“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label hell in a hand basket. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hell in a hand basket. Show all posts
Sunday, April 5, 2020
Hades hand-basket
One basket for All
Eggs, incubating too much
heat with Entropy
And it could happen,
And it did
Worse than we
Suspected it
Could
Do-
No more
Harm or foulness
than the
Fear hath
Undone.
Painting by Alice Pike Barney (1857-1931), 'Girl with basket' c. 1888 in Public domain.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Half-dozen Mud cakes
Back to wood decks, quarter-size spiders, webs, moss and creatures stirring in the hollow nights Back to no side-walks and skirting into th...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
I have served between eight and twenty-five thousand meals for my family, I make coffee for them more than once per day, equatin...
-
Lies About Love by D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930) We are all liars, because the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow, wherea...