Our lovely ship, the Good Intent.
She sailed across the continent.
Her captain's name was Badly Bent
Her skipper's name was Broke
Oh leaden helmed and tough to steer
Her cargo, vain regrets and tears
The course she laid was wild and queer
Her compass was a joke
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Paul's books -- Murder to the Max -- Mafia to the Max -- Morbid to the Max -- are available at Barnes and Noble
I'd like to meet:
the stricken pebble's gunpowder reminded me of so many things. A theater, in which I must have first seen woman and what it means to see the luminous rose trees of midnight. Later, I understood, when I found her to be a dove--when I found she was sleep. Odysseus Elytis
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Paul Chmielewski--he writes great books!
Movies:
Lyric writes diaries, helped by tropical fish
Could not, would fortune grant it, name her wish
A month at least, she scorns headaches in the spring
Her fish want nothing--her fish want everything
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Check out Paul Chmielewski's Max Snow Adventures at iUniverse.com
Television:
I can almost see in the storm's whiteness
What will take over without me
Peace--always a snake--and one that bites
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Murder to the Max -- Mafia to the Max -- Morbid to the Max -- cool books
Books:
But this, as I remember, not as you remember, belongs to you and I will return it to you. Am I too hasty?
The damp wood sputters. The unbearable boredom of that game! This cannot be reduced to vanity.Our styled-up girl lacks conviction. Know this--you have no need to frown. You are destiny. You walk with granite in your eyes. The scar is just visible under your heart.
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Paul Chmielewski's books -- Murder to the Max -- Mafia to the Max -- Morbid to the Max. Can Mayhem to the Max and Mischief to the Max be far behind?
Heroes:
Side show.
A small scale surprise.
They sail like enigmatic Buddhas.
Take that one with the fur hat and the red lock of hair creeping from underneath it ... Where does she come from?
A hell of an attraction. It hums with interest.A girl, like a frost eaten violet, presses herself. Books. Ink. Paper. The black roof of a cab is glistening. The evening drenches in pigeon grey rain. He is ready. He knows his part--will drop his gloves and measure his mirrored image with one glance. And moving here and there, infuriating this girl that he does not understand ... late night ... umbrella out in the street.Starved of success and savagely hurt, she is still your revolution ...!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MAX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
