Illusions because you see, they really are terrible. Also, I like the word illusion. ILLUSION! "The object of art is to stir the most divine and remote chords which make music in our soul. Man is hungry for beauty. There is a void. We spend our days looking for the secret of life. Well, the secret of life is in art." -Oscar Wilde "A poet is someone who is astonished by everything." -Anon.   Archives << current   More quotes: "Draw a crazy picture, Write a nutty poem, Sing a mumble-gumble song, Whistle through your comb. Do a loony-goony dance 'Cross the kitchen floor, Put something silly in the world That ain't been there before." -Shel Silverstein "The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep." -Robert Frost, Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening "'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,' -- that is all Ye know on Earth, and all ye need to know." -John Keats, Ode On A Grecian Urn "Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow-- You are not wrong who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream." -Edgar Allan Poe, A Dream Within A Dream "You see things as they are and ask, 'Why?' I dream things as they never were and ask, 'Why not?'" -George Bernard Shaw "If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain." -Emily Dickinson "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad." -Aldous Huxley "Some authors should be paid by the quantity NOT written." -Anon. MORE AT SOME POINT...MAYBE :-)!

Illusions of Poetry   Monday, April 15, 2002   Ahhh! A poem. I think it speaks for it's self, so I'll shut up. Not So Nice I�m just a person, No better, Maybe worse, I�ll cry with you, Laugh with you, But really, Can you say, You know me? Truly know me, Do you know me in, Anger? Sorrow? Complete despair? I am not nice, I am not, I am. 7:55 PM.   Okay, so there's been nothing for a while. Reason? Be-uuuuuuu-tif-al weather. The muses and I have been soaking up the rays, whilst we read under my front yard tree. Needless to say, we're a bit lazy. They aren't feeling up to attempting any form creativity, so in lue (sp?) of a new poem: *sings* Jesus loves me this I know, For the Bible tells me so, Little ones to him belong, They are weak but he is strong, Chorus: Yes! Jesus loves me, Yes! Jesus loves me, Yes! Jesus loves me, The Bible tells me so, Jesus loves me this I know, As he loved so long ago, Taking children on his knee, Saying let them come to me, Chorus (repeat as necessary to occupy small children, or me.....) Of course unless you've seen me do the hand motions for this, you really haven't yet lived... 6:20 PM.