Bootstrap Framework 3.3.6

[Sunce]

Preko analize do sinteze.

(Svaka) individua strada (sama)

[Orlando the Lady]

Originally posted by Sunce

Nemojte citirati!

[Delete]

Janko Polić Kamov - Intermezzo


Polomite mi pero i sažgite hartiju;
Strahote će da rađaju i priča će biti užas; rodio se među Ljudima čovjek i u društvo je zabludjela duša;
Nema čovjeku mjesta među vama, o ljudi bezdušni.
Zalutao je let moj i prašume mi bijahu gnijezdo:
Gledam stanove vaše i uredbe vaše i tuđe su mi ko sakramenti;
Kitty je golubica i ona će vam pričati pohot orlova;
Pandža je duša moja i pojim se krvlju ideja.
Ja sam uskrsli Izrael, gdje Salamun pjeva pjesme;
Gdje sijevaju oči Salome i Judita slavi orgije;
Gdje Marija preko zakona rađa novoga Mesiju i raspetoga boga.
Hoće li doći ognjeno božanstvo i prosuti vatru na djela moja?
Hoće li more beživotno prekriti blud duše moje?
Hoće li tko zaroniti kroz more mrtveži i razotkriti mahnite nekad gradove?
Hoće li tko pisati studije vrhu mene i elegije vrhu zalutale duše?
Podignite lomaču i sažgite tijelo moje;
Dim će se izdići k nebesima, gdje kruže orlovi;
Nema granice u bezmjerju njihovom i slobodan je njihov let.
Apsurd postaje pjesma moja i nema ludnice za mene;
Ne čitajte djela moja i sažgite hartiju;
Polomite mi pero - i skinite oblačine sa nebišta -
Dajte mi sunce! - grozan je Osvaldov finale.

[Orlando the Lady]

Одакле пишем

Писање је свачија соба па изволите сести. Седам дана и седам ноћи пре овог који треба да поживимо намерила сам вам рећи одакле пишем. И три дана набраног чела и трећа ноћ прибраности чела је била када сам се решила да појасним одакле то да пишем.
Знала сам да су је прогнали. Поштовање које би јој којом згодом указивали било је поштовање због рода старинског. Довукла се назад и једино што би могло зачудити око била је чистина тог огртача. Није ме чудио ни јастук у левој руци ни мешкољење доње усне и притисак прстом који би чинила на њу- вековима је то радила. Вековима јој јуре сестре, а њих је осам и она девета, вековима им се по кафанама и трговима све исти људи бесе за врат и грцању речима из свога грла пљују њу, пљују једну од Муза. Моле реч, моле стих, све би их љубили, љубиле би их, и у грчу стезали за зглобове шака. А сестре Музе су ћутале и ћутале и то је од како се сећам, узроковало све неповерење. Па и сами знамо. .
Од мене је добила чашу воде, и сада и увек биће вода са извора на цени, чак сам јој допустила да види београдско одељење моје библиотеке. Неке корице је прелазила јагодицом, неке дланом, већ ево шест дана тако.
Па пишем одатле да кажем. Луда жена, слуђена, шта ли је. Можда ми украде књиге.

[zozefin st]

beautiful story ^

[elektron84]

Evo, da se slozim sa zozi

[Orlando the Lady]

Borislav Radović


Život vina

Po nedeljnom ručku, dok propadamo u san,
vlasišta mokrih od varenja i od žege,
otac bi ušao u vinograd i tu se
bavio do mraka, okružen čokotima;
redio bi lišće, razgledao grozdove,
pucad krupniju od bibera,
i mislio o novom vinu.

Danas pretačem vino iz njegove misli;
dižem ga, žuto, svetlucavo, prema oknu:
da kroza nj promakne prašnjavo sunce. I znam
čim žmirnu zimska okca i suknu lastari,
zamutiće se ono, živo.
Kao da se nije ni prekidala veza
među peteljkom i kolencem,
biće opet u dosluhu ovoga leta
vino u podrumu, u plesnivim bocama,
i Sunčev korak gluhotom nebeskih kuća.

