Worn expression in new costume
Someone said that we should live like every day was the last day of our life.
But think...
... if we instead lived like every day was the first.
My love (love poem)
my love
use wings
over the sea
arises
above all
mighty
reaches
to touch your being
not asking
demanding
suffocating
wanting anything
at all
pure love
joyfully given
gentle
vitally strong
strokes
your eyebrow
bites
your ear lobe
ruffles
your hair
on your chest
blows
in your belly button
my love
laughs
coo down in throat
teasing
feel that gentle wind?
that's
My kiss
---
Not a happy day
Uuufff... feeling not happy... and it's one of those days you can't tell what is wrong, course there's nothing wrong with anything. Screwed for creation, frustrated damned it.
Random P.G. Wodhouse quotes
- The Right Hon. was a tubby little chap who looked as if he had been poured into his clothes and had forgotton to say 'When'!
~ o ~
- Proceed, old gargoyle ... you have our ear.
~ o ~
- I just sit at the typewriter and curse a bit.
in Collier's 31 August 1956@%: On his writing technique.
~ o ~
Soultone
when
the voiceless voice
sing
the limbless body
dance
nor angles
nor demons
belong the wind
as carrier of tone
let cry
let laughter
unmeasurable
is the power of
Love
beyond earth
beyond heaven
soul arising
and touching
me
~ o ~
Pirjo Zeylon (c) 2007
A letter
| Dear friend, |
What's the greatest compliment someone could give you?
That would be a compliment!
Some more Wodehouse quotes (love em')
* He had the look of one who had drunk the cup of life, and found a dead beetle at the bottom.
* Introduced to his child in the nursing home, he recoiled with a startled ``Oi!'' and as the days went by the feeling that he had run up against something red-hot in no way diminished. The only thing that prevented a father's love from faltering was the fact that there was in his possession a photograph of himself at the same early age, in which he, too, looked like a homicidal fried egg.
* The lunches of fifty-seven years had caused his chest to slip down to the mezzanine floor.
* Mine is a refined and poetic nature. I like to be surrounded by joy and life, and I know nothing more joyless and deader than a dead fish.
* He was either a man of about a hundred and fifty who was rather young for his years or a man of about a hundred and ten who had been aged by trouble.
* His manner had nothing in it of the jolly innkeeper of old-fashioned comic opera. He looked more like Macbeth seeing a couple of Banquos.
* His whole attitude recalled irresistibly to the mind that of some assiduous hound who will persist in laying a dead rat on the drawing-room carpet, though repeatedly apprised by word and gesture that the market for same is sluggish or even non-existent.
Unforgettable
So many views
all to many people
lovers, beloved
those once
unforgettabled
lost
forgotten
from another season
last year's vintage
allready eaten
finnished

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