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Da Li Volite..

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Na telefonu sam, pa nemam predstavu da li je fotografija prevelika...nadam se da nije.

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Zdravo, @sedijedan. ☺️❤️🍪

21 hours ago, Klara said:

Zdravo, @sedijedan. ☺️❤️🍪

👍 Odličan izbor ☺️

22 hours ago, Klara said:

Na telefonu sam, pa nemam predstavu da li je fotografija prevelika...nadam se da nije.

Nije, taman je.

  • 1 month later...

Ti mene zoves ruza

kaze Ruza

ali kad bi znao

moje pravo ime

uvenula bih

odmah.

Ne treba nikad gubiti iz vida paniku koja obuzima macku

kada se suoci sa svojim likom u ogledalu.

Da ne postoji ljudski lik u ogledalu, u uglacanoj metalnoj ploci ili vodi,

istorija covecanstva bi sasvim drugacije izgledala.

^

Pokušala sam da saznam autora... :S

Screenshot-20260414-010631.jpg

Just now, Klara said:

^

Pokušala sam da saznam autora... :S

D pardon

Pol Klodel - Ruza

Zivojin Pavlovic - Flogiston

Klodela je valjda navodio kao uzora jedno vreme popularni mladi Sikimić.

Meni je super njegova zbirčica, mada su je malo izlizali po tviteru.

17761371886053814168313676387691.jpg

What she wanted

was my bones. As I gave them

to her one at a time, she put them

in a bag from Saks.

As long as I didn't hesitate

she collected scapula and

vertebrae with a smile.

If I grew reluctant, she pouted.

Then I would come across

with rib cage or pelvis.

Eventually I lay in a puddle

at her feet, only the boneless

penis waving like an anemone.

"Look at yourself," she said.

“You're disgusting."

**************************

Do you have any advice for those of us just starting out?

Give up sitting dutifully at your desk. Leave

your house or apartment. Go out into the world.

 

It's all right to carry a notebook but a cheap

one is best, with pages the color of weak tea

and on the front a kitten or a space ship.

 

Avoid any enclosed space where more than

three people are wearing turtlenecks. Beware

any snow-covered chalet with deer tracks

across the muffled tennis courts.

 

Not surprisingly, libraries are a good place to write.

And the perfect place in a library is near an aisle

where a child a year or two old is playing as his

mother browses the ranks of the dead.

 

Often he will pull books from the bottom shelf.

The title, the author's name, the brooding photo

on the flap mean nothing. Red book on black, gray

book on brown, he builds a tower. And the higher

it gets, the wider he grins.

 

You who asked for advice, listen: When the tower

falls, be like that child. Laugh so loud everybody

in the world frowns and says: "Shhhh."

 

Then start again.

Ron Koertge

Daylight saving

Time to watch the geese return, while snow
retreats to the corners of my backyard.
Time to clean because I’m sick of keeping things
and making them important. All winter
I wanted something to change me.
I wanted to turn into a gazelle and leap
out of the drought of my body.
Small and lost hour, you give everything
a new reason. Save me anyway.

Grace Q. Song

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

No image preview

W. H. Auden

Explore poems by W. H. Auden in our poetry archive.

On Meditating, Sort Of

Meditation, so I’ve heard, is best accomplished
if you entertain a certain strict posture.
Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree.
So why should I think I could ever be successful?

Some days I fall asleep, or land in that
even better place — half-asleep — where the world,
spring, summer, autumn, winter —
flies through my mind in its
hardy ascent and its uncompromising descent.

So I just lie like that, while distance and time
reveal their true attitudes: they never
heard of me, and never will, or ever need to.

Of course I wake up finally
thinking, how wonderful to be who I am,
made out of earth and water,
my own thoughts, my own fingerprints —
all that glorious, temporary stuff.

Mary Oliver

  • 2 weeks later...

imgonline-com-ua-dexif-GC5n-Sh-Deb-G7g.j

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