Vino, slično zvezdi, opisuje putanju
kojom bi se možda i otac otisnuo,
stojeći bez daha od kašlja, prazna oka
i tanak, kao u tuđoj košulji;
zadubljen, dalek i sopstvenoj misli.

[Simor]

Sapfo - Himna Afroditi

Šarotrona, besmrtna Afrodito,
vešta kćeri Divova, molim ti se,
na daj da od tuge i jada, gospo,
srce mi puca!

Nego dođi ako si kada i pre
izdaleka molitve moje čula,
ostavila očeve dvore, sela
na kola zlatna,

pa mi došla, – eterom vozili te
krasni vrapci, zaprega tvoja brza,
bili hitrim krilima, s neba crnoj
vukli te zemlji,

dok su stigli. Onda me ti, o blaga,
s osmejkom na besmrtnom licu pita
šta me opet muči, i zašto opet
prizivam tebe,

i šta želim najviše da mi ima
srce ludo. ''Koju to opet žudiš
da ti Pita na srce vine? Ko te,
rastuži, Sapfo?

Ako beži, brzo će da te traži;
odbija li poklone, daće ti ih;
ne ljubi li, moraće odmah da te
na silu ljubi.''

Dođi i sad! Iz ljutog jada spasi
dušu moju! Za čim mi srce čezne
daj mi da se ispuni! Ti mi sama
zaštita budi!

[Orlando the Lady]

[Tungi]

.............

"Butine su joj bile gole,a guste kovrdzave dlake
medju nogama,crne kao ugalj,bile su oroshene mlecnim
bisernim kapima...Teleni je,nalakcen,
gledao u nju i gnusao se,kao sto
se gnusamo kad vidimo kuhinjski
sto prekriven otpacima mesa,
ostacima hrane,mrljama od vina koje se
u izobilju sluzilo na gozbi.
Gledao ju je s prezirom,kao sto covek gleda
zenu koja ga je upravo zadovoljila,
ponizivsi pri tom i sebe i njega.


......

O,moje ljubavnice,
Kako vas samo mrzim!
Prekrijte svoja ruzna vimena
Odvratnim prnjama.

[Tungi]

Originally posted by Simor

Sapfo - Himna Afroditi

Šarotrona, besmrtna Afrodito,
vešta kćeri Divova, molim ti se,
na daj da od tuge i jada, gospo,
srce mi puca!

Nego dođi ako si kada i pre
izdaleka molitve moje čula,
ostavila očeve dvore, sela
na kola zlatna,

pa mi došla, – eterom vozili te
krasni vrapci, zaprega tvoja brza,
bili hitrim krilima, s neba crnoj
vukli te zemlji,

dok su stigli. Onda me ti, o blaga,
s osmejkom na besmrtnom licu pita
šta me opet muči, i zašto opet
prizivam tebe,

i šta želim najviše da mi ima
srce ludo. ''Koju to opet žudiš
da ti Pita na srce vine? Ko te,
rastuži, Sapfo?

Ako beži, brzo će da te traži;
odbija li poklone, daće ti ih;
ne ljubi li, moraće odmah da te
na silu ljubi.''

Dođi i sad! Iz ljutog jada spasi
dušu moju! Za čim mi srce čezne
daj mi da se ispuni! Ti mi sama
zaštita budi!

"Nikad nisam imala poverenje u zene.Vecna feministkinja me je izdala od samog pocetka u obliku moje majke.Feministkinje zasluzuju bich i harem.Oooh!"

Sappho

[Rewind]

Originally posted by Tungi

"Nikad nisam imala poverenje u zene.Vecna feministkinja me je izdala od samog pocetka u obliku moje majke.Feministkinje zasluzuju bich i harem.Oooh!"

Sappho

WTF??!

[Tungi]

Nisam ja to rekao,vec Sappho:)

[Rewind]

Koja Sappho? Pesnikinja sa Lezbosa to nije mogla reći.

