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Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing wax -- Of cabbages -- and kings -- And why the sea is boiling hot -- And whether pigs have wings.
About Me
- Falstaff
- Minneapolis, MN
- GB$(GL) d- s+:++ a C W+(++) w PS++ PE--(++) !tv b++++ DI++++ m++++ e++++ h+ r* z-->---
Blog Archive
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2009
(221)
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May
(34)
- A fanatic
- The Apocalypse
- Betraying Chopin
- On Cowardice
- Allegro Marcato
- Heartbreak - 1
- Hope
- A blurring of lines
- The search for transcendence
- Concentric Paths
- One Downsmanship
- The loneliest thing in the world
- Interpretation
- Coincidence
- Laugh about it, shout about it
- An embarassment of Rich
- Cause of death
- Cheating
- Prejudice
- The Game
- Troubling allure
- A beacon from Troy
- Everyday
- Suspicion
- Ashvamedh
- The Basics
- Confession
- Il Viaggio a Reims
- What's in a name?
- On Love Poetry
- Lean on me
- Notes on echo
- Life: Third Degree
- Marguerite
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May
(34)
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Method to the Madness
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E-mail:
specktre@gmail.com
4 comments:
...or a blade of grass in the middle of the desert.
nope. wall tops that. old, stubborn defiance against nothing which matters anymore.
...yeap, an wall still standing by itself.When all that was alike gave up and fell and became one with the ground...
Much lonelier than a crumbling wall, one that's abandoned its pride and cuddled back close to the earth for companionship.
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