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A PrisonerLet us say our god’s a mad, caged king A bedlamite, a lunatic, all the phrases for a cracked head and a roaming raving mind. And if our ineffable, inscrutable lord is insane It begs the question What remains? Omnipotence is a lonely epithet A sentence of eternal tedium, the long decay of living in your own close confining mind. Let us remember the hot heavy glare of our lunatic lord Let us pity the prisoner, alone with a power that extends to the edge of his cell. Stare in the mirror and fear that our see through souls will leave us staring at glass. Nothing more. For we fear nA Prisoner
by ~Quatermain
Red Can Romanticisma can smeared cold condensation red aluminum red flowers so something else, different, soft, dying, bright with ‘natural’ colors despise the can and kiss the flowers, or barter flowers for kisses cans aren’t romantic let’s avoid the flowers and can our romanticism and watch water bead necklaces shine on a single cool can instead.Red Can Romanticism
by ~Quatermain
Prayers or Toilet Paperthis is history – norms transformed into curious antiquities so loo-rolls are scrolls, half-naked babies on plastic wrappers – gods and a jingle – ‘so so soft’ seem the sacred words and divinity’s worshipped with ass-wiping and it all slides towards memories, a fading mass. for prayers or toilet paper – suppose faith’s the same in any formPrayers or Toilet Paper
by ~Quatermain
Favourites
Too Late To Take HeedNow that your porcelain face has CRASH Hit the floorToo Late To Take Heed
And broken into so many
Pieces I can't walk without getting ten thousand splinters Do you believe me that you were too high On the shelf?
Now that your seams have RRRIP Come undone And all over this floor is Stuffing So that it's uneven under my feet Do you understand that you were too full Of yourself?
So pretty is the porcelain doll Sadly, though When their eyes roll back into their heads They're looking At nothing
by ~OpheliasFever
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: London - not really a proper city.
- Interests: Writing, rowing, occasional bouts of aggression.
- Favourite movie: I hate this; but; the usual suspects.
- Favourite band or musician: Ella Fitzgerald
- Favourite genre of music: Don't have preference...
- Favourite artist: I have no idea.
- Favourite poet or writer: Dickinson, Whitman, Basho. Dylan Thomas. Murakami. (Mieville)
- Favourite photographer: I've always liked Annie Leibovitz.
- Favourite style of art: ? (Technophobic... does it show?)
- Operating System: The evil empire itself; Windows.
- MP3 player of choice: Not really one; IPod.
- Shell of choice: Help?
- Wallpaper of choice: Urm. Flock?
- Skin of choice: I like leather?
- Favourite game: Poker.
- Favourite gaming platform: A card table.
- Favourite cartoon character: Duke (from Doonesbury)
- Personal Quote: "Lift the boat, you ^%$%%&"
- Tools of the Trade: Pen, scrap paper. Angst. Manic moods. Caffeine.
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"Not really a proper city..."
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~An Ophelia
i'll say hello to kurtz for you
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~...N'importe-quoi...~
Do that. And keep an eye out for thematic and stylistic... 'darkness'.
Enjoy the Nile. Take photos, please?
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~...N'importe-quoi...~
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~...N'importe-quoi...~
but not allowed to drink any during our meeting - bah!
it wasn't there today though, i was rather disappointed.
i think the fact that our teacher wasn't there for our lesson explains where it went!
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