A poem |
Eloisa to Abelard - Alexander Pope In these deep solitudes and awful cells,Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,And ever-musing melancholy reigns;What means this tumult in a vestal's veins?Why ...
Posted by on Tue, 14 Apr 2009 05:46:00 GMT |
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Posted by on Tue, 11 Nov 2008 05:38:00 GMT |
Long nights |
Have no fearFor when I'm aloneI'll be better off than I was beforeI've got this lightI'll be around to growWho I was beforeI cannot recallLong nights allow me to feel...I'm falling...I am fallingThe l...
Posted by on Wed, 03 Sep 2008 11:04:00 GMT |
On bended knee is no way to be free... Guaranteed |
On bended knee is no way to be freeLifting up an empty cup, I ask silentlyAll my destinations will accept the one that's meSo I can breathe...Circles they grow and they swallow people wholeHalf their ...
Posted by on Fri, 15 Feb 2008 03:31:00 GMT |
Whatever happened to the golden ball? |
Better late than never...
I'm speechless! This ain't a book, it's a masterpiece!! On love, on society, on pyramids, on reality, on a fucking packet of Camel cigarettes, on anything that's been messing...
Posted by on Fri, 28 Sep 2007 06:23:00 GMT |
Wise people have said... |
*** I'm thirty... I'm five years too old to lie to myself and call it honor - Nick Carraway (from The Great Gatsby)
*** I'm quietly judging you - Frank T.J. Mackey (from Magnolia)
*** May your min...
Posted by on Mon, 24 Sep 2007 13:03:00 GMT |
