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 photos14 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

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Ono no Komachi
No opinion Jun 19, 6:40am 40 reviews poetry
http://www.gotterdammerung.org/japan/literature/ono-no-komachi/
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~
Poezii Romanesti
Liked it Jun 9, 12:15pm 1 review poetry, romanian-poems
http://www.romanianvoice.com/poezii/poezii/motanul.php
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.
Scrapblog Viewer
No opinion May 30, 9:11pm 29 reviews poetry
http://www.scrapblog.com/viewer/vw_full.aspx?sbid=228533
Lots of quotes.
the sea in me
No opinion May 6, 10:30am 2 reviews poetry
http://www.sundress.net/stirring/archives/v2/e3/adamse.htm
(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
poems wonder: The Well ~ Pablo Neruda
Liked it May 5, 9:15am 1 review poetry
http://poemswonder.blogspot.com/2008/04/well.html
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.
Your Feet by Pablo Neruda
Liked it May 5, 8:43am 1 review poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-feet/
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
Your Laughter by Pablo Neruda
Liked it May 5, 8:38am 2 reviews poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-laughter/
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
Love by Pablo Neruda
Liked it May 5, 8:03am 3 reviews poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-7/
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
From – Twenty Poems of Love by Pablo Neruda
Liked it May 5, 7:58am 2 reviews poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-twenty-poems-of-love/
"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
If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
Liked it May 5, 7:54am 2 reviews poetry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/if-you-forget-me/
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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