[Tungi]

A moguce da ju je citirala Gabrielle Sidonie Colette ili je cak vishe to njena izjava,nisam siguran.

[Rewind]

Originally posted by Tungi

A moguce da ju je citirala Gabrielle Sidonie Colette ili je cak vishe to njena izjava,nisam siguran.

To već može!

[Orlando the Lady]

[Nesto je u igri]

Kakva paradigma
kakav down
sa suncem u ocima
u poljima razi
trcimo, trcimo
prema rubu noci
neko nas lovi
neko nas trazi.
I zovu nas
distorzirani glasovi
iz konzerve kraj puta
i oblak u jezeru
spokojno pluta
i odjednom
bez upozorenja
vidimo mrtve gliste u bari
i slusamo zvono sa obliznjeg tornja
sahranjuju dan jednog lovca u razi
sahranjuju sve njegove male stvari.

[bas bleu]

Originally posted by Tungi

"Nikad nisam imala poverenje u zene.Vecna feministkinja me je izdala od samog pocetka u obliku moje majke.Feministkinje zasluzuju bich i harem.Oooh!"

Sappho

a little learning is a dangerous thing.

britney spears

[Delete]

Branko Miljković - Kraj putovanja


O, sve što prođe većnost jedna biva.
Sen koja beše drvo, traje. Budi
Ispod svoga imena koje budi
Ruka sa cvetovima krv što sebe okova.
Završiće se putovanje, ostaće tiha brda,
Siva praznina vetar koji bludi,
Mesto koje nema mesta u želji al nudi
Zlo da nas spase i istinu otkriva.
To čemu se molite je Žalosni Slavuj.
Ljubav nikad nije završena.
Čega ima ljudskog u patnji? O, čuj
Dan odjekuje. Nepokretne zvezde stoje.
Prazne ruke prazno srce pusta sena
I nema mene al' ima ljubavi moje.

[bas bleu]

the literary world

’finally, after five months of my life during which I could write nothing that would satisfied me, and for which no power will compensate me…’

My dear Kafka,
When you've had five years of it, not five months,
Five years of an irresistible force meeting
an immoveable object right in your belly,
Then you'll know about depression.

philip larkin

[bas bleu]

stevie smith - not waving but drowning

nobody heard him, the dead man,
but still he lay moaning:
i was much further out than you thought
and not waving but drowning.

poor chap, he always loved larking
and now he's dead
it must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
they said.

oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(still the dead one lay moaning)
i was much too far out all my life
and not waving but drowning.

[Orlando the Lady]

The Longing (Nimah Nawwab)

Freedom.
How her spirit
Haunts,
Hooks,
Entices us all!

Freedom,
Will the time come
For my ideas to roam
Across this vast land’s deserts,
Through the caverns of the Empty Quarter?


For my voice to be sent forth,
Crying out in the stillness of a quiet people,
A voice among the voiceless?

For my thoughts, that hurl around
In a never-ending spiral,
To settle
Mature, grow and flourish
In a barren wasteland of shackled minds?

Will my spirit be set free—
To soar above the undulating palm fronds?
Will my essence and heart be unfettered,
Forever
Freed,
Of man-made Thou Shall Nots?

[bas bleu]

gooseberry season

which reminds me. he appeared
at noon, asking for water. he’d walked from town
after losing his job, leaving me a note for his wife and his brother
and locking his dog in the coal bunker.
we made him a bed

and he slept till monday.
a week went by and he hung up his coat.
then a month, and not a stroke of work, a word of thanks,
a farthing of rent or a sign of him leaving.
one evening he mentioned a recipe

for smooth, seedless gooseberry sorbet
but by then i was tired of him: taking pocket money
from my boy at cards, sucking up to my wife and on his last night
sizing up my daughter. he was smoking my pipe
as we stirred his supper.

where does the hand become the wrist?
where does the neck become the shoulder? the watershed
and then the weight, whatever turns up and tips us over that
razor’s edge
between something and nothing, between
one and the other.

