LOVE AND MISADVENTURES PDF
Love & Misadventure Pdf is available here. You can easily download Love & Misadventure Pdf, Love & Misadventure Pdf by ecogenenergy.info Answered Jun 17, I got the book from Lang leav - love ecogenenergy.info ( KB). Click the 1st link and follow the instructions to download the PDF. Love & Misadventure book. Read reviews from the world's largest community for readers. Lang Leav is a poet and internationally exhibiting artist. A. .
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Read here ecogenenergy.info?book= Read [PDF] Download Love & Misadventure (Lang Leav) Full Download. Download Download Love & Misadventure (Lang Leav) | PDF books PDF Online Download Here. This is the first poetry e-book I read in this year. I was on my way to Riyadh, I forgot to bring any book with me, so I decided to buy randomly from.
This book lack of depth comparing to some of her other work. Really disappointed in this one. Apr 14, Aug 13, Jesse JesseTheReader added it. I've been reading this off and on for the longest time, but I finally made my way through the collection! I'll admit, I don't really know how to review poetry.
I enjoyed this collection immensely and I definitely have the desire to pick up more works by Lang Leav. View 2 comments.
Jan 26, Khanh, first of her name, mother of bunnies rated it did not like it Shelves: Back when I was with my gamer ex-boyfriend, we would give each other cards containing stupid geeky poetry for Valentine's Day: Roses are red Violets are blue All my base Are belong to you.
As painfully silly as it is, that little snippet is still significantly better than the poetry in this book. At least it wasn't meant to be taken seriously. Unless I've missed something and this book is meant to be some grand satire of the artistic sort. In which case, carry on! If you think this is good poetry: T Back when I was with my gamer ex-boyfriend, we would give each other cards containing stupid geeky poetry for Valentine's Day: To love him is something I hold highly suspicious.
Like having something so very delicious then being told to do the dishes.
And you still think it is good poetry beyond the age of 9, we seriously need to have a talk. And if you are one such person on my friend list, kindly remove yourself from it posthaste.
Why the fuck is the rating so high? View all 27 comments. Jan 19, Greg rated it it was ok Shelves: I'm not a poet, but this book did inspire me to write this little couplet: I cry for all the dead trees, for these poems you died thee. So many dead trees. So much blank space in the book, actually every single verso page in the poetry section is blank the three illustrations grace verso pages and the traditional verso page has its usual blah blah blah stuff about publishing information.
So many trees dying for the pretentiousness of blank pages and white space.
Love & Misadventure
Lots of people like this book, and that is great. I can be sort of snobbish with what I choose to read sometimes, but I think it's great when people read and anything people buy bookwise helps keep me in a job so that's good, too.
The poetry is not very good. I'm not trying to disparage anyone who likes this book, but it's just not that good. And I totally get that, I have a whole library of songs that I like to listen to and wallow in—some of which are embarrassing and some of which I'm fairly certain are good outside of the cheap emotional responses they are producing. I was going to compare this just now to Bright Eyes to give mention to one of the embarrassing sides of my own tastes , but I'm fairly certain that Connor Oberst is a better wordsmith.
But the emotional level in this book gives me the same feelings I have when a couple across from me on the subway are actively engaging in public displays of affection or are having a fight, not really something I'd choose to share with them.
As poems these are just undisciplined ramblings. Sometimes there are rhymes thrown in ok, actually a lot of times there are rhymes , but there is no apparent rhyme or reason to when they are being used. There is no real structure to it. Rhyming in poetry gives a work structure and lyricism, something lacking in these poems. They maddeningly border on being lyrical at times, but then break apart with some borderline pretentious wordiness.
Because there doesn't seem to be a structure to the rhymes in most of these poems, they come across as cutesy conveniences rather than as a limit imposed on the work to give it shape. These poems don't feel like they have been worked on, they feel like they have been dashed off and thrown out there for the world. They don't feel crafted. I'll let the poems speak for themselves though. Mornings With You I slowly wake as day is dawning, to fingertips and lips imploring. The sheets against my skin, he says, like wrapping paper on Christmas morning.
Little sparks of static dance across my skin. Does it hurt? He says, running his hands gently over my warm body. It is your own little fireworks show, I whisper. His Cause and Effect He makes me turn he makes me toss; his words mean mine are at a loss. He makes me blush! He makes me want to brush and floss. A Dangerous Recipe To love him is something, I hold highly suspicious.
Like having something, so very delicious-- then being told, to do the dishes. I had written a bit of an apology here about how this just isn't my thing but I get if you like it.
