairrisolte.blogspot.com/

[The Rob's]

Taxi Fare From Manhattan To Woodbury Outlet

you through his eyes?

Today we are talking about ... looks

Never happened to watch a person to know everything, understand everything, to understand the nuances of the iris pearly, combined with a familiar feeling, a feeling not shared, hidden, but perfectly understood the look and guess?
When there is a special bond with the other person this usually happens, whatever the type of bond. Understand each other's eyes and talk in a more straightforward and certain words.
After all the words we have invented, but his eyes were already.
be because the eyes alone said too much? We wanted to censor your eyes?

fell when the last star,

the blind old man took a stick,

direct the dunes,

to the sound of dust in the wind,

cities destroyed by the words, the old man reached

silence ,

where the light was a cool song,

and the desert littered with moons,

in the warmth of a day amaranth,

stirred the old stick,

closed his eyes to the star in the mud,

and suddenly began to look at.

The poem is titled "The Last Man on Earth." There is a star in the mud for any man who is blind?

Remove Dry Broken Cork

Billy Eliot - I'm looking through you

Because sometimes our eyes are different, and we look through and it simply is our day to live and beat with sticks on the world of music.

I'M LOOKING THROUGH YOU

Diy Starter Mini Bike

---->>>

I'm looking through you,
where did you go?
I thought I knew you,
what did I know?
You don't look different,
but you have changed
I'm looking through you,
you're not the same
Your lips are moving,
I cannot hear
Your voice is soothing,
but the words aren't clear
You don't sound different,
I've learned the game
I'm looking through you,
you're not the same
Why, tell me why,
did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit
of disappearing overnight
You're thinking of me,
the same old way
You were above me,
but not today
The only difference is you're down there
I'm looking through you,
and you're nowhereWhy,
tell me why,
did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit
of disappearing overnight
I'm looking through you,
where did you go
I thought I knew you,
what did I know
You don't look different,
but you have changed
I'm looking through you,
you're not the same
Yeah
Oh baby I'm changed
Ah I'm looking through you
Yeah
I'm looking through you

[Lennon/McCartney]
PS: la versione cantata da The Wallflowers (ascolta sopra) a me piace di più però!

How To Kill Yourself Temazepam

Jukebox oxygen

La poesia is not an expression ...
is the time at night , sleep in the bed,
thought of what really think,
make private world public,
and this is that the poet does.

[Allen Ginsberg]

Relaxing Masterbation For Gir;s

Glimpses Summer in Winter

breakwater on the sea, as we
,
spectators broken.


This is my poem contributing to the national premium sms organized by the foundation of the known literary prize and Laurentum sponsorizzat O by Vodafone. If you have caused the inner wave that has moved me in writing, to rate them 3404399444, sending an SMS with the text VOTO1801.