(If it Matters) Life ran bitter on my face And mind, Dust on wind, rain on glass Wind in dead trees - Only there - Only me Blue: for her, soft summer sky me, a darker winter lie She stared through me there An empty, unfocused stare Like looking at the distant ground through a dirty window pane Or a dusty, cobwebbed screen from a grey December room I remember how it was - and is And wished
Archive for April, 2015
Tuesday –
By Jerry Connelly in Destiny's Twalay (loo)
Apr
30
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Somewhere in the Middle
By Jerry Connelly in Destiny's Twalay (loo)
Apr
30
A pendulum swing from existential to conjectural... from mind in the pants to mind in the clouds: Still Life of A Pear (as the artist remembers it) it was green, as i remember it but, not so green that it reminded me of bile or avocados but, just green enough to make me think it was a pear of the green variety. sitting there alone in the fruit bowl that made the table look too small to be suitable for taking breakfast after one's usual Friday night doings. i managed not to let my stomach lurch to the green's unsettling evocation. Re modeling Today we paint the room Not the red we were promised But a yellow we forgive It makes us feel… wish… think It must be good we paint the room with it - And we were promised the red. The Paradox of Agreement (built into the complexity of vague) he said “red” thinking of battlefield blood she heard “red” thinking of sunrise presaging a storm he: “makes me sad” she: “and uncomfortable” Watcher: “they believe they agree.” i: “It may well be true!” Watcher: “That they agree?” i: “That too.”