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.::Domizia::. - Male 25
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♪ Genesis - Entangled - In Concert 1976 ♪
When you're asleep they may show you
Aerial views of the ground
Freudian slumber empty of sound
Over the rooftops and houses
Lost as it tries to be seen
Fields of incentive covered with green
Mesmerised children are playing
Meant to be seen but not heard
"Stop me from dreaming!"
"Don't be absurd!"
"Well if we can help you we will
You're looking tired and ill
As I count backwards
Your eyes become heavier still
Sleep, won't you allow yourself fall
Nothing can hurt you at all
With your consent
I can experiment further still."
Madrigal music is playing
Voices can faintly be heard
"Please leave this patient undisturbed."
Sentenced to drift far away now
Nothing is quite what it seems
Sometimes entangled in your own dreams
"Well, if we can help you we will
Soon as you're tired and ill
With your consent
We can experiment further still
Well, thanks to our kindness and skill
You'll have no trouble until
You catch your breath
And the nurse will present you the bill!"
What a difference a Year Makes
This was December 2019 , commuting in the dark and seeing the dawn rising . as the LUAS tram passed over the M50 motorway. I have been Working From Home . since late February , this year has gone in a blur of unexpected events and lots and lots of isolation. I don't know how I feel about commuting anymore. It seems like something from a bizarre Sci-fi film now :)
We are good at adapting !
IMG_3654WB4C9
Everyone's so soft, everyone's so sensitive
Do I offend you? You're hanging on my sentences
You can keep your costume and you can keep your mask
I'ma take a bow so you can kiss my ass
I never signed up for your drama club.
The sentence "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose." was written by Gertrude Stein as part of the 1913 poem Sacred Emily, which appeared in the 1922 book Geography and Plays.
Many thanks to everyone who chooses to leave a comment or
who adds this image to their favorites, it is much appreciated.
Kind regards,
Cor
Every wave is a memory returning.
This black and white seascape captures the ocean mid-whisper, foam curling, cresting, reaching for a shore it’s touched a thousand times before. The horizon stands distant and dark, like a lover who left but never truly disappeared. There’s motion here, but also stillness. A rhythm of longing. A pulse of remembrance.
The sea doesn’t forget. It carries every echo, every goodbye, every promise made beneath a fading sky. The waves roll in like unfinished sentences, like letters never sent. And the foam, bright against the dark water is the punctuation of emotion, the breath between heartbeats.
This image is for those who’ve stood at the edge of something vast and felt both small and infinite. It’s for the ones who wait, who remember, who believe that love, like the tide always finds its way back.
My latest photography is now available for purchase at crsimages.pixels.com/, featuring prints, framed art, and more from my curated collections.
"If Claret is the king of natural wines, Burgundy is the queen."
- Moliere
"An aged Burgundy runs with a beardless Port.
I cherish the fancy that Port speaks sentences of wisdom,
Burgundy sings the inspired Ode."
- Ambrose Bierce
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Thanks to all for 9,000.000+ views and kind comments ... !
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Turning the pages a sentence caught her eyes. “A dream is a wish your heart makes”. Perhaps there was truth in those words. She had dreamed of a different life. A life with love. Surprising and unexpected love came. Time had been tough and lonely, she thought. The change was most welcoming and very invigorating.
She had felt so happy. He was a kind and charming man. Rapidly her love for him grew stronger. Every day she had longed for him like A DRIED OUT FLOWER. She had needed him like a flower needs water. So easily he had filled her heart and soul with love, hopes and dreams. She hesitated. Stop! Don't start winding yourself up. He's gone, she reminded herself. As unexpected as he came.
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she sadly realized, that she had never found the true path to his heart. Now she knew, there was no need for searching any longer. He would remain an utterly priceless treasure. In time, she hoped, the memory would be without pain. I miss you, she sighed. No, I've to forget about him, she muttered. Still she could feel him and the bond between them. She wished it would be different, but he would always be a part of her, unfortunately she knew that for a fact. Perhaps it was time for new dreams.
