We read the pagan sacred books with profit and delight. With myth and fable we are ever charmed, and find a pleasure in the endless repetition of the beautiful, poetic, and absurd. We find, in all the...
Approaching the Start of Civil ExamsPerhaps I was once a young Chinese scholarapproaching the start of civil exams,my mind grown weary and sad from seclusionwith books on syntax and poetic style.All t...
(a.) Alt. of Poetical
Early in her career, Muse engaged her skills for technical purposes, such as document translation and schematic visualizations for government entities. She continued to write and paint poetically, in...
I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another til I drop.
Painting is so poetic, while sculpture is more logical and scientific and makes you worry about gravity.
Oh, Scarlett, you are so young you wring my heart.
I wish my whispers are heard and requited as a storm... Because, the storm is that keeps me alive!
Mistress Creation keeps calling my name... i long for her, and she, for me... we will be reunited soon. In the interim, i bide my time dreaming of her, writing about her and stretching her across the...
Leave me alone,Do me a favor, abandon me,I want to think about,You me and the idea of forever.
If you were destined to be a poet, then you won't brainstorm for lines that rhymes. If you were destined to be a celebrity, then you shouldn't start searching for fans. If you are truly a god, then le...
As an artist, i live in fantasy and flirt with reality. I'm an emotional magician of sorts. I paint my feelings onto the abstract canvas of a waking dream. I suspend my concepts in the ether's of othe...
You wanted hearts and flowers. You have my heart - & here are the flowers.
Your personality should be described in poem not in paragraph.
Poetry is inspired by the elements of random thoughts, an overflow of gazing at the unseen.
Love is not love which alters it when alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no! It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wanderin...
Someone asked me when is my birthday?The poet inside me replied,"My birthday is on the last day of the year,It's 31st December my dear!
What is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
I will love you like the desert burns along the sun when they are together,and when you will be gone,just like every one else,I will cry for you like the snow that melts at the first hint of summer......
She was the sky full of surprises. Her dreams were blue and breathtaking as a bright day and her secrets were dark and poetic as a cold night. Either way, she was the most beautiful mess that one had...
Fracture lines etch the surface of the glass box as if a body fell from the sky and landed on it. He doesn't hear the impact, can't smell the blood.