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There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
I didn't have much hope. Soon I would be 50. Love was fitful and glorious and painful. There will always be thugs in caves murdering children and crowing. But we are capable of creating wonders beyond our imagination every second of the game.
A heavenly choir .. some individual faces at the front .. and all the rest in the careful fuzz of distance .. computer-generated to a full infinity
the tongue is bleeding, but the words come out the same. checking spelling, cursive immaculate, an orderly flight of birds across a yellowing page.
A young man, made of ebony, from Senegal or Somalia or the Côte d'Ivoire, sat down beside me gracefully… I gave him the twenty euro that I had to hand. Stammering, ill at ease, he asked me what I had in mind.
Dylan Thomas wrote that 'A good poem helps to change the shape of the universe.' Our 'good poem' is the listening to, and learning from, the people on the margins. But it will only be a 'good poem' if these whispers are translated into collective action.
The one on the left, wearing crimson tights, promises the world, probes with his pitchfork for hidden desires, sports a prehensile tail able to wrap around your mind ... his counterpart, in snowy alb, meditates on your right shoulder, sending into your soul's bloodstream a thirst for peace ...
You can't have your cake if it's eaten. Or your cooked goose if it's no good for a gander. Golden eggs are useless in a fragile economy. And what goes up must keep going.
Go and open the door .. stare at the bright blue sea .. for boats .. struggling southwards from Sri Lanka and Afghanistan. .. Feel the rippling fear of refugees .. wondering if supplies will last .. or a hand reach out .. or turn and lock the door.
At the IGA, the woman at the check-out peppers her speech with Darl. Her friendliness, the way she packs my plastic bags, greets me two days later – a connection Facebook can’t provide.
Lost — Waiting for Spring — God owes me Royalties — Niche — Folding & Flying — Judas and Jezebel — Donne captains a ship of fools — Home — Loose Change — election
Industrious servant of excellent fame .. You sting to protect the hive, then you die ... Instinct is such an unworthy name .. Which calls a selfless attitude, a lie.
You say to leave roses .. for the overcrowded arms of bikies .. You pop inflatable hearts and cut the strings .. of pink and stodgy cherubs .. You shoot down my skywriting plane mid-cliché .. This is not our day.
181-192 out of 200 results.