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Melt There was an ephemeral glow as the sun surrendered to the snow that evening, as though it had decided to give one final show as it left. The light spread across the countryside painting the tips of trees as it soared over whitewashed landscapes. It swept dangorously over cliffs and scoured the landscape disperseing at the far corners of the hoforizen. Everything I saw was the sun and the sun was in everything. It ended in an embelished display of orange, and purple, and yellow. Playing tricks on the clouds before becoming pure clear light, then it was gone, but so was thMelt
by ~stjimmythe4th
Old Tennis Shoes A face in a diner, a stubble covered face, a sullen look, an unwashed smell: some men, they say, can't much stay put. That's what they say "some men," an oddity, a break from the homogenous mixture of mens' thoughts. That man you see on the side of the road at night, marching to a broken drum. His steps, however are at a familiar tempo, a rhythm you've beaten out before: the heart of man is made to run. Yes, we a ll feel it, the urge to just stop. Drop everything. Walk. Stalk. Smile. Hum. StaOld Tennis Shoes
by ~stjimmythe4th
Dear, Elizebeth I am undertaken with unpleasantness as I sit to write this letter. You see, my dear, I have a feeling my words will be taken the wrong way, it is therefore pertinant that you try to keep an open mind as you read this letter.Dear, Elizebeth
It is unfortunate that I must inform you, though I must indeed, that I have been lieing to you. Yes my dear, my deception has become a blight on the otherwise golden pillar of perfection that I am. I have, with some misgivings mind you, been lieing to you about whether I was truely a liar or not. Alas, it is hard to ba
by ~stjimmythe4th
Favourites
Don Quixoteby ~zhuzhu
Abandoned HousesGlimpsed before they were salted with dusk, each like a deserted scene from Chernobyl or Three-Mile Island: breakfast tables abandoned, family photos left behind, jackets still hanging on the backs of chairs.Abandoned Houses
Cutlery slowly fossilising, turning the colour
of anchovies. Their undissovable memories
chirp like Geiger counters when the street
is silent, unspooling household wiring.
Sometimes you might see patches
of dandelions in the front gardens bend,
as if in the presence of breath.
by ~Tigermoth99
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Devious Info
- Interests: Music, Writing, Philosophy, Politics, Satire
- Favourite movie: Montey python and the Holy Grail, Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Ocean's 11/13, The Dark Knig
- Favourite band or musician: Stevie ray vaughn,- RUSH-, Blues Brothers, Dave Matthews Band, Boston, Collective soul, led zeplin..
- Favourite genre of music: Jazz, Rock, things that sound good
- Favourite poet or writer: Orson Scott Card, Mark Twains up there
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