Dear Vachel,  Let the Bread's Rhyme



I am longing for disturbing evening

Miserable floating in regardless owl weeping

Lost boy with lost path

Dying in the hands of wrath


I am longing for Your existance

But no one comes over

Except you the lost one like me

You're not Imogen

The one I need most.


Et ego petrarca in lingua vetera scribo

Selected Poems 1999 - 2002


Tuesday, September 20, 2011

No Retreat No Surrender



One, Two and Three
Four, Five, Six and Seven and Eight
and everything keep coming in

Door's Open
and nothing holding you all back
Let It In or Let It Out

I'm afraid most
God and His Thundering Sound

If there are
One, Two and Three
Four, Five, Six and Seven and Eight
and everything keep coming in

and everything will comes out
I shall let
Door's Open.



Semiotica Office 17:55 PM

di

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Amazing Works

Romance

Romance, who loves to nod and sing
With drowsy head and folded wing
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been—most familiar bird—
Taught me my alphabet to say,
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child—with a most knowing eye.

Of late, eternal condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky;
And when an hour with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings,
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away—forbidden things—
My heart would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.

- Edgar Allan Poe

Friend Surrounding