i could have told him this
but didn't bother. we ran him a bath
and held him under, dried him off and dressed him
and loaded him into the back of the pick-up.
then we drove without headlights

to the county boundary,
dropped the tailgate, and after my boy
had been through his pockets we dragged him like a mattress
across the meadow and on the count of four
threw him over the border.

this is not general knowledge, except
in gooseberry season, which reminds me, and at the table
i have been known to raise an eyebrow, or scoop the sorbet
into five equal portions, for the hell of it.
i mention this for a good reason.

simon armitage

[Simor]

''

[smaug]

Sisli smo s uma u sjajan dan,
Providan, dubok, - nama, draga, znan;
I svetkovasmo ocepljenje to
Od muka, sumnje, vremena i sto
Rana sto krvave ih vredjao je svet:
Ljubavi nase plav i nezan cvet.

I opet sila zgrnulo se sveta
U bolnički nam mirisavi vrt;
Posmatra gde se dvoje dragih šeta,
Srećno, i hvale onaj život krt
Što ostavismo. Daleko od njih
Sad smo, a oni žale mir naš tih.

Oni baš ništa nisu znali šta
Dovede tu nas. - U cveću smo išli,
Slaveći strasno osećanja ta,
Zbog kojih lepo sa uma smo sišli.
U novom svetu dobro nam je sad,
A svet o njemu dobro i ne sluti;

Sumnja u ljubav - najteži nam jad -
Mino i čase blažene ne muti.
Iz prošlih dana ljubav i znak njen
- Spojenost srca - ostala nam još
Naš život ovde svetao je tren,
Srdačan, krotak. Onaj život loš

U kome znanci, rodbina ostaju,
Nevinost našeg ne poznaje sveta;
Životno vino, srž nedostaju
Njima, a glava njihova im smeta.
A naših srca jedan isti zvuk
Beleži draži i vremena huk.

Jer mi smo davno, verna draga, - je li? -
Iskidali konce što nas vežu
Za prostor, vreme, tonove i boje,
- Lance života što zveče i stežu;
Jer mi smo možda, sami tako hteli
Rad ljubavi nam i rad sreće svoje.

I gledaju nas zato što idemo
U košuljama belim parkom ovim,
Gde bolnički se miris širi jak;
Ne znaju draži sa životom novim,
Ljubavi naše neumrle znak.
... Gle! očima im trepti rosa nemo...

[pthalo]

http://pthalo.dreamwidth.org/675452.html?style=light

sest jezika u jednoj poemi

[AngraMaina]

@pthalo: prelepo!!!

[Ulix]

what can we do?
(Charles Bukowski)

at their best, there is gentleness in Humanity.
some understanding and, at times, acts of
courage
but all in all it is a mass, a glob that doesn't
have too much.
it is like a large animal deep in sleep and
almost nothing can awaken it.
when activated it's best at brutality,
selfishness, unjust judgments, murder.
what can we do with it, this Humanity?
nothing.
avoid the thing as much as possible.
treat it as you would anything poisonous, vicious
and mindless.
but be careful. it has enacted laws to protect
itself from you.
it can kill you without cause.
and to escape it you must be subtle.
few escape.
it's up to you to figure a plan.
I have met nobody who has escaped.
I have met some of the great and
famous but they have not escaped
for they are only great and famous within
Humanity.
I have not escaped
but I have not failed in trying again and
again.
before my death I hope to obtain my
life.

[pro_svetitelj]

Daddy
by: Sylvia Plath

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time--
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You--

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two--
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through

mocna ova silvija uh

[Tungi]

Meni se vise svidja ona u izvodjenju Bette Davis u filmu What ever happened to baby Jane?

"I've written a letter to Daddy His address is Heaven above I've written "Dear Daddy, we miss you And wish you were with us to love" Instead of a stamp I put kisses The postman says that's best to do I've written a letter to Daddy Saying "I love you" Now when I'm very good, and do as I am told I'm Mama's little angel and Papa says I'm good as gold Now when I'm very bad and answer back and sass Then I'm Mama's little devil, and Papa says I've got the brass Now I wish that you would tell me Cos I'm much too young to know...