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 28, 2002   [Poem removed] 10:05 PM. Tuesday, August 27, 2002   I seem to be posting a lot of crap lately, oh well. Comments server is back up! W00t! 8/25/02 The Last Page When the last page has turned, When the last leaf has fallen, It is nothing but a new begining, A new from ashes of old, As a phenix is reborn, so is life, Seasons, years, ages, Life gives and takes, And seldom stays the same. This is awful. I know. But I wrote it in pen in a place I can't correct, my diary. I don't want a mess of x's and circles, etc, in there. I'm a bit of a freak I admit, but I also don't want two versions of this to exsist, so it is destined to exsist in its unedited form. Unless there is something grammaticly wrong or the spelling is off. That I am willing to fix. The fact that it sucks has not escaped me, but I wrote it at midnight and very spur of the moment. Sorry if this paragraph is redundent. I'm too lazy to rewrite it to make myself sound less stupid. 11:17 PM. Monday, August 26, 2002   Broccoli Smith: Ode to a Cow Broccoli Smith: Oh Sir Cow, Broccoli Smith: How you mooo, Broccoli Smith: And every other silly thing you dooo, Broccoli Smith: Oh Sir Cow, Broccoli Smith: I really lurve you, Broccoli Smith: Without your crazy cow ways, Broccoli Smith: I'd be oh so blue, Broccoli Smith: Oh Sir Cow, Broccoli Smith: You make me glad, Broccoli Smith: Don't ever leave you silly cow, Minority 0f 1: And he has left the building. Broccoli Smith: They say your mother was a Sow (sp?) Broccoli Smith: OH SIR COW! Broccoli Smith: OH SIR COW! Broccoli Smith: OH SIR COW! Broccoli Smith: *bows* Minority 0f 1: Sir Cow? Minority 0f 1: A male cow is a bull. Broccoli Smith: *shrug* Broccoli Smith: I know. Broccoli Smith: But it sounds pretty cool. Everything not in italics is part of the "poem". *snigger* 5:55 PM.