Painting By Félix Armand Heullant (1834–1905) (Düsseldorfer Auktionshaus) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
“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 long form. Show all posts
Showing posts with label long form. Show all posts
Saturday, October 29, 2016
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Perdue
Yet from far away you catch someone's eye like a tiny ripple you feel, eventually. It reminds you about touch and the permeable skin wr...
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A year ago this May, in fact, upon this same very grey day- something came over me I found could say, in no other way but to portray, ...
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Natures touch is both gentle and fierce. Homo sapiens trample on her back. The thick skin impossible to pierce. So...
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Failure is all the rage these days. I have been practicing, and I understand the rage. Someone said that melancholy is tragedy handled well....
