fallslikesnow

Tell me what youre thinking baby Your hearts beating faster than mine And I know somethings going on in your life In your life.. in your life You were the girl I wanted to cry with You were the girl I wanted to die with And you were the boy who turned into the man Broke my heart and let go off my hand Our bed is empty, the fire is out And all the love weve got to give has all spurted out Theres no more blood and no more pain In our kingdom of rain You think you know about life You think you know about love But when you put your hands inside me It doesnt even feel like Im being touched, and You were the boy I wanted to cry with You were the boy I wanted to die with Youve moved further from my side, year by year, While still making love dutifully sincere But as silent as the car lights that move across this room As cold as our bodies silhouetted by the moon And I would lie awake and wonder Is it just me or this the way love is supposed to be? Tell me what ...

AND if ever thou shalt come to this cloud and dwell and work therein as I bid thee, thee behoveth as this cloud of unknowing is above thee, betwixt thee and thy God, right so put a cloud of forgetting beneath thee; betwixt thee and all the creatures that ever be made. Thee thinketh, peradventure, that thou art full far from God because that this cloud of unknowing is betwixt thee and thy God: but surely, an it be well conceived, thou art well further from Him when thou hast no cloud of forgetting betwixt thee and all the 86 creatures that ever be made. As oft as I say, all the creatures that ever be made, as oft I mean not only the creatures themselves, but also all the works and the conditions of the same creatures. I take out not one creature, whether they be bodily creatures or ghostly, nor yet any condition or work of any creature, whether they be good or evil: but shortly to say, all should be hid under the cloud of forgetting in this case. For although it be full profitable som...

Really, absolutely extraordinary! I'm astonished at some of the stuff they have here, although it probably won't seem as amazing to you unless you're British and over 35 years old. Bagpuss! (stop motion animated kids show) Citizen Smith! (the comical misadventures of the Trotskyist Tooting Peoples Front) Sapphire and Steel! ("All irregularities will be handled by the forces controlling each dimension. Trans-uranic heavy elements may not be used where there is life.") Do yourselves a favour and download White Horses - it's beautiful. via

When I was 12 I wanted to be a real man — an old man with a beard, sitting at a table with a huge book full of wisdom. And what did society hold up to me for my admiration? A golfer, a boxer, a man who ran quickly; a soldier, a lawyer, a tycoon; a motorist, a pop star; a footballer. Into what kind of madhouse had I been born? And what have I become? A child, witlessly pouring out whatever enters my head. I am a madman and people gather to listen to me make a fool of myself. I am not a role model. This is my protection and security. I still long for the table and the book, the smell of an old man and an old book; the afternoon light fading. Ivor Cutler — from South American Bookworms. via

"[Turner’s work was] a grey picture , beautiful but true, but with no positive colour in any part of it. Constable’s ‘Waterloo’ seemed as if painted with liquid gold and silver, and Turner came several times into the room while [Constable] was heightening with vermilion and lake the decorations and flags of the city barges. Turner stood behind him looking from the ‘Waterloo’ to his own picture, and at last brought his palette from the great room where he was touching another picture, and putting a round daub of red lead, somewhat bigger than a shilling, on his grey sea, went away without saying a word. The intensity of the red lead, made more vivid by the coolness of his picture, caused even the vermilion and lake of Constable to look weak. [C.R. Leslie] came into the room just as Turner left. ‘He has been here,’ Constable said, ‘and fired a gun.’ . . . The great man did not come again into the room for a day and a half; and then, in the last moments that were allowed for paintin...

* This place is a message... and part of a system of messages... pay attention to it! * Sending this message was important to us. We considered ourselves to be a powerful culture. * This place is not a place of honor...no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here... nothing valued is here. * What is here is dangerous and repulsive to us. This message is a warning about danger. * The danger is in a particular location... it increases toward a center... the center of danger is here... of a particular size and shape, and below us. * The danger is still present, in your time, as it was in ours. * The danger is to the body, and it can kill. * The form of the danger is an emanation of energy. * The danger is unleashed only if you substantially disturb this place physically. This place is best shunned and left uninhabited.

