My Heros

Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

-Edgar Allen Poe




For this next one, if you can't understand spanish, all I can say is I'm sorry and tough luck.

Vida

Después de todo, todo ha sido nada
A pesar de que un dìa lo fue todo.
Después de nada, o después de todo
Supe que todo no era màs que nada.

Grito, "Todo!", y el eco dice "Nada!"
Grito "Nada!", y el eco dice "Todo!"
Ahora se que la nada lo era todo
Y todo era ceniza de la nada.

No queda nada de lo que fue nada.
(Era ilusiòn lo que creìa todo
y que, en definitiva, era la nada.)

Qué màs da que la nada fuera nada
Si màs nada serà, después de todo,
Después de tanto todo para nada

-José Hierro

Just for the record, I think spanish have some amazing poets and to be able to read them in original language rocks.Source URL: http://lifestyleartsblogs.blogspot.com/search/label/Poetry
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Emo, ummmmm poetry???

Yep. This is what happens when you stick me and Ozie in a room, all alone, with only a rinky-dinky old computer to pass the time.....
Anyway, let's get on with this.

EZYOZIEFOOLSFORROCK

Tears like spears
Eating at my insides
Tearing out the pages
Of my long forgotten life

Kagaroos in the forest
And zebras in the jungle
Hippos on the moon
The cow ran out of milk

Jump jump and never stop
Fly away and lose your top
Eat coconuts on an island
Sink with the atomic bomb

Handprints dripping paint
That tainted your presence
What was supposed to be a saint
Instead brought a wrong essence

I know, you don't have to tell us. It's just beautiful.
We are so winning the noble prize for literature with this Oz.Source URL: http://lifestyleartsblogs.blogspot.com/search/label/Poetry
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