Just for fun -- seeing the line up of flowers in various stages seem to form a sentence using different 'words' and 'punctuation marks'!
The world famous Maligne Lake valley, in Jasper National Park, Canada, is being slowly being devastated by pine beetle. Even in this image, you can see the brown trees in the background. They have a death sentence. Global warming? Absolutely.
The Conciergerie is a former courthouse and prison in Paris, France, located on the west of the Île de la Cité, below the Palais de Justice. It was originally part of the former royal palace, the Palais de la Cité, which also included the Sainte-Chapelle. Two large medieval halls remain from the royal palace. During the French Revolution, 2,780 prisoners, including Marie-Antoinette, were imprisoned, tried and sentenced at the Conciergerie, then sent to different sites to be executed by the guillotine. It is now a national monument and museum. (Source: Wikipedia)
The stripes may mark him as the prisoner, yet the weight rests on her shoulders. His smoke drifts free into the night, while she sits bound by silence. On the steps of the Cathedral, the roles of captive and keeper quietly reverse. Shot in Cologne, Germany with a Leica M11 Mono and Summilux 50mm.
I've no idea what these flowers are, but they were suspended from an arch trellis and made a beautiful display.
In their fearsome corner, the players rule the slow pieces.
The board delays them until dawn
in its severe field in which two colors hate each other.
Inside radiate magical rigor forms:
Homeric tower, light horse,
armed queen, last king,
oblique bishop and aggressor pawns.
When the players are gone
when time has consumed them,
certainly the rite will not have ceased.
In India, perhaps, this war was ignited
whose amphitheater is today the whole earth.
like the other, this game is infinite.
Dim King, bishop bias,
fierce Queen, direct rook and cunning pawn
on the black and white of the road
seek and wage their armed battle.
They don't know that the pointed hand
of the player governs his fate,
they do not know that an Adamantine rigor
hold his will and his journey.
Also the player is a prisoner
(the sentence belongs to Omar) from another board
of black nights and white days.
God moves the player, and the player the piece.
What god behind god the plot begins
of dust and time and sleep and agonies?
by Jorge Luis Borges
~ Perpetuity ~ www.flickr.com/groups/perpetuity/, Envylicious (29, 75, 35) - Adulto
This sentence is made of lead (and a sentence of lead gives a reader an entirely different sensation from one made of magnesium).
This sentence is made of yak wool.
This sentence glows in the dark.
This sentence was born with a caul.
This sentence once spit in a book reviewer's eye.
This sentence suffered a split infinitive - and survived.
This sentence leaks.
Tom Robbins
This image is quite unique to me, even though it's from my co-worker's wedding. She's older than me, but I usually talk with her husband, and they always treat me with respect throughout my time working with them.
I would like to send my best wishes to them for their wedding ceremony! May the love you share today grow stronger as you grow old together!
Happy Wedding Day!
The title I've chosen for this image is: "Lift Off the Limits!" I will share my thoughts in the comment below.
Flickr Friday - #Wedding
Have a good day - Everyone!
White sand and turquoise blue water. Small waves of turquoise blue water wash gently across the white sand while mountain peaks rise into the blue sky above. Typically the words arctic and beach are not usually mentioned together in the same sentence, however, on the Lofoten islands there are perhaps some of the most spectacular beaches you will ever see.....
Part of the NOBEL PEACE PRIZE SPEECH:
" I never forget when I brought a man from the street. He was covered with maggots; his face was the only place that was clean. And yet that man, when we brought him to our home for the dying, he said just one sentence: I have lived like an animal in the street, but I am going to die like an angel, love and care, and he died beautifully. He went home to God, for dead is nothing but going home to God. And he having enjoyed that love, that being wanted, that being loved, that being somebody to somebody at the last moment, brought that joy in his life."
MADRE TERESA.........................of KOLKATA
@
Jama Masjid
in
Old Delhi
Photography’s new conscience