andwhatnewthrilldoesthisonebring

And what new thrill does this one bring

With legs astride and eyes aglow;

How many praises can one sing

Of something someone cannot know?

flight of fancy

And so continues our flight of fancy

Feigned romance elated dancing

Waltzing under rose-tinted spotlight

tock the clocks but time is not right

twist and swing like metronomes

beat slows down and even though

disaccord and inconvenience

plague this ghostly white dream sequence

concrete confines couldn’t stop me

for the beat and you still rock me

-

"You'd better get busy, though, buddy. The goddam sands run out on you every time you turn around. I know what I'm talking about. You're lucky if you get time to sneeze in this goddam phenomenal world."

-

-

--Franny and Zooey, J.D. Salinger

-

verging

On the verge

verging on

urging on

sleep but

slurring thoughts, blurring dots

converging so deep in eyes,

thinking hovering why,

love lovering ties

parallel so as never to meet.

A

cheap way of sinning

Ego bubbling brimming

Spilling over and slopping

But too great for stopping,

For separate lies

Make for cruel compromise

And love never dies

When it’s played on repeat.

It's a dangerous game, forseeing the future;
it's almost always never true.
To think that life is a product of fate
is to be tremendously fooled.
It's a dangerous game, foreseeing the future;
it's almost always never true.
If you have to believe in something,
Believe in you.

No Smoking

It is such a drag

Not going for a fag,

especially during the nighttime.

.

It makes me feel antsy,

Cos all that I fancy's

Some quality Marlboro Light time.

A handful of trinket-y and precious literary quotes

"She loved Lords; she loved youth, and Nancy, dressed at enormous expense by the greatest artists in Paris, stood there looking as if her body had merely put forth, of its own accord, a green frill." --Mrs. Dalloway Virginia Woolf

.

.

.

" 'At any rate, let us love for a while, for a year or so, you and me. That's a form of divine drunkenness that we can all try. There are only diamonds in the whole world, diamonds and perhaps the shabby gift of disillusion. Well, I have that last and I will make the usual nothing of it.' He shivered. 'Turn up your coat collar, little girl, the night's full of chill and you'll get pneumonia. His was a great sin who first invented consciousness. Let us lose it for a few hours.' " --Diamond as Big as the Ritz F. Scott Fitzgerald

.

.

.

"(i do not know what it is about you that closes

and opens; only something in me understands

the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)

nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands"

-somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond e. e. cummings

.

.

.