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blackandwhiteandcolours
I take pictures – I read books – Daily photos – Daily quotes
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the scrappress
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His fine hands have found each other
One day a letter reaches 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
Staring at a spot on the sidewalk
The harsh smell of lighter fluid hits my nose
Suddenly the pickup bell rings
The wild boar is very good tonight
The champagne bottle shoots out of the bucket
My brother got me my first job
The problem for those left alive …
… is what to do about revenge
Death is always thinking about me
The world outdoes them every time
He didn’t really know what scampi was
I hear you had kind of a strange halloween
I don’t know …
… but I certainly felt it
The train no longer registers on any timetables
I’m still searching for the thread
His heart, his soul melted
Clasping his hands on his stomach
Think of something else
You have to establish the horizon
Pictures are magic, as you know
Eyes mark the shape of the city
And now here they were
They were sitting so close …
… that their arms were touching
I wonder if there are dogs on Mars
Get out of my bloody way
My beach ball just floated away
Peaseblossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
Then leave him naked, wet, lost in the dark
It was a lot like an earthquake
That was sleep, not a blackout
All right then, that’s good
I used to sing in a choir
I wonder if the lion be to speak
When fishes flew and forests walked
It looked like the bottom of the sea
Walking is a whole lot better
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