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   Friday, December 27, 2002   I fixed it, I fixed it, nah nah nah nah! 12-25-02 Christmas Raining on Christmas, Pointless emotions swirl around my head, Hate for holidays that leave only a desire, To run away, Forgotten presents next to piles of used paper, Absent relations talk with mom on the phone, Dad stands with Grandma, waiting for their turn, Brother slips off to berate the rest of us with his noisy music, I curl up in my chair, Aged leather creaks, sinks under my weight, Book in my hands, lamp by my head, Hidden by my own wish not to be seen. 10:19 AM. Wednesday, December 25, 2002   12-25-02 Rain on Christmas, Relatives who can't be here on the phone, Piles of used wrapping paper, Already forgotten presents, Curling up in my chair with a book and a CD, Good enough. This needs work, but I don't feel like putting it in. No one reads my crap anyway. 4:42 PM.