Litter Acrostic Poems

TO THE TRUTH - Lope de Vega

Daughter of time, in the golden
beautiful and candid lived on earth, where lies
you
banish this beast Iron Age and cry. Santa

truth
decorum worthy of heaven itself, that holds your sun;
perpetual peace in our mortal war,
and man's greatest treasure.

Where To Put Rar Files For Mount And Blade

speech about goatherds Don Quixote - Miguel de Cervantes

When Don Quixote had quite appeased his appetite he took a fist acorn in his hand, and contemplating them attentively delivered himself somewhat in this fashion.

- Happy the age, happy those whom the ancients gave the name of golden, not because of them gold, in this our iron age well is believed to be achieved at that fortunate without toil, but because they that lived in it knew the two words "yours and mine. Were in that blessed age all things common. No one was required to achieve the daily food to take another job to raise your hand and gather it from the sturdy oaks that stood generously inviting him with their sweet ripe fruit. The clear streams and running brooks, in great abundance, tasty and transparent offered them water. In the clefts of the rocks and hollows of trees were their republic bees caring, giving every hand, without interest, the plenteous produce of their fragrant toil. The mighty oaks goodbye to each other, with no other artifice than his courtesy, his broad light bark that began to cover the houses supported by rude stakes, no more for the defense of inclement sky. Then all was peace, all friendship, all concord. Still had not dared the heavy grating or curved plow to open the tender bowels of our first mother that without compulsion yielded from every parts of its fertile bosom, which could satiate, sustain, and delight the children that then possessed. Then was it that the simple and beautiful petticoat from valley to valley and hill to hill, with braided hair and no more garments than were needful modestly to cover what modesty seeks and ever sought to be covered, and Nor were their ornaments like those now used, to whom the Tyrian purple, and silk tortured in many ways more expensive, but with some green leaves of burdock and ivy intertwined, so they went as bravely and made as they agora our courtesans with the rare and far-fetched artifices that idle curiosity has taught them. Then he decorated the clothed themselves love, pure and simple soul, be of the same mode and manner conceived them without looking contrived words to express rodeo. There was no fraud, deceit or malice mixed with truth and sincerity. Justice was in her own words, without the dare to disturb or offend the favor and of interest, that now so much impair, pervert, and beset her. Arbitrary law had not yet been settled in the mind of the judge, because then there was that judge, or who were judged. Maidens and modesty, as I have said, wandered, alone and Sener, without fear that the ease and lewd intent outside the impairment and his downfall was born of his own will and pleasure. And now in this our hateful age is not safe, not even the obscure and new labyrinth like that of Crete, for there, through openings or by air, with the zeal of its accursed, they enter the pestilence and makes love to with all his devotion to fret. For their safety, as time advanced and wickedness increased, it instituted an order of knights errant, to defend maidens, to protect widows and help the orphans and the needy. This order I belong, brother goatherds, who appreciate the kindness and hospitality that you do to me and my squire. That, although natural law are all living obliged to favor the knights-errant, yet, you know that without knowing this obligation and regalastes acogistes me is why, with the possible will to me, thank you yours.
All this long harangue, which may well excuse, our knight delivered because the acorns they gave him brought to mind the golden age, and the whim seized to make this unnecessary argument to the goatherds, without answering him a word, spellbound and suspended, we were listening. Sancho provided himself said nothing and ate acorns, and visited very often the second wine-skin, which, because the wine cool, had hung on a cork.

Does Tea Tree Oil Help Dyshidrotic Eczema

paper 26. Swirl



The folio on the table and the words that are no longer subject. Some charge
shape, fireplace, for example, or a
map with cities where we have been afraid, or lived
a love that God will punish us. Verses are underlined
lianas
now jumping to other poems. There are metaphors
digging his own grave and buried alive.
red marks shake the blood. Tip the table
When everything you've written
slides down a slide and you never see him again.

______________________________________

Ten Best Unrated Movies 2010

25. Life footnotes


Das
a blow on the table but the poem does not scream.
spit on paper but the verses do not flow.
An image comes over as a neap tide, and to talk
imagining you naked. It is not a pupil
following the ringing of the words. Neither
someone who shuffles cards and memorabilia
as you pray for a lucky hand. No.
The breath comes to you after having dodged
thousands of poets. In less than a second
've been in houses, holidays, early mornings,
with the same joy, with the same verve.
You write like you dance, unsafe and unregulated,
chew each sentence until you toothache.
is difficult to know if your tears were of sorrow or joy.
're used to seeing things this way,
to return the meat, promises the perfect summer
through language. For every story
have cavities and crevices, masks turned inwards,
their own story within the story. Because
quietly, closing a window,
you see yourself growing old suddenly. Your fingerprints

revived in the bare backs you've loved.
Your tears of pain, your laughter radiating EVP
are living in basements and rooms where once
did you not see your image in the mirror though
swore to be there, loving, suffering, silent, moving
. Trade it all for a verse
to boil to a different temperature, which melts
with the past and future simultaneously.
think in a new poem and imagine yourself lifting weights
in an Olympic final, or in a hospital bed with tubes
throat, or pulling the heart
in the wrong container. There's something I've understood
after so many years. There are words that explode in your ears
and breathe on their own, and when they run down your arm
through an artery mysterious, they arrive in your hand
and slide like beads through your fingers, you feel
after searching for something you did not want to find
've found something that was not looking. ___________________________________________