There are rules and Discopub
Start rustling,
to see the world, we
Fuck tiny trifles, and perhaps not even exist
and eventually head-shock-light-blue eyes goodbye
Fuck if the sun is red or green
and if anything falls into nothing, nothing
waterfalls, streams
nothing
primary colors and a lounge bar, if Mars is
Fuck a disco,
or if the sea is an atom wet
there are no rules for roofs and thoughts,
doors to slam out of the house, there are no rules
,
Fuck.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Motorcycle Drivers Backrest
Fallen Angels
The angels fell from heaven
I saw it on a state highway 66,
churches had ketchup
off with a pick up a carton of Bud
On a mountain to climb, I saw an angel
barricaded in backgammon
I offered him of 'grass
and he wrote me a poem
Eventually I scontrai with the wings of a
- hey fuck -
and he blurted out, eyes unmade belched
then added
- Already we are here because of you ,
at least let us keep the memory of fly-
and scratching his ass
disappeared into the street.
The angels fell from heaven
I saw it on a state highway 66,
churches had ketchup
off with a pick up a carton of Bud
On a mountain to climb, I saw an angel
barricaded in backgammon
I offered him of 'grass
and he wrote me a poem
Eventually I scontrai with the wings of a
- hey fuck -
and he blurted out, eyes unmade belched
then added
- Already we are here because of you ,
at least let us keep the memory of fly-
and scratching his ass
disappeared into the street.
Wma Plugin Modul For Nero 7 Ultra Edition
A Musical Farewell
I need my pain I need to slap my fist at God and I need him
hell and the flames
the world capitulated as the rock crumbles under
invaders of Titans Cronus
stirred up from the throne
young son of a traitor and tyrant
I need silence when all music was born
I need
hell and the flames and the pain when all the happiness conceived of the earth from her womb
fertilized by the tears of sad Odin
I need the crows and the war and revolution, the guillotine
long for the crown of the Emperor
with it since I put the chains on my wrists
of history and the keys of St. Peter
me as they melt immanent
Ephesus I need to mold my wings
my pen
I need my sword Dante and Beethoven
kneel down to ask them to stand
I want my two best
three ships, I will first
and my car next to the edge of a broken life
I need to know that I will have over the next mile bay
to dictate this symphony
my god bearded, fatherly
when I will give him a look of eyes and all this
playing a musical
say goodbye
I need my pain I need to slap my fist at God and I need him
hell and the flames
the world capitulated as the rock crumbles under
invaders of Titans Cronus
stirred up from the throne
young son of a traitor and tyrant
I need silence when all music was born
I need
hell and the flames and the pain when all the happiness conceived of the earth from her womb
fertilized by the tears of sad Odin
I need the crows and the war and revolution, the guillotine
long for the crown of the Emperor
with it since I put the chains on my wrists
of history and the keys of St. Peter
me as they melt immanent
Ephesus I need to mold my wings
my pen
I need my sword Dante and Beethoven
kneel down to ask them to stand
I want my two best
three ships, I will first
and my car next to the edge of a broken life
I need to know that I will have over the next mile bay
to dictate this symphony
my god bearded, fatherly
when I will give him a look of eyes and all this
playing a musical
say goodbye
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Woman Sitting On Stomach Men
Salmon in The Descent
Salmon
down to all the poets of the Invisible City,
salmon down
for igniting matches Russian vagabonds,
salmon down to the railings of a packed bars,
salmon
down for wrinkle-drinking gin from a lame
salmon down the slope because it is for those who are not salmon.
Now!
Salmon
down to all the poets of the Invisible City,
salmon down
for igniting matches Russian vagabonds,
salmon down to the railings of a packed bars,
salmon
down for wrinkle-drinking gin from a lame
salmon down the slope because it is for those who are not salmon.
Now!
Monday, October 27, 2008
Have I Cleaned My Emu Boot Wrong
Stewart Papier
is advanced
Mrs. scarlet eyes, smile-
dentures guncotton
hair steamed dumplings
cotonati
dress with great shoulders,
paiette as the comet,
Jesus would find in a mall.
She is the mother of all the poets of his youth
withered,
hoary white hair, mothballs
brain,
acrid smell of sterility,
too old to show her butt.
