I'm a word chaser.
Balancing the syllables
death is my metre!
I'm a word chaser.
Balancing the syllables
death is my metre!
Ничего нет лучше для исправления, как прежнее с раскаянием вспомнить.
death is my metre.
Still, ease the wind in your hair,
as if it were ours.
"He was nauseous with regret when he saw her face again, and when, as of yore, he pleaded and begged at her knees for the joy of her being. She understood Neal; she stroked his hair; she knew he was mad."
---Jack Kerouac, On The Road: The Original Scroll
As if it were ours
We still thunder from the sky
Humid autumn night
(Great, someone else is awake!)
Humid autumn night
Save some of this cold for then --
warming the winter
Ничего нет лучше для исправления, как прежнее с раскаянием вспомнить.
Warming the winter
Soft flannel sheets on bear skin
His hand warm in mine
His hand warm in mine
his heart was yet to thaw out
I'm working on it
Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty
~Albert Einstein
I'm working on it
like planes love destination,
working on going.
"He was nauseous with regret when he saw her face again, and when, as of yore, he pleaded and begged at her knees for the joy of her being. She understood Neal; she stroked his hair; she knew he was mad."
---Jack Kerouac, On The Road: The Original Scroll
Working on going
but the wine was too bubbly
my chair swallowed me
Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty
~Albert Einstein
Working on going
Where is there, that, I don't care
A glow precedes me. (changed it as I messed up the syllable count)
...
My chair swallowed me
Aeons ago, never spat out
I made myself home.
Edit: Wow I messed this whole thing up it seems...
Last edited by Etienne; 03-01-2008 at 03:26 AM.
Et l'unique cordeau des trompettes marines
Apollinaire, Le chantre
A daze leads me,
The old will scold me, the wise,
regret my absence.
"He was nauseous with regret when he saw her face again, and when, as of yore, he pleaded and begged at her knees for the joy of her being. She understood Neal; she stroked his hair; she knew he was mad."
---Jack Kerouac, On The Road: The Original Scroll
Regret my absence
It won't happen as I messed up
This game of poetry.
Et l'unique cordeau des trompettes marines
Apollinaire, Le chantre
Jon, where did you pull that beginning line from?
I made myself home
but when my id was comfy
someone threw me out
ARGH ... Etienne, it is not you -- it is all in the timing, ha ha!
This game of poetry
becomes like the cat and mouse
darting all around
Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty
~Albert Einstein
My fault! my fault! leave me alone!Originally Posted by kiz_paws
Jon, where did you pull that beginning line from?
EDIT: See, still?
Darting all around
So confused, what is this curse?
O! The jester's time!
Last edited by Etienne; 03-01-2008 at 03:32 AM.
Et l'unique cordeau des trompettes marines
Apollinaire, Le chantre
My humblest of apologies, then, to you, Jon. And Etienne, don't worry, if you go back and read this whole thread, you will see even crazier muddles.
Who's next?
Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty
~Albert Einstein
Go Etienne Go!!! Yea yea, I love it!!! Kizzer too!
"He was nauseous with regret when he saw her face again, and when, as of yore, he pleaded and begged at her knees for the joy of her being. She understood Neal; she stroked his hair; she knew he was mad."
---Jack Kerouac, On The Road: The Original Scroll
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