Frases, textos, poemas.

¿Tienes alguna frase, o parte de canción, texto o poema que te guste y quieras compartilo?
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Morgan moves back to the familiar charms of his fiery days when Morgan still felt something. No longer. Morgan's like a slave, three feet of paper and a family of four. Morgan wonders why his wife is so slow, blames his wife for his slow love. He shakes his head as he climbs into bed, Grits his teeth as he moves between the sheets. Morgan feels like sudden laughter when he sees. He doesn't sleep much on account of a terrible pain in his head. And sometimes Morgan sits up in the loft reading from a book of children's stories. Jaws no ordinary sucking harder, sagging eyelids & pocked cheeks, Intelligent the television buzzes & crackles & preaches Morgan feels like his family have made a conscious effort to cause him misery. His taste buds have deserted, sneaking away from his wife's cooking. Morgan dreads the family meal, clenching one hand under the table. The bland wall hangings nod at the food in recognition. They are far too familiar with one another. Morgan's work for minimum wage is no comfort. He thinks about the items that have sapped his money over the years, shoe polish, oven cleaner, vacuum bags, sugar substitute. A pathetic collection of unwanted gifts and dream-sapping commerce. Any creative reserves once stored are long gone. Morgan seethes at the realisation he has given his children too much of the little he has. Morgan wishes his family dead. Lacking imagination, and full of despair, Morgan turns tail and leaves without a word. The door shuts compliantly as he moves outside. Slips slightly on the spit-covered steps of his estate. Morgan crunches down the path with regular, driven feet, pushing through the grey clouds escaping his mouth. Approaching the train tracks, he sighs, lays flat across the line, and shuts his eyes.

Mi poema favorito <3
I carry your heart with me by E.E. Cummings.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Bueno ahí va el que más me gusta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Escribir, por ejemplo: "La noche está estrellada,
y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos."

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.
La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.
¡Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos!

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.
Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

Oír la noche inmensa, más inmensa sin ella.
Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

¡Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guardarla!
La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.
Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.
Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.
Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

Yo no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise..
Mi voz buscaba al viento para tocar su oído.

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.
Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.
Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,
mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,
y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.