yeah, so upon waking from my nap all of 12 minutes ago i’ve decided it’d be a very good idea to see a movie. i think i am off to partake in “life is a house.” before i do that, i must put on some pants and brush my hair. i hope it’s good. i hope it makes me cry. i am in the mood for a good cry movie and all that nonsense.
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you are a clod
covered with dirt
rolled in a heap of dust
you are weak
you are wallowing in
shallow emotions
you are a fool
a schoolboy
who still holds
that foolish belief
you are stupid
who believes that
you can change the world
you dont take things
as given
you are vain
your face shows the
opposite of your shell
you only want youth and beauty
you are a poet
you think that your pen
writes your emotions
your world is too dark
for you to throw light
on your paper sheet
your a writer
you write your complicated
world,a very tragic world
you dwell in your dark thoughts
you try to live the day
a hell like existence
what am I?
I am never
said in words
for I am me
and me is
unique to any
description.
another
lol :> my you… a clod?
my tripod isnt working today so here i am throwing my works to your face.Utopian fantasy
a sweet nightingale’s song
verdant valleys
wild flowers
flourishing trees
bunch of apples
beautiful pixies
pink and yerllow
flying ,reveling
serene river
calm waves
utopian fantasy for
you
a drumbeat of distraction
stolid glen
and parched earth
skeleton of trees
a molded trtees
withered flowers
baron thieves
and lawless pawns
pillaging and burning
swarming
flies and mice
on dead bodies
of hapless men
and gothic children
flooding and overflowing
river of styx
surrounding Hades
a crowded garden
a gulf of flasme
on the bottom
calamitous reality
on the surface
utopian fantasy for you
spontaneous distraction for me
this site is cute
it saves me from paranoia.
just like utopia
which is a fog of stupidity
well i dont get it…call me dumb.
but are my comments posted on the main page?
you could laugh now and call me dumbo…anyway thanks for having someone to talk to even if you are not responding ….
you said
“trust me”
ok, i trusted you
just like a trust
condom you would be
but Trust
condoms have holes in it
so all the
milk of deceit
and white of the
blacxkest lies
came pouring in
impregnating the sac
with the baby of lies
lies of life
breaths with in
pulse of lies
beats within
that baby you cant deny!
coz its there
living
and
haunting your life
i just sent you a content of my page..
http://scythianstyx.tripod.com/paragonofdelusion/
what do you think ? am i going crazy?
see iam fancying you as my bride…
The Bride
You are regal tonight
my pride
you look as if i am
in a heavenly trance
your yellow tresses
cascading soflty
by your side
the elegant gown
perfectly done
the laceyfolds
and the silky sheen
compliments your skin
you are beautiful
tonight my love
you appear as if
i am in an ecstatic seance
your eyes
smiles
your cheeks
blushing pink
and so fine
your lips
so sweet
and a pout
I wonder how did
they ever made you so
regal
beautiful…
My bride
its our wedding tonight
can you hear
the song that fills the air?
can you see
the candles that lightsa the space
can you smell
the fragrant floweresa?
I love you my bride
wait till i join your soide
and i will take you to
]the purple aisle
but first let
me break into the glass
that is a wall
between us.
bride.
i am searching for unnamed poets in yaho.
maybe you should try and click the sanctuary its great.http://www.darkshadows.org/~skyhawk/
bye…..ia m now taking my leave…thanks for the company.. a one sied company anyway pls. v isit my site and click icy dale for prose and tell me what you think
it is on its way to finishing school
i am still here….not dead …not bleeding … crazy me…2t i am going to die…and suicide is painful…hahahaha…….a serious…nutcase…me….
an article for you
Prologue :: Poems :: Rants :: Revelations :: Pictures :: Downloads :: Epilogue
I just read an article written by Ann Coulter. I was told that she got
fired after this article, and I’m not surprised. She was a “syndicated
columnist” (as she would like to label herself) of the Universal Press
Syndicate, as well as the Contributed Editor of National Review Online.
The article is probably still available on the NRO website.
A rather interesting article, I must say — a good example of extreme
hatred blended with ignorance. The most intriguing quote for me would
probably be, “We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and
convert them to Christianity.”
Anyway, without further delay — the content (or whatever you’d like to
call this junk) is here. The heading is “This Is War”, with a little
line below that reads, “We should invade their countries.”
The article:
Barbara Olson kept her cool. In the hysteria and terror of hijackers
herding passengers to the rear of the plane, she retrieved her cell phone
and called her husband, Ted, the solicitor general of the United States.
