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dark poetry

l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
certains des maux que vous avez traités
pensées par ma tête
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
c'était l'automne de l'année
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
une fois ce gazon mou
robuste, humble-abeille de somnoler
nuit mystérieuse
le corps peut confiner
je sais ce que vous allez dire
j'au-dessus-avais préparé l'événement

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

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  • Continuing Studies fall registration open - Stanford Report
  • Why is America ambivalent about Whitman? - Chadron Record
  • Repertoire of Urdu poetry on display - Saudi Gazette
  • New play explores what search reveals about us - Boston Globe
  • It's Happening - Parkdale-Liberty Village - Inside Toronto
  • 'Xanadu' Special Edition: Let the Good Times Roll - Washington Post
  • Poetry's promoter - Indianapolis Star
  • In second year, White Pine Festival grows significantly - Stillwater Courier
 

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