I sat behind the closet, but
without clothes,
the nice tie, nice shirt, hair
exhausted from the night before,
eyes rusty from the bottle before,
too young to sit,
One interested spectator
ask me - Excuse me, where's the toilet? -
confused chuckle and say, Benzedrine
nougat!
He looked at me stunned, I would paint
his intestines itch
of disorder and chaos, but then just
:
- On the right, straight-
The poets of cardboard
stewart gets angry with those who do not want to go to the bathroom.
is advanced
Mrs. scarlet eyes, smile-
dentures guncotton
hair steamed dumplings
cotonati
dress with great shoulders,
paiette as the comet,
Jesus would find in a mall.
She is the mother of all the poets of his youth
withered,
hoary white hair, mothballs
brain,
acrid smell of sterility,
too old to show her butt.
I sat behind the closet, but
without clothes,
the nice tie, nice shirt, hair
exhausted from the night before,
eyes rusty from the bottle before,
too young to sit,
One interested spectator
ask me - Excuse me, where's the toilet? -
confused chuckle and say, Benzedrine
nougat!
He looked at me stunned, I would paint
his intestines itch
of disorder and chaos, but then just
:
- On the right, straight-
The poets of cardboard
stewart gets angry with those who do not want to go to the bathroom.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Japanese Men And Black Women
City of Poets of the outstanding novel online RSCenciarelli
"It was a normal day, a nearly equal to all others that Alex had spent during the past year, and probably would have continued in this its ordinariness. But it was in this climate of indistinguishable similarity that Alex began to write his novel, the cause and effect of everything that would happen in the coming years, and the world around him. "
The first post will be Monday, October 27, 2008, although the blog is already open, open, complete with a preface to the novel. You will find now the link at the bottom right of the blog, under Interesting SOMETHING ONLINE.
What do we mean?
's the story of six characters: a terrorist, a student, a singer, a famous writer, a politician of absolute importance, a university janitor, which crossed their lives, seemingly different, in a rainy day like so many there are in the world. Discover for himself that everyone's life is crucial to the fate of the other and each is a city unresolved. Why
a novel online?
because the possibility of making it available to all at no cost is an attractive bet for an emerging writer who wants to create a case, rather than pocketing the royalties (although it is not that some euro in your pocket to hurt anyone) . Later I will also give a paper on the novel, if there is a following online, in hopes that what he says Coelho is also valid for others, namely: - publishing books online so that people read them, but then he Why buy a stove to keep track of the pc-screen
How will it work? Every Monday released
a new chapter of the novel, while supplies last. Every Friday we will be heading Stan Laurel's suggestions that will describe the references of the novel, but also books, songs, movies and whatever else is necessary to understand the inspiration, so as to enable the reader to penetrate the atmosphere at him most.
The company is difficult, but at the moment is a bet that has to go. City
Why unresolved?
I'll use another excerpt of the novel:
"[...] each of us is a city unresolved and do not know, until he meets another and another and understands the need to seek other cities, towns unresolved in outstanding city in search of the city resolved that all collected and dissolved. "
I hope you will be many to follow my adventure, as you have been following this blog until now.
to you and the City outstanding as always a good On The Road Is The Only Road to all.
Good reading.
http://cittairrisolte.blogspot.com/
[The Rob's]
"It was a normal day, a nearly equal to all others that Alex had spent during the past year, and probably would have continued in this its ordinariness. But it was in this climate of indistinguishable similarity that Alex began to write his novel, the cause and effect of everything that would happen in the coming years, and the world around him. "
This above is an excerpt from the book online City unresolved, Roberto Cenci (which I always do), that will begin to be published in installments on blog:
http://cittairrisolte.blogspot.com/The first post will be Monday, October 27, 2008, although the blog is already open, open, complete with a preface to the novel. You will find now the link at the bottom right of the blog, under Interesting SOMETHING ONLINE.
What do we mean?
