1270 0 0
|
VIII. Towards Affinities, Beyond My love, since I saw you last, since before we reached the chamber, I cannot count the quasars which have passed, but there still gleams Time, Like a memory of a lost event unwitnessed, and this illusion Carried…
|
127044
|
This is the hole I fell in. I can sort of crawl out of it now, but I must have fallen fastasleep in there. Does it really matter if it was for a long or a short time? Everyone is suddenly gone like a smile and replaced lately by sadly different versions…
|
1270118
|
|
127056
|
so much of what we know with certainty is amazingly uncertain
|
127052
|
What don't they all do for us?They absorb, eliminate negative feelings and make you smile. To just name a few ... They make you sane, how insane it may seem from a certain point of view.But let me tell you this: I'm 1300 kms away from my family. I don't care much about…
|
127000
|
We never meant to gain their confidence only to outgrow them. They were once our best friends, the ones who listened, the ones who understood or sat across from us so we could see them nod. They leaned…
|
1270238
|
but all I can give them now are air hugs
|
127043
|
The boy wasn’t raised this way.
|
127020
|
I thought that was the last day of the world (when I floated up near your ceiling,) but it was the first. I thought I had seen the worst. But that was nothing. I know you had no idea what was coming when I first met you. But when we looked in each other
|
127000
|
This was supposed to be a love letter written by a content writer, then it just got weird.
|
126975
|
|
126900
|
Waves like lovers gather and crest, crash into
White uncertainty.
|
126911
|
She felt the ants crawling across her arms, felt them digging into her flesh. The needle was still attached to her flesh, bruises lined along the stretch of skin. Her body convulsed until she slipped into slumber. The following morning she could no longer continue her self…
|
126953
|
Hey Sledge!
Yo.
Did you know Socrates hated the idea of writing thoughts down? He said it weakened the memory…made us lazy.
Say wha?
That's why he never wrote a book. The only way we know about him is through his student Plato's writing. St
|
1269139
|
|
126900
|
As Zoë says, “You and your musician friends drink in industrial quantities.”
|
126900
|
Transhumanism has always had its malcontents usually derived from some philosophic contestation, but for all their thought experiments, somehow my present situation eluded them.
|
126900
|
the lazy leaves of a parlour palm finger
lavender in a wine bottle.
|
126954
|
My father is the kind of man to shout at you /
just because you took the wrong road /
at least the road that he’s not used to...
|
126965
|
You better read the papers
If you don’t understand
Cause as of last night
I’m a one-man band
You’d better walk through water
With your boots on fire
Cause Baby I don’t think
I can take this any higher
You’d better find out what I dr
|
126831
|
|
126822
|
He who is well hydrated, won't sweat you
|
126831
|
Dutton felt thwarted in his literary career, producing only the classic "Here I sit all broken-hearted, paid a nickel to crap and only farted" in a locker room stall at halftime of the 1963 Weedwacker Bowl.
|
126822
|
By the basement washtubs, I watched him skin a squirrel:
|
126897
|
I'm writing you this letter played on a cherry flute. I'm sending it along through the poem's cloud of incense. The only delivery system I still hitch up for long distance pitching. I'm writing you a letter you'll probably never read. Never…
|
126844
|
I rang the doorbell. Claire opened the door, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. I opened my arms to give her a big hug. She stiffened and pulled away. Stunned, my lips parted, but I couldn’t think of a single word to say.
Ideal, Phillis. ”Broken”, Pure
|
126810
|
They say nothing, but instead watch the birds and people hovering. Every day is an echo of the one before, and the weight of waiting has begun to show itself in the stature of the tiny man and his little old wife. …
|
126800
|
“How about licensed-character theme funerals for kids who die young?” I asked, broaching a sensitive subject. “Do you think they’re”–I hesitated–”a money maker?”
|
126810
|
Mr. Townsend is a normal guy. He's been on auto pilot a while. When he finally snaps out of it, he's surprised at what he finds.
|
126865
|
“Tell me how sad they are.”
|
