"People have stars, but they aren't the same. For travelers, the stars are guides. For other people, they're nothing but tiny lights. And for still others, for scholars, they're problems. For my businessman, they were gold. But all those stars are silent stars. You, though, you'll have stars like nobody else."
Friday, June 29, 2007
Alice in Wonderland
Alice moving under skies
Never seen by waking eyes."
and if you go chasing rabbits, then you know you're going to fall.
I've decided not to trust words anymore. Just colours.
In between dreams
I see colours in my head.
no hues were added to the image. Just the contrast has been increased.
Labels:
alice,
colour,
through my looking glass,
waking eyes
| this is: |
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Monday, June 25, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
There's a Hole in my Bucket
" And the rain fell down
On the cold grey town
And the phone kept ringing
And we made sweet love
Everybody's dreaming
Everybody's scheming
Until the rain fall down"
The Rolling Stones
| this is: |
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Friday, June 08, 2007
Hunger
and the distance between us, I am thinking of you.
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.
This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and say
it is sad? In one of the tenses I singing
an impossible song of desire that you cannot hear.
La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine the dark hills I would
have to cross
to reach you.
and this is what it is like or what it is like in words."
The lines she gives me fit like warm socks.
In all our years all we have given each other are beautifully twisted words.
Of longing.Of lust.Of rust.
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.
This is pleasurable. Or shall I cross that out and say
it is sad? In one of the tenses I singing
an impossible song of desire that you cannot hear.
La lala la. See? I close my eyes and imagine the dark hills I would
have to cross
to reach you.
and this is what it is like or what it is like in words."
The lines she gives me fit like warm socks.
In all our years all we have given each other are beautifully twisted words.
Of longing.Of lust.Of rust.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Friday, June 01, 2007
Down by the River
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