Hey, this is Europe. We took it from nobody; we won it from the bare soil that the ice left. The bones of our ancestors, and the stones of their works, are everywhere. Our liberties were won in wars and revolutions so terrible that we do not fear our governors: they fear us. Our children giggle and eat ice-cream in the palaces of past rulers. We snap our fingers at kings. We laugh at popes. When we have built up tyrants, we have brought them down. And we have nuclear - fucking - weapons. by Ken MacCleod

The neon's and the cigarettes Rented rooms and rented cars The crowded streets, the empty bars Chimney tops and trumpets The golden lights, the loving prayers The coloured shoes, the empty trains I'm tired of crying on the stairs The downtown lights

Truth-loving Persians do not dwell upon The trivial skirmish fought near Marathon. As for the Greek theatrical tradition Which represents that summer's expedition Not as a mere reconnaisance in force By three brigades of foot and one of horse (Their left flank covered by some obsolete Light craft detached from the main Persian fleet) But as a grandiose, ill-starred attempt To conquer Greece - they treat it with contempt; And only incidentally refute Major Greek claims, by stressing what repute The Persian monarch and the Persian nation Won by this salutary demonstration: Despite a strong defence and adverse weather All arms combined magnificently together. -- Robert Graves

I have brought the great ball of crystal; ............................Who can lift it? Can you enter the great acorn of light? ..............But the beauty is not the madness Tho' my errors and wrecks lie about me. And I am not a demigod, I cannot make it cohere. (Canto 116) Ezra Pound

Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new. I, like an usurped town, to another due, Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end. Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend, But is captived, and proves weak or untrue. Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain, But am betrothed unto your enemy: Divorce me, untie or break that knot again, Take me to you, imprison me, for I, Except you enthrall me, never shall be free, Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me. John Donne,

via MeFi

Tomorrow when the farm boys find this freak of nature, they will wrap his body in newspaper and carry him to the museum. But tonight he is alive and in the north field with his mother. It is a perfect summer evening: the moon rising over the orchard, the wind in the grass. And as he stares into the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual. - Laura Gilpin via metachat

Online with illustrations here . “Just the place for a Snark! I have said it twice: That alone should encourage the crew. Just the place for a Snark! I have said it thrice: What I tell you three times is true.”” via plep

GREEN AND GREY The time I think most clearly, the time I drift away Is on the bus-ride that meanders up these valleys of green and grey I get to think about what might have been and what may yet come true And I get to pass a rainy mile thinking of you And all the while, all the while, I still hear that call To the land of gold and poison that beckons to us all Nothing changes here very much, I guess you'd say it never will The pubs are all full on Friday nights and things get started still We spent hours last week with Billy boy, bleeding, yeah queuing in Casualty Staring at those posters we used to laugh at: Never Never Land, palm trees by the sea Well there was no need for those guys to hurt him so bad When all they had to do was knock him down But no one asks to many questions like that since you left this town Ch: And tomorrow brings another train Another young brave steals away But you're the one I remember From these valleys of green and the grey Yo...

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. Samuel Beckett

Three Short Poems : 'The underground roads Are, as the dead prefer them, Always tortuous.' 'When he looked the cave in the eye, Hercules Had a moment of doubt.' 'Leaning out over The dreadful precipice, One contemptuous tree.'

Lay Your Sleeping Head, My Love W.H. Auden Lay your sleeping head, my love, Human on my faithless arm; Time and fevers burn away Individual beauty from Thoughtful children, and the grave Proves the child ephermeral: But in my arms till break of day Let the living creature lie, Mortal, guilty, but to me The entirely beautiful. Soul and body have no bounds: To lovers as they lie upon Her tolerant enchanted slope In their ordinary swoon, Grave the vision Venus sends Of supernatural sympathy, Universal love and hope; While an abstract insight wakes Among the glaciers and the rocks The hermit's sensual ecstasy. Certainty, fidelity On the stroke of midnight pass Like vibrations of a bell, And fashionable madmen raise Their pedantic boring cry: Every farthing of the cost, All the dreadful cards foretell, Shall be paid, but not from this night Not a whisper, not a thought, Not a kiss nor look be lost. Beauty, midnight, vision dies: Let the winds of dawn...