Fuck that though, this isn't good. It's popular but so is a lot of poorly written crap out that. I try not to be a snob about things but fuck it, any negative reviews of this book are up against an army of people out to make it look like Lang Leav does no wrong.
There are more than enough places you can see people gushing about how good this is, and you can feel good about yourself in those reviews.
This might be art and art might be something subjective but there is still well crafted and poorly crafted art. Just because you've created something is it automatically good. You can tell me I'm wrong, but I'll stand behind what I think of this work, which Yes I did read it in its whole fairly awful entirety.
I'm giving it two stars because I also get that I'm not the audience for this. The audience for this might be bigger than the audience for anything for anything that I like but I want more from books and poetry. I don't want cute little easy snippets of just about twitter length 'awwwws'. No matter how many copies this sells, and no matter how many followers Lang Leav has it won't change the fact that as poetry this is pure drivel and if in the future there is an equivalent of the Stuffed Owl Anthology of Bad Verse this whole book could be safely put in it.
View all 64 comments. Jan 19, Jane Kim rated it really liked it. To the reviews that basically take a giant shit on Leav's ability as a poet, You're missing the point. I can only speak for myself completely, but I know many people would agree with me when I say that love does not need advanced prose.
If what you're looking for is sheer structural and linguistic genius, then this is not the book for you; however, often, true feelings are raw. Prose that comes from these feelings shouldn't need any gimmicks to impact the human heart. In fact, even words at a ba To the reviews that basically take a giant shit on Leav's ability as a poet, You're missing the point.
In fact, even words at a bare minimum should be able to resonate with you. That's the point with Lang Leav. Leav has the ability to string together simple words and strike the human heart, and that's why her book holds so much appeal. I'm sorry if I offend anyone when I say this, but to be honest, I think it's a bit pretentious to look for stylistic sophistication from a genre or type of prose that is supposed to speak the words your heart could never say. In that case, you may be missing the point of prose altogether.
View all 12 comments. Oh my god, I dislike it a lot, and I don't give a damn if it rhymes or not. I'm cursing like hell. It was a painful experience; I need some air. I dared. I am so mad because I had high hopes for this book. Sure, I was more intrigued by the misadventure part, but still I thought I would like it. However, I found this: What the hell is that?! I feel bad for that poor tree that became paper. A bit unfair, don't you think?
Okay, another sample: Let's take a look at these other gems: He and I When words run dry, he does not try, nor do I. We are on par. He just is, I just am, and we just are. Anyway, when I was 12 or 13 years old, I had this diary filled with little poems about love and unrequited love, sighs, love, prince charming, love and more pinky pink love with a pinch of girl-pining-for-guy-ready-to-leave-everything-to-be-with-him.
I remember one of those high-quality poems: That means something like: Do you see the resemblance? And with this, I am not saying I am so mature and such a complex and supernaturally smart person bla blasasdssdf.
I love poetry, and I know that it does not have to be all pretentious with difficult words and incredible images and erudite thoughts.
Love & Misadventure
But, seriously, have you read those verses I just quoted?! I was expecting something more substantial. Just saying. Babbling over. And I thought those were awfully cheesy.
Oh no, I am not translating that. If only I had collected all those poems A better book.
I am sorry. I don't enjoy rating books with one sad star. In fact, I don't have many one-star books. I try to find the silver lining. But in my humble opinion, there is no silver in here, and definitely no lining. It is all cloudy and foggy and with a chance of rain. However, this is just one reader's opinion. A lot of people liked this book, so go ahead and find out for yourself. View all 66 comments. Jul 02, Milena Wo rated it it was amazing Recommended to Milena by: View all 6 comments.
Nov 12, Carla Carla's Book Bits rated it did not like it. I took some time to peruse this at the library because everyone's been getting excited about it on Tumblr. I don't really know what I expected.. Given the hype, I guess I expected to read some really insightful and profound stuff, but instead what I got was this: For— I am not a bore! It's not my cup of tea. View 1 comment. Nov 10, Jason rated it did not like it Shelves: I wanted to like this poetry collection because a dear former student let me borrow it.
I am dreading the talk we will have when I hand it back to her. Maybe I'll just say, "Thank you for sharing this book with me. That was very thoughtful of you. I will tell her that I was mainly reminded of greeting cards when I read this collection.
For example, take this poem "Always": You were you, and I was I; we were two I wanted to like this poetry collection because a dear former student let me borrow it. You were you, and I was I; we were two before our time.
Gag me. Her poems put these to shame, although sometimes they were kind of cute. Here's "Xs and Os": Love is a game of tic-tac-toe, constantly waiting, for the next x or o. Greeting card. Lines of verse like that belong inside a Valentine's Day card. The overwhelming majority of these poems seem like they are first drafts scrawled in a notebook by a middle school girl who dots her i's with hearts. Here's "Closure": Like time suspended, a wound unmended--you and I. We had no ending, no said good-bye.
For all my life, I'll wonder why. These bite-size poems feel incomplete, like they were just Jackson-Pollocked onto the page and because they're lovey-dovey, we as readers are supposed to like them.
Perhaps I am not the target audience for this collection. I was shocked to see it had such a high rating. This is just an instance of my being an English snob, I suppose. The one poem I really like in this collection, "Rogue Planets," is a prose poem with some actual development. In typing Leav's poems, I did not recreate her line breaks for speed's sake. Sep 04, Ariel rated it liked it.
I really enjoy reading modern poetry, especially by poets my age and poets that start their careers with an online following, and so I was really curious to see what Lang Leav had to offer! This collection had a few poems that I dog eared, and I found some of the ideas cute or interesting, but overall it wasn't my style of poetry.
I don't think I'll be picking up anything else by Lang Leav, but that's okay! Life goes on! This is probably more like a 2. Nov 26, Kimberly Lloyd rated it it was amazing. Perhaps this person carries within them an angel--one sent to you for some higher purpose; to teach you an important lesson or to keep you safe during a perilous time. What you must do is trust in them--even if they come hand in hand with pain or suffering--the reason for their presence will become clear in due time.
Their purpose isn't to save you but to show you how to save yourself. And once this is fulfilled; the halo lifts and the angel leaves their body as the person exits your life. They will be a stranger to you once more. View all 3 comments. Jan 20, Miriam rated it did not like it. This poetry is so terrible that at first I thought it was a joke, but apparently that is not the case.
View all 5 comments. Oct 16, Louisa rated it did not like it Shelves: He makes me turn, he makes me toss; his words mean mine are at a loss. I like reading it; I like writing it; it's something I wish more people were into, though I can certainly understand why they aren't. My poetry professor once said that a good poem ought to have some form of metaphor or poetic sense.
Lang Leav's poems are all the definition of bite-sized. They're easy to understand - a little too easy to understand. I've written poems like these myself, but I certainly expect a lot more profound stuff from a book as celebrated as this is. Your hand reaches for mine. To new beginnings, in fear and faith and all it tinges. To love is a dare, when hope and despair, are gates upon it hinges. Xs and Os Love is a game of tic-tac-toe, constantly waiting, for the next x or o.
A Dangerous Recipe To love him is something, I hold highly suspicious. Like having something, so very delicious— then being told, to do the dishes. Just Friends I know that I don't own you, and perhaps I never will, so my anger when you're with her, I have no right to feel. I know that you don't owe me, and I shouldn't ask for more; I shouldn't feel so let down, all the times when you don't call.
What I feel—I shouldn't show you, so when you're around I won't; I know I've no right to feel it but it doesn't mean I don't. When Ignorance Is Bliss I deplore, being ignored. For— I am not a bore! But it's perplexingly sweet, and quite sexy too— to be ignored, ignored by you. Heart on the Line Love is good, it is never bad— but it will drive you mad! When it is given to you, in dribs and drabs. Sea of Strangers In a sea of strangers, you've longed to know me.
Your life spent sailing to my shores. The arms that yearn to someday hold me, will ache beneath the heavy oars. Please take your time and take it slowly; as all you do will run its course.
And nothing else can take what only— was always meant as solely yours. Art and Books Without a doubt, I must read, all the books I've read about. See the artworks hung on hooks, that I have only, seen in books. A Voyage To be guided nor misguided in love, nor brokenhearted. But to sail in waters— uncharted. To be unafraid of all the things I used to fear, before I knew I shouldn't fear them. An Endearing Trait The scatterbrain, is a little like, the patter of rain.
Neither here, nor there, but everywhere. His Word I am not, just a notch on his belt. What he feels for me, he's never felt. I am a word he has heard but has never seen for himself. Yet he wants to know, how that word is spelt. A Well-Dressed Man His charm will disarm; his smile, in style; his fashion, in passion; his words, his flirt, his tie from his shirt, to my wrists— his kiss! A Stranger There is a love I reminisce, like a seed I've never sown. Of lips that I am yet to kiss, and eyes not met my own.
