On test server
"Lisboa e Tejo e Tudo"
A small garden between Benfica's blocks - X
WORD NAVIGATION
Merry-go-round
When I have fears that I have to cease
A small garden between Benfica's blocks - XI
Ana Cristina CESAR
The white front will overcome the blue sky
THE LAND
The light surprised me in such a way that I went t…
Love cabin (my title)
COUNTDOWN
SLEEPING
Winter flowers
I don't know if God was ever needed for the Mankin…
A small garden between Benfica's blocks - XII
You want to sleep: get rid of the noise, and
Since electric trottinettes are operating, the GIR…
PORTABLE BARBECUE
Good morning everybody! Have a magic day!
When I walk around here I remember the "High Noon"…
MORNING
Of course, I paid my ticket to enter!!!
Cirque du Soleil, OVO (Lisbon, 10.01.2019)
The first camellia of 2019, in my garden
LONELINESS
Between rows
Fire at Restaurant Edmundo / Benfica, 08.01.2019,…
"OVER FLOW", 2018
The Tagus, the fog, the boat, the bridge, the elec…
Baking Paper Poem
A cold hug in the middle of the morning
Umbilical cords of world information (my title)
NUNCA SEREI UM DE VÓS, 2018
MAAT (Art Architecture Technology Museum)
LOVING SMILE - 56
Night Club
REACH
Selfie between fingers
Convergence
...done, today the desintoxication starts
See also...
Authorizations, license
-
Visible by: Everyone -
All rights reserved
-
792 visits
APSINTHION
What did I do in the war?
Son, I watched a download bar
and drank the last thing in the house.
I ran the show on meshugaas
the way some ancient dynamo
we couldn't replace would only go
on walnut oil or cherry must.
My poems sucked. My guitar grew dust.
But when we heard the star would fall,
did we choose to die like sheep?
Hell no - we were men, and blessed to know the hour and place...I jest.
One by one we fell asleep
and that is how they found us all.
by Don PATERSON, in "LONDON REVIEW OF BOOKS", Volume 37, Number 15, 30 July 2015
(photo taken from Internet; edited by Armando TABORDA)
(1st edition, 2015; 2nd edition, 2019)
Son, I watched a download bar
and drank the last thing in the house.
I ran the show on meshugaas
the way some ancient dynamo
we couldn't replace would only go
on walnut oil or cherry must.
My poems sucked. My guitar grew dust.
But when we heard the star would fall,
did we choose to die like sheep?
Hell no - we were men, and blessed to know the hour and place...I jest.
One by one we fell asleep
and that is how they found us all.
by Don PATERSON, in "LONDON REVIEW OF BOOKS", Volume 37, Number 15, 30 July 2015
(photo taken from Internet; edited by Armando TABORDA)
(1st edition, 2015; 2nd edition, 2019)
E. Adam G., Elbertinum, Patrice Leydier, cammino and 11 other people have particularly liked this photo
- Keyboard shortcuts:
Jump to top
RSS feed- Latest comments - Subscribe to the comment feeds of this photo
- ipernity © 2007-2025
- Help & Contact
|
Club news
|
About ipernity
|
History |
ipernity Club & Prices |
Guide of good conduct
Donate | Group guidelines | Privacy policy | Terms of use | Statutes | In memoria -
Facebook
Twitter
für alle Soldaten war der Krieg eine Realität kein Gedicht -
Sign-in to write a comment.