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   Wednesday, August 21, 2002   7/29/02 Blue and Crimson Red Blue tears cascade down, From blue eyes, Trying so hard to keep it all together, Funny how it all keeps falling apart, Crimson red blood seeps out, On to pre-stained crimson red tiles, She can't remember the reasons, That's how she knows it's deep enough, Blue rain pounds down, Into a stormy blue ocean of hurt, Blue sky and sea all a part of, This crimson red night. It took a long time to get this right, and I'm not sure how I feet about it . First paragraph--autobigraphical, rest--just me getting all my feelings out. Nothing to worry about folks. 12:07 AM. Tuesday, August 20, 2002   Okay. No one's on waiting to see if I really will post something new before midnight. So screw it all. I'm just posting this. 8/13/02 Summertime summertime, my mind is fried, like an egg on the sidewalk, sunnyside up anyone? Composed on my magnetic poetry calendar. Two others unblogged from the poetry 9 calendar to look for. But not unless people give me beautiful reviews of how lovely I am, because I'm feeling tempermental. 11:03 PM. Sunday, August 18, 2002   I know it's been a long time, but I've hit a rut and I don't think what I have of the 3 poems I'm working on is worth putting up here, I may dredge up some old stuff just so there'll be something new (to you any way.) But er, just know I'm working and stuff...*relizes she sounds pathetic, ends the blog* 10:49 PM.