William Shakespeare
Related WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE Heavy is the head that wears the crownCHARMAINE J. FORDE I like to open for a band as it brings on sort of a challenge and it makes things more interesting. ... KELLY JONES HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CHARLES BUKOWSKI ISRAELMORE AYIVOR ANTONIN ARTAUD RICHARD CARLSON MAYA ANGELOU She was intimidating and all I could do was sit back on the couch as she paced back and forth, slowl... IN THE MAKING E.E. CUMMINGS ROMAN PAYNE William Shakespeare: 'Close up this din of hateful decay, decomposition of your witches' plot! You t... GARETH ROBERTS SWAMI DHYAN GITEN WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ROBERT BROWNING even in death, his last breath was poetryN'ZURI ZA AUSTIN A.E. HOUSMAN HELEN STEINER RICE CHARLES BUKOWSKI MUNIA KHAN THE BARROW ANTHONY THWAITE God moves in a mysterious way WILLIAM COWPER WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS PABLO NERUDA . . .because we had survivedLISEL MUELLER T.S. ELIOT URSULA K. LE GUIN My country, 'tis of thee,SAMUEL FRANCIS SMITH LUCRETIUS Her moral obligationBRIAN D'AMBROSIO ANNA AKHMATOVA C.A. SCHLEA WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE There comes a point in lifeNEELAM SAXENA CHANDRA RUPERT BROOKE Butterfly KissesMUSE ANONYMOUS RICHARD CARLSON WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ERNEST DOWSON The gospel brings tidings, glad tidings indeed,WILLIAM GADSBY No!ZORICA SAVRON who are youM.K In Blackwater Woods MARY OLIVER WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE From “Rock Star” in Every Lyric Tells A Story.MARK WILKINS Child, as I look in your eyesMICHAEL MCDONALD CLINT CATALYST This is Just to Say WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS SHEL SILVERSTEIN PABLO NERUDA MARY OLIVER No one is exemptCRAIG RAINE J.K. ROWLING J.R.R. TOLKIEN MUNIA KHAN OMAR KHAYYáM Are we like two stars in a constellationJUSTIN WETCH SUZANNE COLLINS In the Desert STEPHEN CRANE SETH GRAHAME-SMITH CHARLES BUKOWSKI KOBAYASHI ISSA HERMANN HESSE MARY OLIVER ALLAN RUFUS Creed by Abigail Carroll, p.196-197SARAH ARTHUR We wear our lives SHANE L. KOYCZAN WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE There is a desire within each of us,GERALD G. MAY ALFRED TENNYSON Though we might have precious littleRUSH ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING KAMAND KOJOURI ROMAN PAYNE ALEXANDER POPE SHEL SILVERSTEIN MARY OLIVER We will speak for the books."PAUL ACAMPORA PABLO NERUDA CHARLES BUKOWSKI EDGAR LEE MASTERS ELLEN HOPKINS
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Sweet are the uses of adversity, 
Sweet are the uses of adversity,
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,
Wears yet a precious... 
Sweet are the uses of adversity; Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel... 
The writer of this legend then records
the pleasures of the damned
Don't die with the music on your tongue unsung!
There is in every madman
Now is the only time we have, and the only time that we have any control over. 
We, unaccustomed to courage
sweet spring is your
A tired man lay down his head
RELATIONSHIPS & THE INNER BEING 
Grow old along with me!
Oh fair enough are sky and plain,
A mother's love is like an island 
Sitting in a corner, I live like a toad 
God moves in a mysterious way 
And yet one arrives somehow, 
The morning is full of storm
The dripping blood our only drink,
The Sun Going South
Vineyards and shining harvests, pastures, arbors,
Flowers, cold from the dew,
In the spring of life, in the flower of youth, 
Ah God! to see the branches stir 
To Your eyes a thousand years are like yesterday come and gone, no more than a watch in the night.
Now is the only time we have, and the only time we have any control over. 
AUTUMNAL
In Blackwater Woods
...feel the fierce way desire
This is Just to Say 
There's a Polar Bear
This is what I am, I'll say, to leave this written
Of course! the path to heaven
Who was this women?' asked Harry.
This thing all things devours:
Every morning
I sometimes think that never blows so red
Deep in the meadow, under the willow
This is one hell of a suicide note.
I suppose like others
In the city fields 
Oh oak tree, how they have pruned you. 
Praying
Life is like a game of chess.
Perplext in faith, but pure in deeds,
Books, books, books!
This is an ode to life.
In the boundaryless forests, 
The bookful blockhead ignorantly read,
the flesh covers the bone 
I have studied many times
Memory is a tenuous thing. . . .