paoladegliesposti

Poems, Videos, Lyrics, Letting A Positive Vibe-->Or Making Reflect--> Or Smile

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Alma1    125

 

 

Hope it's ok to join in.....

Fading ice of a winter's dawn, a sky reclaims. No longer meadows of barren glass, now flowing tides of hope. A heart opens. Rushing to drink from the warmth removing a cold ache. The greens of spring will wait a little longer, bulb now rooted. Patience.

 

It's more than ok to join in, tracmic. It's very welcome. :)

 

I'm wondering if you wrote what you posted here? Also, I think some of your 2nd post would lend itself to being song lyrics.

 

Yes Alma1 all the words are mine. Thank you for saying about the lyrics part. Sometimes I let the world creep in and just have to let words be words. I have a lot of little musings that I will add. Thank you for the kindness.

 

 

"Yes Alma1 all the words are mine."  Interesting words.

 

"Thank you for saying about the lyrics part...Thank you for the kindness." No problema.

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Alma1    125

 

"a telling , in an unknown place,  not a prosperous environment, in that time, two friends, on holiday time:

 

we sit on a bench and waiting for the train to come...And suddenly i have no past, instead a push inside that i have to tell and tell."

 

Paola, when I read what you posted there, I thought "Ahhh - a vignette. :) "  It's like a little sketch in writing. :)

you mean, comedian?

 

 

No, I don't mean comedic. I know what you mean about comedic sketches though - we call those 'skits' (like what they do on Saturday Night Live). When I said a vignette or a sketch, I meant a small piece of writing that kind of 'sketches' an experience or scene - or part(s) of it. Vignettes ("vin YETTS") - that's what I think of it as. I like the concept / idea of doing that! (In a way, it's a bit of a mini-story, if you can even call it long enough to be a story. It's shorter than a short story.) :)

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tracmic    0

 

Yes Alma1 all those words are mine. I get lost in life sometimes and need to just shut up and let words, be words. Thank you for saying

 

When you say "get lost in" do you mean carried away / engrossed in / caught up in...or do you mean "lost" as in 'can't seem to find my way' / 'head down the wrong path' / 'can't seem to find my bearings?'

 

When I get lost in life, when I get lost on a path, when I get lost in emotions( positive or negative), the words sneak out to help me find life, direction, emotions that need finding 

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Yes Alma1 all those words are mine. I get lost in life sometimes and need to just shut up and let words, be words. Thank you for saying

 

When you say "get lost in" do you mean carried away / engrossed in / caught up in...or do you mean "lost" as in 'can't seem to find my way' / 'head down the wrong path' / 'can't seem to find my bearings?'

 

When I get lost in life, when I get lost on a path, when I get lost in emotions( positive or negative), the words sneak out to help me find life, direction, emotions that need finding 

 

it is a universal enlighting :)  guide,from inner world, isn't it?

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tracmic    0

Yes Alma1 all those words are mine. I get lost in life sometimes and need to just shut up and let words, be words. Thank you for saying

 

When you say "get lost in" do you mean carried away / engrossed in / caught up in...or do you mean "lost" as in 'can't seem to find my way' / 'head down the wrong path' / 'can't seem to find my bearings?'

When I get lost in life, when I get lost on a path, when I get lost in emotions( positive or negative), the words sneak out to help me find life, direction, emotions that need finding

it is a universal enlighting :)  guide,from inner world, isn't it?

 

 

Yes it is. Helps me get through a lot, helps find the way and keeps me sane in a tumultuous world

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in a closed and prepared room for sounds, a group of boys and girls, a mixer and some instruments. We are going to spend  a few hours to pick up a tune:

 

i am the girl who sings and i am not the only one who sings.  A boy plays the guitar and i pretend to write lyrics that are more sounds that logic or emotional lines. My tone's voice doesn't go far and i see from the other guys' faces  that is a bit of annoying sometimes.

