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mOtLeY

Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Wednesday, January 9, 2008. I do not love you. I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,. Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,. In secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms. But carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;. Lives darkly in my body. Translated by Stephen Tapscott).

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mOtLeY | poyem.blogspot.com Reviews

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Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Wednesday, January 9, 2008. I do not love you. I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,. Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,. In secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms. But carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;. Lives darkly in my body. Translated by Stephen Tapscott).

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1 skip to main

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3 motley

4 pablo neruda

5 sonnet xvii

6 sheer genius

7 posted by igirit

8 4 comments

9 anonymous

10 7 comments

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skip to main,skip to sidebar,motley,pablo neruda,sonnet xvii,sheer genius,posted by igirit,4 comments,anonymous,7 comments,funeral blues,w h auden,2 comments,no comments,application for leave,need to unwind,pack my suitcase,my mind rebels,the body fails

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mOtLeY | poyem.blogspot.com Reviews

https://poyem.blogspot.com

Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Wednesday, January 9, 2008. I do not love you. I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,. Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,. In secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms. But carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;. Lives darkly in my body. Translated by Stephen Tapscott).

INTERNAL PAGES

poyem.blogspot.com

1

mOtLeY: January 2008

http://www.poyem.blogspot.com/2008_01_01_archive.html

Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Wednesday, January 9, 2008. I do not love you. I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,. Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,. In secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms. But carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;. Lives darkly in my body. Translated by Stephen Tapscott).

2

mOtLeY: August 2007

http://www.poyem.blogspot.com/2007_08_01_archive.html

Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Tuesday, August 7, 2007. Do not stand at my grave and weep. Do not stand at my grave and weep,. I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow,. I am the diamond's glint on snow,. I am the sunlight on ripening grain,. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush,. I am the swift uplifting rush. Of circled birds in flight,. I am the stars that shine at night.

3

mOtLeY: Funeral Blues

http://www.poyem.blogspot.com/2007/05/funeral-blues.html

Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Wednesday, May 30, 2007. 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 crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,. Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

4

mOtLeY: Do not stand at my grave and weep

http://www.poyem.blogspot.com/2007/08/do-not-stand-at-my-grave-and-weep.html

Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Tuesday, August 7, 2007. Do not stand at my grave and weep. Do not stand at my grave and weep,. I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow,. I am the diamond's glint on snow,. I am the sunlight on ripening grain,. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush,. I am the swift uplifting rush. Of circled birds in flight,. I am the stars that shine at night.

5

mOtLeY: Application For Leave

http://www.poyem.blogspot.com/2007/05/application-for-leave.html

Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Wednesday, May 23, 2007. I need a vacation. Get away from the grind. Cut me some slack. Stop time from passing. And seasons from changing. Let me take a break. Cus life is a hard enough job to hold. I’m thinking I can’t handle it no more. Book me a ticket. And allow me to soar. Give me my paycheck. And a bonus too. So when I’m on holiday. I will not rue. All the years I spent. The stress, the strife.

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mOtLeY

Motley Poetry. All sorts. Some I write. Some I like. Some I found. Everthing and anything. Nothing, even. Wednesday, January 9, 2008. I do not love you. I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,. Or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,. In secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms. But carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;. Lives darkly in my body. Translated by Stephen Tapscott).

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