why do bright things rust,
and colours fade?
why do bright things rust,
and colours fade?
Seasons change, the leaves fall, winter calls eternity.
leverage makes the heart
grow fonder
like snowflakes
Wry Luck
dream bombshell
once in a lifetime
sweet tranjectory
Last edited by alakungfu; 06-15-2009 at 09:25 AM.
"It is not the rich man you should properly call happy, but him who knows with wisdom how to use the blessings of the gods, to endure hard poverty, and who fears dishonor worse than death, and is not afraid to die for cherished friends or fatherland."
- Horace
calculated love
exonerated luck
in manner of fretting
"It is not the rich man you should properly call happy, but him who knows with wisdom how to use the blessings of the gods, to endure hard poverty, and who fears dishonor worse than death, and is not afraid to die for cherished friends or fatherland."
- Horace
Film
Throwing out stars
And their legacy too
"It is not the rich man you should properly call happy, but him who knows with wisdom how to use the blessings of the gods, to endure hard poverty, and who fears dishonor worse than death, and is not afraid to die for cherished friends or fatherland."
- Horace
your foolproof canoe
sinks
over forests and fumes
series of eight -word poems and haiku:
Millenium Annual
- Seasons of Youth
Aurora's Highlights
contrived accents
in Being accrued
recall doubt shed
Scrambling Mystery
periwinkles laugh
winking cues in the moonlight
of Hel's wand's defeat
- Seasons of Age
Timeless Fall of Icarus
tumble through clouds
discarded mount collapsing
hard bed
Time Less Fall
Pandora's credit
believing age-worn adage
a bird in the hand
"It is not the rich man you should properly call happy, but him who knows with wisdom how to use the blessings of the gods, to endure hard poverty, and who fears dishonor worse than death, and is not afraid to die for cherished friends or fatherland."
- Horace
The horror, you're dead yet my love lives.
Tears dew,
Morning grass;
Remnants of sorrows past.
Pink glitter
Falls over giggles,
And blushing cheeks.
Dead
I am the one
Underneath
the gun
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. ~ Edgar Allan Poe
Four years
- not seasons -
passed,
still I hated.
Where my roses
may fall
in scented
rains
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. ~ Edgar Allan Poe
Where
The Petals
Fall
There
My Eyelids
Wait.
===============-
When asked how World War III would be fought, Einstein replied that he didn't know. But he knew how World War IV would be fought: With sticks and stones.
-(:===============
Eyelids flutter
gentle butterfly wings
under rose powder
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. ~ Edgar Allan Poe
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