Masterpieces of literary creativity - page 3

 
Strong, Poruchik, VERY strong :)
 

How long will I stay under that sticky sky?
And through thick and thin, agreeing with the proven right,
I'll try to be the only one, not the first,
And sow my seed, but not what's in the sperm bank,
I know it takes time to get tired of the road,
Why is there so little time, there are so many roads?
And why so little time, when I'm in my thirties I don't know,
Where was that bus that takes you without a change,
Straight to success, not that I need it much,
And I achieved a little more than a new mobile,
Just wanted to see for myself what it's like up there,
Should I push someone down or can I just live?
While they're pushing you down and cursing with poetry,
I'll fly to the bottom of your player of my efforts,
Other people's respects, hey, don't turn it off,
I'm not as old as I sing in my verse

In halves of reflection and poles,
By years of defeat by sails,
But sailing I never stopped believing the compass,
To the shore from books and quiet places
To the shore from books and quiet places


Pulled unequivocally into this web,
♪ I'm sinking into the purity, making friends with the silence ♪
# And it don't matter who I listen to Kasta or St1m,
I wanna do it from the heart and with the soul,
So many new things to discover, new artists to play,
¶¶ Ain't got no talent, but a lot of blind spectators,
And you've got to live it down to tell the tale in the thirties,
But the spiral of the planet will hand the machines in their hands,
Cameras snap for our eyes,
Remembering high school, eleventh "B" grade,
The shiny smiles, that first ganjubas,
Then learned the secrets and there it was, beat and bass, battered eye,
# Gone to the back burner, sadly summer is far from a resort,
I hope creativity isn't all it's cracked up to be - free Winamp,
Friends of VKontakte, Deposit or Dump

Pencil - Compass (feat. Sklif)

 

So cries the spring...

In the evening city His streets are asleep
But I believe my words will reach you
Even if I don't hear the answer
Think of me, close your eyes for a moment
¶ I'll melt into the warm south wind ¶
You write a letter and send it in an envelope
¶ To my address, it's to my name, to your earliest caller ¶
# Tell me how much you love me

# Tell me how much you need me
¶¶ That no one can tear down the temple of our love ¶¶
No, no one can put out the fire of love in our souls
I give words of love to the wind, you listen to the wind
When you close your eyes, know that I'm there
I'm always there for you if you need me
Look, a raindrop drips like a tear
# Sweetheart, that's how spring cries

That's how spring cries
shalalala
That's how spring cries
shalalalala
So the spring cries
shalalalala
So the spring cries
shalalalala
Shalalalala

The road's calling me again
I'll be gone a long time, but don't forget me
I'm in the raindrops, I'm the wind in the field
I'm sad without you, sad to the point of pain
Willpower will help me hold on
¶ I'll race to you forever ¶
Across oceans, no, I won't get tired
# We'll be together I know we'll be together
# One, two, love's a game, a game of feelings
One, two, love is a game, love is an art
You, me, you and I are one
I'm night, you're day, I'm black, you're white
I'll make sure no one can separate us
My love for you will fly like a bird
Look - a drop of rain, dripping like a tear
Sweetheart, that's how spring cries

 

Spring, lovey-dovey.... Here's a theme:

"I love Jew Zyama!" Sung by: Arkady Severny

....
Oh, Mama, Mama, Mama!
I can't wait to tell you:
I loved a gypsy,
Now I love a Jew.

http://www.shansonprofi.ru/person/severnyi/lyrics/severnyi_lyublyu_evreya_zyamu_.html

 
rid писал(а) >>

Spring, love-morrows....

Without Spring

Money can often make a man get down on all fours, Line up in a row, make him fight tooth and nail. Money can make a non-drinker drunk in bed, And turn his whole life into a commercial transaction.

