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... if the summer comes to an end now so slowly. One feels already sometimes how the nature prepares for it. Has found some sentences in addition:
The darkness
begins again earlier
and smokier breathes
the wilted nature.
The foliage covers
rustling the ways,
the autumn already signs
his coloured track.
Still summer
and, nevertheless, already past.
In the morning as a white frost ends
the fog in the grass.
At noon seems
still the warming sun,
if she transforms him
in pearls of glass.
© Sonja Drechsel-Walther
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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
Hair: Limerence - Else hair (gift) ♥
Cyber set: Aitne -> Trinity //body, gloves, boots, harness, pasties, sleeves// (kupra, maitreya, legacy, reborn, Belleza Gen X)
Sword: Legion - Destroyer Blade
Jaw & bandage: Legion
Ears: Aii
Oculus - Tentacio - Abdromeda
LM Aitne New Location!
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
The trail zig zags down the steep slope to the bridge over Oneonta Creek in the middle of this image. The forest is showing signs of recovery after the Eagle Creek Fire started by a 15 year old playing with smoke bombs on 9/2/2017. The fire burned almost 49 thousand acres of forest in the Columbia River Gorge area. The fire burned extremely hot due to drought and years of fire suppression and thus even trees which often can survive fire burned to death. $36.6 million in restitution was ordered along with almost 2,000 hours of community service. The boy has been complying with the terms of his sentence but will doubtless never pay off the restitution. Meanwhile the forest is starting to regenerate. The yellow leaves are from sprouts from the roots of dead maple and oak trees. Here and there are a few evergreen survivors. Some day this will be a forest again.
Pants : Kindex - Tochi Legging (Legacy M/A | Jake | Gianni X | Kario Fit/Flex)
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No single sentence better explains the motives and direction of Hopkins’s life than this: “Man is created to praise.” He believed it as wholly as a man can believe anything; and when regret or sorrow over anything in [Hopkins’] life comes to a critic’s mind, this must be remembered.
-Humphry House, The Note-Books and Papers of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1937), 416.
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.
Take This Waltz - Leonard Cohen
[.....]
Oh I want you, I want you, I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine
In a cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallway where love's never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Aey, aey, aey, aey
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
With its very own breath of brandy and death
Dragging its tail in the sea
There's a concert hall in Vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking
They've been sentenced to death by the blues
Ah but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Aey, aey, aey, aey
Take this waltz, take this waltz
Take this waltz it's been dying for years
There's an attic where children are playing
Where I've got to lie down with you soon
In a dream of Hungarian lanterns
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow
All your sheep and your lilies of snow
Aey, aey, aey, aey
Take this waltz, take this waltz
[....]
And I'll dance with you in Vienna
I'll be wearing a river's disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook
With the photographs there, and the moss
And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And you'll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist
Oh my love, oh my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz
It's yours now, it's all that there is
Just for fun -- seeing the line up of flowers in various stages seem to form a sentence using different 'words' and 'punctuation marks'!
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.
Sunday, In A Meeting, with Judy Kay. I love it when boats are lined up so that their names make a coherent sentence. Pillar Point Harbor, just north of Half Moon Bay, California.
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
A sentimental journey
back and forth through time
a haze sometimes
clear as crystal on other days
this is where the emotion chimes
hourly, daily, eternally perhaps?
as much as the Sun gives to life
the hidden shadows remain lost
to the extended night
only touched by reality's hurtful frost
perchance can it change at all?
or has time done enough inside
that sentence dressed in ill-fitting words
like Winter nestling in the clutch of Spring
the bane of all nature's lovebirds
herald the call with a cry
in clonos nothing can defy the truth
of intuitive feelings so vivacious
they of the free world fly in the face of our 'society'
reaching up in unison, in search of rightness...
we follow suit for justification of our ills
clarification of the wrongs within
condemnation of all others we deem below us
always in denial of our own contemptuous stance
of which none among us are truly blameless
upon this fact we at least stand shoulder to shoulder-
the blame in part,
consuming thoughts on a diet of weighty emotions
is a recipe for the poor health of purpose
we must all take responsibility for the recycling of such actions.
by anglia24
09h30: 10/04/2008
©2008anglia24
Is there really true freedom for all?
Over a million black men bake in US prisons-
with sentences far outweighing their crimes.
Many times
the same crime committed by a white man would not even get
him arrested or convicted.
Throw in slavery, institutionalized racism, the 1933-44 holocaust, the colonization of Africa, the prison industrial complex, Aids, Malaria, Sickle cell, i could go on and on and on,
but i ask again
Is the blackman really free?
much has improved
there is a great deal of betterment
but deep seated racism is still rampant
Battery Park
Man Hat Tan
Photography’s new conscience
Henry was the fly ambassador of goodwill towards humans, he was appointed to raise the profile of flies in the human population and to reduce the loathing felt by certain members of the pink skinned bipedal apes. One of the biggest issues for humans was that flies enjoy regurgitating their stomach contents onto food, dissolving it and sucking up the juices. Henry was thus the first fly to turn vegetarian and to chew his food.
Flies, being diptera, aren’t the smartest of insects, slightly above crane flies, but nowhere as clever as the beetles and social insects and so they hadn’t figured that they needed teeth to properly chew food and start the digestion process. Henry had been trying to chew a piece of this leaf for hours before I came along, to no avail. “Henry, whassup, what ya doin homey’” I said in my most street savvy vernacular (flies, although stupid, liked the latest trend words and spoke like teenagers). “Wicked, bro” said Henry “I’m just chillin wiv dis herbage trying to nyam it”. “Sweet”, I said, continuing to sound like an overaged, underinformed ‘youf’ “dat’s wicked, how long ya bin doin’ dat, innit”. ( I had also figured that using the word innit anywhere in sentences made you sound more street). “abaht free ‘ours, bro’ I feel a bit like I’m gonna puke soon.” I didn’t know what to say, Henry was determined, I watched for a few more minutes and eventually the inevitable happened, Henry puked all over the leaf. “Waste not, want not” said Henry in an almost adult voice as he commenced to suck up the vomit along with the now dissolving vegetation. Nice…
Condamné à passer un hiver très rude
Encore un panneau stop détourné,devant des arbres enneigés se découpant sur les belles façades colorées derrière la mairie de la Croix-rousse