Numero De Serie Nero 3.1.0.25

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.

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.

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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

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!

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.

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. "

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]

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?

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

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---->>>

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!

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]