As the clock strikes and the hands whirl, you'll spin the wheel with tiny steps, You'll catch glimpses of the rest, Trying to trade a shabby bench for a throne. Make money, counting cents and pennies, Without money you'll puddle like a dead battery, Without money you'll be like a schoolboy who forgot his shift change change at home.
♪ Look for green and shades of it with your eyes, sniff out profit like a bloodhound, find loopholes, stick to the dough like a sticker, compare prices, take off your foam, hit your competition in the groin with your knee ♪ It's a game with no rules, baby, make money!You can't get out of this game, You were born with one card - it beats everyone and everything. That was yesterday, that's tomorrow, that's what matters. The rest is bullshit! You can't even get cheese in a mousetrap for free And you don't get your free smile till you've ordered something And opened your wallet Any character without a dime will get away with a joint of any severity I don't care if he got it by working, robbing or stealing You think that's not true, kid? Money's always in charge When you're old enough to ask permission. It burns people alive, leaving soot On them, making mincemeat and mush They're just artless drawings On paper, But without their investment, genius landscapes Are no prettier than the most lame caricatures. Yesterday it was, tomorrow it'll be the same!
 

The U.E. has taken over your minds
♪ W.H.E.'s the best thing you can dream of at night ♪
THE W.E.! ♪ And without your knowing it ♪
♪ You've become the conventional units ♪

Do you recognize her, the former "world's finest"?
Do you remember how your clothes flew off in the hallway?
No, you don't remember? She doesn't remember either.
You sleep with each other's asses in the same bed

You're both up to your necks in other cares now.
It's not that anyone's unhappy or living a shitty life,
No, they just got a parquet, bought a new fridge
And a mobile phone for my son - what's he need it for at seven?

And next weekend, you're going to IKEA,
to save 25.5 kopecks
Before you know it, it's Monday.
The workaday epic awaits.

♪ Corporate boozing, going out, where you're all ♪
Exes, like Adam and Eve tuguesa-forever?
The two happy ones from the photo taken outside the registrar's office.
What are you thinking about other than the exchange rate of the quid?


ID:

Do you remember a guy in a boon. Now she's bitch for you, and you're a bitch too. Just married,
your son will be seven soon an edge of a woman developing in her womb. Her mama told her: When love
it's colder, you have a look to maintain.
When you be older, you understand - money make man a man, before bail's getting bigger you need to
figure your plan. daa-a-amn! What is happened to my brother? you were fucking too slow, now you
always use a rubber, cuz having another child is a disadvantage.
Bought a new car you've got a bank loan to manage
Damage the state of mind at the sight of a dollar.
Life is nice, but sometimes you wan'a holla.

...long gone is my childhood,
and where do I go as a kid...

 

What a lovely twig. And I love the one about Ugly.

I used to only like cats, I used to have one. Regular grey-green, tigerish. Very affectionate. Died, the bastard, falling off the balcony. If it had fallen in winter, it would have survived. No, in summer.

We have a dog now, a Zwerg schnauzer. I love him, too. He's a different dog than the cat, and I didn't accept him right away. But now I love him very much.

It is very difficult to lose one's own animals. And lately a question occupies me: for what they love us? Are we worthy of their love?

 
 
Mathemat >>:

Какая милая веточка. И про Уродливого очень понравилось.

Раньше любил только котов, у меня был. Обычный серо-зеленый, тигровый. Очень ласковый. Погиб, сволочь, сорвавшись с балкона. Упал бы зимой - выжил бы. Ан нет, летом.

Теперь у нас песик, цвергшнауцер. И его тоже люблю. Пес - совсем другой, чем кот, я его не сразу принял. Но теперь очень люблю.

Очень тяжко терять своих родных зверей. И в последнее время занимает меня вопрос: а за что ж они нас-то любят? Мы-то их любви достойны?


No.
 
drknn >>:


Очень сильно написано...

Весеннее солнце и свежий воздух утомили мои ноги, и я присел на лавочку.

.... До сих пор, я бросаю монеты под лавочку, ведь я его друг, пусть знает, что я рядом.


The author is here.

Nobody really knows the author :-) There is an assumption of authorship here.

Ugly liked it very much. I read it about three years ago.

Reason: