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In Memoriam T- B-There shone a vale of living gold, in Himalayan rainbow-light, where she would dance in rising spring, the graceless poetess, and I.In Memoriam T- B-
But every dance and spring must end, and so we parted, I to mine and she to her benighted path, and on she dashed down life's decline:
'til, sorrow smeared on sorrow's face, in almond-scented sorrow drowned, a hopeless, loveless, dream-drunk sot she lay, a failure lily-crowned.
No.
She lives yet - for there are things he cannot take, for all his greed, this wingless death, this little death, this
by ~unresurrectable
Wytham HillTake my hand.Wytham Hill
The stars are bright out over Wytham hill, away from Oxford's light, and soft! the woods exhale a thrill of frost. We'll trace the trackless wastes like fugitives, a pair of twilight-winged nightingales entwining in the upper air. You'll hum a strain of Stanford; I'll watch the blushing fall of moonlight on your cheek; you'll catch my eye and smile, with all the conflagration of the gyre, the lustre of the sky, the glow of clustered galaxies a glister in your eye, and say "you look so serious", and press my icy hand close to your heart, where skips a beat I scarc
by ~unresurrectable
The Romance of Ayn Jalin pt 3The Muezzin - Nightfall over the Persian GulfThe Romance of Ayn Jalin pt 3
The dying rays of a falling sun Tinge th'oil-dark sea with purple fire; Like a drowning man thrashes, his life near-run, The cloud-burst seethes, the seabirds gyre.
And as I rear on this minaret A flush of shadow pervades my realm; My half-lit, echoing land where yet One aged hand retains the helm.
With grating cry I greet the night, Lilting as I call to prayer A town of spectres, recondite And I the last, to live to dare.
Time was this city flowered with the rowdy crown of youth, But li
by ~unresurrectable
The Romance of Ayn Jalin pt 1The Lover - A Sea Voyage from BasrahThe Romance of Ayn Jalin pt 1
O Ayn Jalin, the dream of Said, The jewel of Persia's mere; Radiant star, supreme delight Of all who venture near.
Where poets toy with metric turn, Beneath the spreading fronds Of luscious ferns, where rhapsodes learn The lays of lost aeons.
Where fops parade their porph'ry plumes Where preach the Patriarchist priests; Beside imams and sundry loons Peddling piety, war and peace.
Where mathematicians throng in thrall To Qalanisi's library; Striving, thriving, threshing all Throught to
by ~unresurrectable
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- Favourite movie: Cold Mountain; Sin City; Goodbye Lenin, La Doublure
- Favourite band or musician: Thrice, Unearth, Twelve Tribes
- Favourite genre of music: -core. anything -core
- Favourite artist: Henri Rousseau/Lippi
- Favourite poet or writer: John Milton
- Favourite style of art: Classical Poetry
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- Personal Quote: "You got me. I really don't care about black people" George Bush to Kanye West
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--
There comes a point in everyones life when they must deside, Cheese or Eggs?
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love love love
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Les temps changent.
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'The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to talk, mad to live, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles.'
in this picture that it would have been cruel
not to! You've caught the spiritual calm in
his face and pose stunningly well.
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the budgie spoke on my behalf!
and you get that camera working! I want to see what you can do
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the budgie spoke on my behalf!
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"See, sex and magic have a lot in common. They're both mysterious and spiritual, involve going through an occasional trap door, and, in my case, are always performed for a live audience."
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