Despair
There is the darkest river/ that flows inside of me/ none have ever plumbed the depths /or felt the hollow need /the hunger cavernous and cold /the pain and black despair/ the overwhelming emptiness /when my master is not there
Despair
Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.
Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
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Title | Comments | Submitted |
Next | 1 | 10/07/2009 |
Pascal's Wager | 0 | 10/07/2009 |
Death? Poetry | 2 | 10/07/2009 |
Love is the question | 5 | 10/06/2009 |
Silent thoughts | 3 | 10/05/2009 |
The Last of Love | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
Red Tide | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
I am never Lonely | 1 | 10/05/2009 |
Thought Thief | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
Prison of Fear | 1 | 10/05/2009 |
Soul Hunger | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
My Master has come | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
Shared Silence | 1 | 10/05/2009 |
Despair | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
Chasm | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
Mimic | 0 | 10/05/2009 |
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