She informed him that he had better call the FBI — the plane had been
hijacked. According to reports, Barbara was still on the phone with Ted
when her plane plunged in a fiery explosion directly into the Pentagon.
Barbara risked having her neck slit to warn the country of a terrorist
attack. She was a patriot to the very end.
This is not to engage in the media’s typical hallucinatory overstatement
about anyone who is the victim of a horrible tragedy. The furtive cell
phone call was an act of incredible daring and panache. If it were not,
we’d be hearing reports of a hundred more cell phone calls. (Even people
who swear to hate cell phones carry them for commercial air travel.)
The last time I saw Barbara in person was about three weeks ago. She
generously praised one of my recent columns and told me I had really
found my niche. Ted, she said, had taken to reading my columns aloud to
her over breakfast.
I mention that to say three things about Barbara. First, she was really
nice. A lot of people on TV seem nice, but aren’t. (And some who don’t
seem nice, are.) But Barbara was always her charming, graceful,
vebullient self. “Nice” is an amazingly rare quality among writers. In
the opinion business, bitter, jealous hatred is the norm. Barbara had
reason to be secure.
Second, it was actually easy to imagine Ted reading political columns
aloud to Barbara at the breakfast table. Theirs was a relationship that
could only be cheaply imitated by Bill and Hillary — the latter being a
subject of Barbara’s appropriately biting bestseller, Hell to Pay.
Hillary claimed preposterously in the Talk magazine interview that she
discussed policy with Bill while cutting his grapefruit in the morning.
Ted and Barbara really did talk politics — and really did have breakfast
together.
It’s “Ted and Barbara” just like it’s Fred and Ginger, and George and
Gracie. They were so perfect together, so obvious, that their friends
were as happy they were on their wedding day. This is more than the
death of a great person and patriotic American. It’s a human amputation.
Third, since Barbara’s compliment, I’ve been writing my columns for Ted
and Barbara. I’m always writing to someone in my head. Now I don’t know
who to write to. Ted-and-Barbara were a good muse.
Apart from hearing that this beautiful light has been extinguished from
the world, only one other news flash broke beyond the numbingly
omnipresent horror of the entire day. That evening, CNN reported that
bombs were dropping in Afghanistan — and then updated the report to say
they weren’t our bombs.
They should have been ours. I want them to be ours.
This is no time to be precious about locating the exact individuals
directly involved in this particular terrorist attack. Those responsible
include anyone anywhere in the world who smiled in response to the
annihilation of patriots like Barbara Olson.
We don’t need long investigations of the forensic evidence to determine
with scientific accuracy the person or persons who ordered this specific
attack. We don’t need an “international coalition.” We don’t need a
study on “terrorism.” We certainly didn’t need a congressional
resolution condemning the attack this week.
The nation has been invaded by a fanatical, murderous cult. And we
welcome them. We are so good and so pure we would never engage in
discriminatory racial or “religious” profiling.
People who want our country destroyed live here, work for our airlines,
and are submitted to the exact same airport shakedown as a lumberman from
Idaho. This would be like having the Wehrmacht immigrate to America and
work for our airlines during World War II. Except the Wehrmacht was not
so bloodthirsty.
“All of our lives” don’t need to change, as they keep prattling on TV.
Every single time there is a terrorist attack — or a plane crashes
because of pilot error — Americans allow their rights to be contracted
for no purpose whatsoever.
The airport kabuki theater of magnetometers, asinine questions about
whether passengers “packed their own bags,” and the hostile, lumpen
mesomorphs ripping open our luggage somehow allowed over a dozen armed
hijackers to board four American planes almost simultaneously on Bloody
Tuesday. (Did those fabulous security procedures stop a single hijacker
anyplace in America that day?)
Airports scrupulously apply the same laughably ineffective airport
harassment to Suzy Chapstick as to Muslim hijackers. It is preposterous
to assume every passenger is a potential crazed homicidal maniac. We
know who the homicidal maniacs are. They are the ones cheering and
dancing right now.
We should invade their countries, kill their leaders and convert them to
Christianity. We weren’t punctilious about locating and punishing only
Hitler and his top officers. We carpet-bombed German cities; we killed
civilians. That’s war. And this is war.
::
yeah, so this was really kind of cool.
Your love is like chicken
it’s finger licken
I wanna be sticken
My heart to you.
-haiku #B