Azaleas secrets on Booksie

Azaleas secrets

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Booksie Address:	http://www.booksie.com/Azaleas_secrets
Country:	India
Member Since:	Dec 28, 2009

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Writing Portfolio

She was a woman once

Poem by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Sep 2, 2010
The way to ruin oneself... just dont move out of the...

Destiny's Decree

by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Aug 10, 2010
Not my usual stuff.. its like an honest journal entry...

Him....

Poem by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Jul 5, 2010
old poem... its already there on writers cafe.

This night is brief...

Poem by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Jun 18, 2010
suggestions are welcome..

Towards the Dawn..

Poem by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Jun 10, 2010
a situation...

Witchcraft..

Poem by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Jun 1, 2010
witchcraft of twisting the sense of passing time...

Azalea's secrets

Novel by Azaleas secrets
Posted: May 21, 2010
As a journalist, Azalea visits the remotest hamlets to...

He Who Turns the Planets...

Poem by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Apr 16, 2010
Sorry, I am unable to maintain a respectful distance with...

Memoirs of a Wildflower..

Poem by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Feb 15, 2010
Sunbeams have all the answers...

Without You...

by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Jan 25, 2010
I miss him...

On the Aisle of Purgatory

by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Jan 24, 2010
" Destiny cant recycle you without crushing you once. Its...

Suicide - What do you think?

by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Jan 17, 2010
My Dear Online family... how will you help a friend who...

Moments...

Poem by Azaleas secrets
Posted: Dec 28, 2009
Our Universe is an ongoing miracle. Like the crest and...

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- Azaleas secrets

'WHOSO SPEAKETH OF WHAT CONCERNETH HIM NOT, SHALL HEAR WHAT PLEASETH HIM NOT.'

-----ANONYMOUS

Passing Time

Your skin like dawn
Mine like dusk

One paints the beginning
of a certain end.

The other, the end of a
sure beginning.

by Maya Angelou

Siren Song

This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible:

the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see the beached skulls

the song nobody knows
because anyone who has heard it
is dead, and the others can't remember.

Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?

I don'y enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical

with these two faethery maniacs,
I don't enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.

I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song

is a cry for help: Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique

at last. Alas
it is a boring song
but it works every time.

By Margaret Atwood

"A ratio of failures is built into the process of writing. The wastebasket has evolved for a reason."

By Margaret Atwood

Self-Dependence

Weary of myself, and sick of asking
What I am, and what I ought to be,
At this vessel's prow I stand, which bears me
Forwards, forwards, o'er the starlit sea.

And a look of passionate desire
O'er the sea and to the stars I send:
'Ye who from my childhood up have calm'd me,
Calm me, ah, compose me to the end!

'Ah, once more,' I cried, 'ye stars, ye waters,
On my heart your mighty charm renew;
Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you,
Feel my soul becoming vast like you!'

From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven,
Over the lit sea's unquiet way,
In the rustling night-air came the answer:
'Wouldst thou be as these are? Live as they.

'Unaffrighted by the silence round them,
Undistracted by the sights they see,
These demand not that the things without them
Yield them love, amusement, sympathy.

'And with joy the stars perform their shining,
And the sea its long moon-silver'd roll;
For self-poised they live, nor pine with noting
All the fever of some differing soul.

'Bounded by themselves, and unregardful
In what state God's other works may be,
In their own tasks all their powers pouring,
These attain the mighty life you see.'

O air-born voice! long since, severely clear,
A cry like thine in mine own heart I hear:
'Resolve to be thyself; and know that he,
Who finds himself, loses his misery!'

by Matthew Arnold