Skip to content
Skip to content

blackandwhiteandcolours

I take pictures – I read books – Daily photos – Daily quotes

  • about
  • the scrappress
  • books
  • Portfolio
It must be around midnight when the sharks come
I’d rather stub out cigarettes on my tongue than go shopping
OHOE OEYN KBTJ
This word, devoid of context, could mean almost anything
The rhythm of the conversation is abruptly lost
There was perfect silence from the other men
A woman is standing behind him
Ask questions that will be exceedingly difficult to answer
A spark pops across the contacts like a firecracker
Everything is silent except for the surf
Any thought that this was just a joke evaporated
A night train from Birmingham blows through
My family’s done a lot of traveling around
On the walls, diverse oil paintings
A massive, blocky modern sculpture sits over the door
Turing figured out something entirely different
Later they emerge from the clouds again
Riemann Zeta function again. That thing pops up everywhere
Don’t talk to the Dentist. Ever. Not about anything
I guess I am just shy, or something
The people come awake and begin to burn coal
Now he is thinking of shaving his beard off
How far are we from Manila?
But he didn’t know who Kafka was
A bamboo grove, all chopped down
I said that in my youth I had been a rebel
I have a mission of immense importance
I am an artist of the unobserved life
Better to be a salamander and live in the flames
Hotel rooms are not sanctuaries
Why don’t you tell me all about it?
His fine hands have found each other
Yes, tonight it is arranged that I will be morose
I steal the bicycles, you bring the whisky
He likes his monthly pay cheque and …
… pottering down the corridor for a coffee …
… and a natter in the canteen
He even likes the suit he has to wear
One day a letter reaches him
Relationships must deepen or die
He has a home …
… he has a friend …
… both new concepts to him
Strips of dew hover over the palace lawns
Few possessions survive so many moves
All boys were bad crooks
Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold
Thou hast no speculation in those eyes
Which thou dost glare with
Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day
« Previous Page — Next Page »

← Newer posts
Older posts →

© 2026 MARTINA AT BWC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.