Anyway, my music sounds interesting. So, i try to play the guitar, i am amazed just as the other guitarist at his first steps, i am able to communicate  something with strings, I don't know how it comes out, mind and fingers and a sort of mysterious logic sums. What's the matter?

i cannot sing if i play the guitar. i don't want to sing  :( Plus, i am out of tune,perhaps. Who sings ? I cannot go far with the voice. The other singer is at the limit of my overdoing, he has disappeared from the room. The others too. I am alone with the guitar on my leg. Is it a daydream or is it reality ?And now? :( 

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LinneaS    0

Hey everyone, I know I haven't been around much!

A song by Roxette (remember them?) that I came across recently that makes me smile.

Church of Your Heart

Can we leave the world outside, just for awhile, just for awhile

And spend some time, you and I, under this bright, glorious sky?

It's been so long since I first saw you, 
But I still love that smile in your eyes

Yes it's true, right from the start, I believed in the church of your heart

Yes it's you, that made me be part of, and believe in the church of your heart

 

Step inside, lay yourself down, just for awhile, rest for awhile

I can hear a thundering sound, beating inside, when you're around

It's been so long since I first met you,
Since we made love, you know how time flies

Yes it's true, right from the start, I believed in the church of your heart

Yes it's you, that made me be part of, and believe in the church of your heart

I know I also have a poem I really like somewhere... I'll post it if I can find it.

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tracmic    0

Across a crowded street her giggle captured my ear. I couldn't see where it was coming from, but I knew we had to meet. I crossed the slush covered road and the rain stung on my poorly covered skin, red with cold, wet as ice. Converse soaked I followed my liege. Holding hope that her smile matched her song. Behind a paisley umbrella, arm in arm with her husband. Heart sinking I bumped into her gently as I passed. “Excuse me miss” I spoke silently with a smile. Peaking out from under her cover into the wet night, I died in her smile for only a brief eternity and spun down a corner. Fading away, I felt her perfect mocha eyes on me and heard her speak in yearning curiosity “excuse me.”

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Across a crowded street her giggle captured my ear. I couldn't see where it was coming from, but I knew we had to meet. I crossed the slush covered road and the rain stung on my poorly covered skin, red with cold, wet as ice. Converse soaked I followed my liege. Holding hope that her smile matched her song. Behind a paisley umbrella, arm in arm with her husband. Heart sinking I bumped into her gently as I passed. “Excuse me miss” I spoke silently with a smile. Peaking out from under her cover into the wet night, I died in her smile for only a brief eternity and spun down a corner. Fading away, I felt her perfect mocha eyes on me and heard her speak in yearning curiosity “excuse me.”

B)

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Alma1    125

Across a crowded street her giggle captured my ear. I couldn't see where it was coming from, but I knew we had to meet. I crossed the slush covered road and the rain stung on my poorly covered skin, red with cold, wet as ice. Converse soaked I followed my liege. Holding hope that her smile matched her song. Behind a paisley umbrella, arm in arm with her husband. Heart sinking I bumped into her gently as I passed. “Excuse me miss” I spoke silently with a smile. Peaking out from under her cover into the wet night, I died in her smile for only a brief eternity and spun down a corner. Fading away, I felt her perfect mocha eyes on me and heard her speak in yearning curiosity “excuse me.”

 

:)

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''You begin saving the world by saving one man at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics.''

Charles Bukowski (1920-1994), U.S. author, poet. "Too Sensitive," Tales of Ordinary Madness (1967).

 

<_<

Edited by paoladegliesposti

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''By bourgeoisie is meant the class of modern capitalists, owners of the means of social production and employers of wage labor. By proletariat, the class of modern wage laborers who, having no means of production of their own, are reduced to selling their labor power in order to live.''

 

Friedrich Engels (1820-1895), German social philosopher. Manifesto of the Communist Party (written in collaboration with Karl Marx), footnote (1888 edition).
Edited by paoladegliesposti

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