Hands that wrap around my wrists, and arms that feel like home. I wonder how it is I miss, these things I've never known. Wallflower Shrinking in a corner, pressed into the wall; do they know I'm present, am I here at all?
Is there a written rule book, that tells you how to be— all the right things to talk about— that everyone has but me? Slowly I am withering— a flower deprived of sun; longing to belong to— somewhere or someone. A Rollercoaster You will find him in my highs and lows; in my mind, he'll to and fro.
He's the tallest person, that I know— and so he keeps me, on my toes. His Cause and Effect He makes me turn, he makes me toss; his words mean mine are at a loss. He makes me blush! He makes me want to brush and floss.
Lost and Found A sunken chest, on the ocean ground, to never be found was where he found me. There he stirred, my every thought, my every word, so gently, so profoundly. Now I am kept, from dreams I dreamt, when once I slept, so soundly. Afraid to Love I turn away and close my heart— to the promise of love that is luring. For the past has taught to not be caught, in what is not worth pursuing— To never do the things I've done that once had led to my undoing.
The Wanderer What is she like? I was told— she is a melancholy soul. She is like the sun to night; a momentary gold.
A star when dimmed by dawning light; the flicker of a candle blown. A lonely kite lost in flight— someone once had flown. Part 2 The Circus of Sorrows Circus Town From a city so bright to a strange little town; on a carousel spinning, around and around.
The dizzying height, of the stars from the ground. The world all alight— with his sights, his sounds. A Timeline You and I against a rule, set for us by time. A marker drawn to show our end, etched into its line. The briefest moment shared with you— the longest on my mind. In Two Parts You come and go so easily, your life is as you knew— while mine is split in two.
How I envy so the half of me, who lived before love's due, who was yet to know of you. A Bad Day When thoughts of all but one, are those I am keeping. When sore though there is none, for whom I am weeping. A curtain drawn before the sun, and I wish to go on sleeping. Rogue Planets As a kid, I would count backwards from ten and imagine at one, there would be an explosion—perhaps caused by a rogue planet crashing into Earth or some other major catastrophe.
الكتاب الثلاثون: ديوان “Love and Misadventure” للكاتبة Lang Leav
When nothing happened, I'd feel relieved and at the same time, a little disappointed. I think of you at ten; the first time I saw you.
Your smile at nine and how it lit up something inside me I had thought long dead. Your lips at eight pressed against mine and at seven, your warm breath in my ear and your hands everywhere. You tell me you love me at six and at five we have our first real fight. At four we have our second and three, our third. At two you tell me you can't go on any longer and then at one, you ask me to stay.
And I am relieved, so relieved—and a little disappointed. Closure Like time suspended, a wound unmended— you and I. We had no ending, no said good-bye. For all my life, I'll wonder why. A Question It was a question I had worn on my lips for days—like a loose thread on my favorite sweater I couldn't resist pulling—despite knowing it could all unravel around me.
In your hesitation I found my answer. A Way Out Do you know what it is like, to lie in bed awake; with thoughts to haunt you every night, of all your past mistakes. Knowing sleep will set it right— if you were not to wake. Lost Things Do you know when you've lost something—like your favorite T-shirt or a set of keys—and while looking for it, you come across something else you once missed but have long since forgotten?
Well whatever it was, there was a point where you decided to stop searching, maybe because it was no longer required or a new replacement was found.
It is almost as if it never existed in the first place— until that moment of rediscovery, a flash of recognition. Everyone has one—an inventory of lost things waiting to be found. Yearning to be acknowledged for the worth they once held in your life.
I think this is where I belong—among all your other lost things. So many trees dying for the pretentiousness of blank pages and white space. Lots of people like this book, and that is great. I can be sort of snobbish with what I choose to read sometimes, but I think it's great when people read and anything people buy bookwise helps keep me in a job so that's good, too.
The poetry is not very good. I'm not trying to disparage anyone who likes this book, but it's just not that good. And I totally get that, I have a whole library of songs that I like to listen to and wallow in—some of which are embarrassing and some of which I'm fairly certain are good outside of the cheap emotional responses they are producing. I was going to compare this just now to Bright Eyes to give mention to one of the embarrassing sides of my own tastes , but I'm fairly certain that Connor Oberst is a better wordsmith.Saving You The darkness takes him over, the sickness pulls him in; his eyes—a blown-out candle; I wish to go with him.
For— I am not a bore! That's because the light is coming from you. For the past has taught to not be caught, in what is not worth pursuing— To never do the things I've done that once had led to my undoing. Hands that wrap around my wrists, and arms that feel like home.
I hate it when girls are submissive!
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