Leaning Into The Afternoons Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets towards your oceanic eyes. There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames, its arms turning like a drowning man's. I send out red signals across your absent eyes that smell like the sea or the beach by a lighthouse.
You keep only darkness, my distant female, from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges. Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets to that sea that is thrashed by your oceanic eyes. The birds of night peck at the first stars that flash like my soul when I love you. The night gallops on its shadowy mare shedding blue tassels over the land.
Pablo said that. ~.~ And here goes another trip around Sol, best.
Rainy Night ~Dorothy Parker
Ghosts of all my lovely sins, Who attend too well my pillow, Gay the wanton rain begins; Hide the limp and tearful willow.
Turn aside your eyes and ears, Trail away your robes of sorrow, You shall have my further years- You shall walk with me tomorrow.
I am sister to the rain; Fey and sudden and unholy, Petulant at the windowpane, Quickly lost, remembered slowly.
I have lived with shades, a shade; I am hung with graveyard flowers. Let me be tonight arrayed In the silver of the showers.
Every fragile thing shall rust; When another April passes I may be a furry dust, Sifting through the brittle grasses.
All sweet sins shall be forgot; Who will live to tell their siring? Hear me now, nor let me rot Wistful still, and still aspiring.
Ghosts of dear temptations, heed; I am frail, be you forgiving. See you not that I have need To be living with the living?
Sail, tonight, the Styx's breast; Glide among the dim processions Of the exquisite unblest, Spirits of my shared transgressions,
Roam with young Persephone. Plucking poppies for your slumber . . . With the morrow, there shall be One more wraith among your number.
(that was too blue for me) so...... some Rodney :
I told my wife the truth. I told her I was seeing a psychiatrist. Then she told me the truth: that she was seeing a psychiatrist, two plumbers, and a bartender. Yeah, I know I'm ugly... I said to a bartender, 'Make me a zombie.' He said 'God beat me to it.'
I was so ugly my mother used to feed me with a sling shot.
My childhood was rough. Once for my birthday, my old man gave me a bat. The first day I played with it, it flew away. |