's the story of six characters: a terrorist, a student, a singer, a famous writer, a politician of absolute importance, a university janitor, which crossed their lives, seemingly different, in a rainy day like so many there are in the world. Discover for himself that everyone's life is crucial to the fate of the other and each is a city unresolved. Why
a novel online?
because the possibility of making it available to all at no cost is an attractive bet for an emerging writer who wants to create a case, rather than pocketing the royalties (although it is not that some euro in your pocket to hurt anyone) . Later I will also give a paper on the novel, if there is a following online, in hopes that what he says Coelho is also valid for others, namely: - publishing books online so that people read them, but then he Why buy a stove to keep track of the pc-screen
How will it work? Every Monday released
a new chapter of the novel, while supplies last. Every Friday we will be heading Stan Laurel's suggestions that will describe the references of the novel, but also books, songs, movies and whatever else is necessary to understand the inspiration, so as to enable the reader to penetrate the atmosphere at him most.
The company is difficult, but at the moment is a bet that has to go. City
Why unresolved?
I'll use another excerpt of the novel:
"[...] each of us is a city unresolved and do not know, until he meets another and another and understands the need to seek other cities, towns unresolved in outstanding city in search of the city resolved that all collected and dissolved. "
I hope you will be many to follow my adventure, as you have been following this blog until now.
to you and the City outstanding as always a good On The Road Is The Only Road to all.
Good reading.
http://cittairrisolte.blogspot.com/
[The Rob's]
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Taxi Fare From Manhattan To Woodbury Outlet
you through his eyes?
Today we are talking about ... looks
Never happened to watch a person to know everything, understand everything, to understand the nuances of the iris pearly, combined with a familiar feeling, a feeling not shared, hidden, but perfectly understood the look and guess?
When there is a special bond with the other person this usually happens, whatever the type of bond. Understand each other's eyes and talk in a more straightforward and certain words.
After all the words we have invented, but his eyes were already.
be because the eyes alone said too much? We wanted to censor your eyes?
Today we are talking about ... looks
Never happened to watch a person to know everything, understand everything, to understand the nuances of the iris pearly, combined with a familiar feeling, a feeling not shared, hidden, but perfectly understood the look and guess?
When there is a special bond with the other person this usually happens, whatever the type of bond. Understand each other's eyes and talk in a more straightforward and certain words.
After all the words we have invented, but his eyes were already.
be because the eyes alone said too much? We wanted to censor your eyes?
fell when the last star,
the blind old man took a stick,
direct the dunes,
to the sound of dust in the wind,
cities destroyed by the words, the old man reached
silence ,
where the light was a cool song,
and the desert littered with moons,
in the warmth of a day amaranth,
stirred the old stick,
closed his eyes to the star in the mud,
and suddenly began to look at.
The poem is titled "The Last Man on Earth." There is a star in the mud for any man who is blind?
Remove Dry Broken Cork
Billy Eliot - I'm looking through you
Because sometimes our eyes are different, and we look through and it simply is our day to live and beat with sticks on the world of music.
I'M LOOKING THROUGH YOU
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Diy Starter Mini Bike
---->>>
I'm looking through you,
where did you go?
I thought I knew you,
what did I know?
You don't look different,
but you have changed
I'm looking through you,
you're not the same
Your lips are moving,
I cannot hear
Your voice is soothing,
but the words aren't clear
You don't sound different,
I've learned the game
I'm looking through you,
you're not the same
Why, tell me why,
did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit
of disappearing overnight
You're thinking of me,
the same old way
You were above me,
but not today
The only difference is you're down there
I'm looking through you,
and you're nowhereWhy,
tell me why,
did you not treat me right?
Love has a nasty habit
of disappearing overnight
I'm looking through you,
where did you go
I thought I knew you,
what did I know
You don't look different,
but you have changed
I'm looking through you,
you're not the same
Yeah
Oh baby I'm changed
Ah I'm looking through you
Yeah
I'm looking through you
[Lennon/McCartney]
PS: la versione cantata da The Wallflowers (ascolta sopra) a me piace di più però!
Monday, October 20, 2008
How To Kill Yourself Temazepam
Jukebox oxygen
La poesia is not an expression ...
is the time at night , sleep in the bed,
thought of what really think,
make private world public,
and this is that the poet does.
[Allen Ginsberg]
La poesia is not an expression ...
is the time at night , sleep in the bed,
thought of what really think,
make private world public,
and this is that the poet does.
[Allen Ginsberg]
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