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it is

my finger touching the sky


it is

when i am ready

to wash my hands


it is

when i

have an image

it is you


by my trembling lips

don't go away


don't slip me away

from your loving caress


i would like spitting

for what i saw

i would like crying

for what i ve heard

but i am


i can stop

and wait


to come

inside of me


Edited by paoladegliesposti

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The shield of two dreams. N. Scott Momaday In the presence of the sun.


The shield of two dreams.

Dark water stared from her sleep, listening hard, holding her breath. There was, at a distance, the sound of a running horse, of hooves chipping rapidly at the hard winter ground. Strangely, there was no urgency in it, only the flat rapping of the hooves, the right rhythm of a running horse. It grew louder, than fainter; and then it was no more. She had not even thought of crying out. Then it occurred to her that no one else had heard. Her mother and father, her two sisters were there, almost within her reach, and they had not heard. They breathed easily in their sleep. Not one dog in the whole camp had heard. There was now only a deep, silent wake.

The next morning Dark Water told her father Green Shirt of what she had heard. " it approached as close as the stand of willows on Hungry Child Creek," she said. Green Shirt said nothing at first, setting his face in a frown. Then he said, " I dreamed of this before you were born, of a shield with owl feathers." And, sure enough, in the stand of willows there was the shield. It was very old and beautiful. " The shield was revealed to me in a dream long ago," said Green Shirt, " but it came to me at last in your dream. Now, when I hold it up to others, to my friends and enemies, I shall say, " This is my shield, and this is my daughter's shield! Behold!

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I stood upon the crest of the highest mountain

Calling down to those who dared to follow

That I might have attained the greatest of the heights

But a voice from above called out to me:

'Rest not upon your foolish pride

For you have taken but a single step

And as you await to come

There are those who patiently wait for you'


I was alone  unto myself

Content with the stillness of the sleepy forest

,When he arose out of the glowing embers of my fire,

And filled the darkened sky as he smiled upon the night

And thus are the words he silently spoke unto my soul:

"I ask not for your understanding, but you quiet acceptance

I seek not your respect but the unsung song of your heart" :

For lonely is the flower of my soul and still are the night's upon the ear

And as I stand in the silence of time, none save the mountains shall ever understand me;

For they too have bleed from the depth of their rocky soul


A thousand lifetimes have past since my passion first spoke unto me these words:

" Go forth that which is locked within the timelessness of your soul

And trust the listener  to understand"

But the voice of Wisdom answered:

"It would be better perhaps to leave the truth unsaid;

For the listener shall hear your words that clothe the truth,

But will not see the veil of their disguise


And hearing this caused my passion to cry,

For he knew that Wisdom always spoke for an enlightened reason;

And my Wisdom wept also,

For there was no joy being right at his brothers expense

So now I come to you that the thirst of my soul will be quenched

And the truth be unveiled before the eyes of the world


Daniel: Reflections of the dawn

Edited by littlejoe3

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Auguries of innocence By William Blake


To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill'd with doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his Master's Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A Horse misus'd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear.
A Skylark wounded in the wing,
A Cherubim does cease to sing.
The Game Cock clipp'd and arm'd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright.
Every Wolf's & Lion's howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul.
The wild deer, wand'ring here & there,
Keeps the Human Soul from Care.
The Lamb misus'd breeds public strife
And yet forgives the Butcher's Knife.
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that won't believe.
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belov'd by Men.
He who the Ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by Woman lov'd.
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spider's enmity.
He who torments the Chafer's sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night.
The Catterpillar on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mother's grief.
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly,
For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar.
The Beggar's Dog & Widow's Cat,
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat.
The Gnat that sings his Summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envy's Foot.
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artist's Jealousy.
The Prince's Robes & Beggars' Rags
Are Toadstools on the Miser's Bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for Joy & Woe;
And when this we rightly know
Thro' the World we safely go.
Joy & Woe are woven fine,
A Clothing for the Soul divine;
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The Babe is more than swadling Bands;
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made, & born were hands,
Every Farmer Understands.
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity.
This is caught by Females bright
And return'd to its own delight.
The Bleat, the Bark, Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heaven's Shore.
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of death.
The Beggar's Rags, fluttering in Air,
Does to Rags the Heavens tear.
The Soldier arm'd with Sword & Gun,
Palsied strikes the Summer's Sun.
The poor Man's Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Afric's Shore.
One Mite wrung from the Labrer's hands
Shall buy & sell the Miser's lands:
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole Nation sell & buy.
He who mocks the Infant's Faith
Shall be mock'd in Age & Death.
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the Infant's faith
Triumph's over Hell & Death.
The Child's Toys & the Old Man's Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons.
The Questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to Reply.
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out.
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesar's Laurel Crown.
Nought can deform the Human Race
Like the Armour's iron brace.
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow.
A Riddle or the Cricket's Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply.
The Emmet's Inch & Eagle's Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile.
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you Please.
If the Sun & Moon should doubt
They'd immediately Go out.
To be in a Passion you Good may do,
But no Good if a Passion is in you.
The Whore & Gambler, by the State
Licenc'd, build that Nation's Fate.
The Harlot's cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old England's winding Sheet.
The Winner's Shout, the Loser's Curse,
Dance before dead England's Hearse.
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born.
Every Morn & every Night
Some are Born to sweet Delight.
Some ar Born to sweet Delight,
Some are born to Endless Night.
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro' the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to Perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light.
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in the Night,
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day

Edited by paoladegliesposti

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Red  (inspired by red stickers)


First glimpses of light

captures my inner sighs

no flight

of imagery can dissolve

the sprout

of the middle night

accepting the sign
on the product of hands
it is no bargain
and places where love's domain
circle of life
let a peaceful
strings of pearls
mark the line of a beautiful neck
together is better than being alone
and alive
but circle of life lets
mark on us
each part shouts
for a peaceful
accepting the sign


(it's me writing)

Edited by paoladegliesposti

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The Angel By William Blake


I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe was ne'er beguiled!

And I wept both night and day,
And he wiped my tears away;
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart's delight.

So he took his wings, and fled;
Then the morn blushed rosy red.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten-thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again;
I was armed, he came in vain;
For the time of youth was fled,
And grey hairs were on my head.

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