 - Last login: 17 hours agoLimbricus
- Limbricus is a 36 year old married guy from New York, New York, USA.
- Likes 707 pages, 14 videos, 62 photos • 14 fans • Received 5 reviews
- Member since Mar 18, 2008
"Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats." H.L. Mencken 1880
Favorites » His poetry pages

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Ono no Komachi
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Jun 19, 6:40am
40 reviews
poetry
http://www.gotterdammerung.org/japan/literature/ono-no-komachi/
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On such a night as this
When no moon lights your way to me,I wake, my passion blazing,
My breast a fire raging, exploding flame
While within me my heart chars.
~Ono no Komachi~
A thing which fades
With no outward sign
Is the flower
Of the heart of man In this world!
~Ono no Komachi~

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Poezii Romanesti
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Jun 9, 12:15pm
1 review
poetry, romanian-poems
http://www.romanianvoice.com/poezii/poezii/motanul.php
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Although some poems have been translated to several languages, I cannot vouch for the quality of the translator's work. Fluency in Romanian is best for this site.
http://www.romanianvoice.com/poezii/index.html
Some of my favorite poems reside here. Some day, I may attempt to translate a few select works. Quite a daunting task as I do not want to water down the essence that makes these works so beautiful.

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Scrapblog Viewer
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May 30, 9:11pm
29 reviews
poetry
http://www.scrapblog.com/viewer/vw_full.aspx?sbid=228533
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Lots of quotes.

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the sea in me
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May 6, 10:30am
2 reviews
poetry
http://www.sundress.net/stirring/archives/v2/e3/adamse.htm
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(Thank you, de-novo for this stumble)
the sea in me
you detach from me.
separate your fingers
from mine with accuracy. darts.
oh datura. poison girl, couldn't
manage a greenhouse. always
late, stealing bones. and the roses
did they grow for you? did
they sprout under
your fingertips like children?
when you touch my skin
i quake, tremble, and take deep
breaths in because the sensation
is almosttoomuchtohandle.
i've spent years waiting for you,
and i still wait, i do. jealous
of bus stops that get your company.
of dining halls that get your seat.
my bed is so empty. i fill
it with books and crumbs and
keys. i make valentines for
you which i cannot send.
i see things that i want to give
but i can't because you are
underwater, almost.
long hair. sealong. mermaid girl
who swims around me. dolphin
woman, sad song, sea song.
your tears were the ocean and
you bathed me in your starfish.
winking once at me. your cape
of skin, the sponge, your feet,
each toe, a fin. i was
going to bring you hot chocolate
while you bathed but you never
seemed to stay that long. maybe
because i'm a land girl. get queasy
on the waves, can't deal with
turbulence.
but you, you float and swim.
Erica Adams

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poems wonder: The Well ~ Pablo Neruda
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May 5, 9:15am
1 review
poetry
http://poemswonder.blogspot.com/2008/04/well.html
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The ego is our greatest enemy and Pablo has found a way to plead against it with his depth of human understanding.
The Well ~ Pablo Neruda
At times you sink, you fall
into your hole of silence,
into your abyss of proud anger,
and you can scarcely
return, still bearing remnants
of what you found
in the depth of your existence.
My love, what do you find
in your closed well?
Seaweed, swamps, rocks?
What do you see with blind eyes,
bitter and wounded?
Darling, you will not find
in the well into which you fall
what I keep for you on the heights:
a bouquet of dewy jasmines,
a kiss deeper than your abyss.
Do not fear me, do not fall
into your rancor again.
Shake off my word that came to wound you
and let it fly through the open window.
It will return to wound me
without your guiding it
since it was laden with a harsh instant
and that instant will be disarmed in my breast.
Smile at me radiant
If my mouth wounds you.
I am not a gentle shepherd
like the ones in fairy tales,
but a good woodsman who shares with you
earth, wind and mountain thorns.
Love me, you, smile at me,
help me to be good.
Do not wound yourself in me, for it will be useless,
do not wound me because you wound yourself.

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Your Feet by Pablo Neruda
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May 5, 8:43am
1 review
poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-feet/
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Sweet little poem.
Your Feet
When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.
Pablo Neruda

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Your Laughter by Pablo Neruda
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May 5, 8:38am
2 reviews
poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-laughter/
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Taking away your laughter is another way of saying good bye to someone you no longer love.
Your Laughter
Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.
Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.
My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.
My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.
Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.
Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.
Pablo Neruda

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Love by Pablo Neruda
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May 5, 8:03am
3 reviews
poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-7/
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Great poem.
Love
What's wrong with you, with us,
what's happening to us?
Ah our love is a harsh cord
that binds us wounding us
and if we want
to leave our wound,
to separate,
it makes a new knot for us and condemns us
to drain our blood and burn together.
What's wrong with you? I look at you
and I find nothing in you but two eyes
like all eyes, a mouth
lost among a thousand mouths that I have kissed, more beautiful,
a body just like those that have slipped
beneath my body without leaving any memory.
And how empty you went through the world
like a wheat-colored jar
without air, without sound, without substance!
I vainly sought in you
depth for my arms
that dig, without cease, beneath the earth:
beneath your skin, beneath your eyes,
nothing,
beneath your double breast scarcely
raised
a current of crystalline order
that does not know why it flows singing.
Why, why, why,
my love, why?
Pablo Neruda

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From – Twenty Poems of Love by Pablo Neruda
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May 5, 7:58am
2 reviews
poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-twenty-poems-of-love/
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"Forgetting lasts so long", indeed...
From - Twenty Poems of Love
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
Write for example: `The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars, in the distance'
The night wind turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like these I held her in my arms.
I kissed her greatly under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don't have her, to feel I have lost her.
Hear the vast night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.
What does it matter that I couldn't keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.
That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks for her: she is not with me
The same night whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.
I don't love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her.
Another's kisses on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.
I don't love her, that's certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.
Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content to have lost her.
Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the last lines I will write for her.
Pablo Neruda

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If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
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May 5, 7:54am
2 reviews
poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-you-forget-me/
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I love this poem and it's range.
If You Forget Me
I want you to know
one thing.
You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.
Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.
If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.
But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
Pablo Neruda
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