"The tyrant has fallen!"

I believe those words, uttered at the hanging of Saddam, gives some gravity and depth to what happened.

excerpt from knights of cydonia by muse

No one's gonna take me alive,
The time has come to make things right,
You and I must fight for our rights,
You and I must fight to survive,

No one's gonna take me alive,
The time has come to make things right,
You and I must fight for our rights,
You and I must fight to survive

Damn. with a royal capital "D"
Why was/has this word become something to be taken seriously? offensive?
Is it possible because it actually DOES something?
That to damn something, actually does that- "damn" it?
Because if it does, then I rightfully, righteously would damn the disease dubbed under the name of cancer.
I hate cancer because it has brought destruction to everything I see it touch.
I hope that cancer will become erradicated from society and not touch humanity. I was about to say innocent, but who knows who is innocent, we are all guilty of something or another, who can sift through and pinpoint what random cause and result domino affect was started by what sin.

I wish I could damn something, in fact I did, in writing. But I erased it.
Should I be doing something I am ignorant of.
Instead I counter curses with blessings.
I bless all those who are cursed, and I ask that the Lord G-d of Abraham, Moses, David and Jesus set free all those who are bound by the chains of sickness and meaningless of cancer. They have suffered, suffered, suffered.
I pray a blessings upon their soul and bodies that G-d may lavish on them healing and comfort.
I will this to come to pass in the name of Christ Jesus.

Const(ant)ellation

Yes, Pegasus. Myths remember your name,
-the kick in your hooves, and wind in your mane.
Your radiant wings, and silvery hide,
Your galloping soar with spectacular stride.
Myths remember your days of living and flying,
we immortalize you with our stars and our writing

NO!
NO!
NO!

I'm going through shock right now...a little bit of denial and a little bit of immense dissapointment in myself.
I worked for this grade, I worked hard. I did what was required, I tried my best.

God knows what He's doing, if He's doing anything at all.
I can't ...comprehend why!? I got this grade...I can't change it or anything...how..what...what

Oh songbird, songbird, will she love me? will she care? Fly so far for me, fly on air...

Hummingbird

floating with flitter
drink nectar sweet
from tubas and horns
from brass instruments pink

fast wings keep rhythm
with fast silent singing
performing with pulse
of theatrical dancing

feathers violently red
shimmer in flight
beneath colored shade
reflecting the light

a bearer of fire
of heaven's winged hues
deaf vision of lyre
heaven's meek Muse

oh the majestic feeling of creativity to surge once again through the soul.

Song by Allen Ginsberg

The weight of the world
is love.
Under the burden
of solitude,
under the burden
of dissatisfaction

the weight,
the weight we carry
is love.

Who can deny?
In dreams
it touches
the body,
in thought
constructs
a miracle,
in imagination
anguishes
till born
in human--
looks out of the heart
burning with purity--
for the burden of life
is love,

but we carry the weight
wearily,
and so must rest
in the arms of love
at last,
must rest in the arms
of love.

No rest
without love,
no sleep
without dreams
of love--
be mad or chill
obsessed with angels
or machines,
the final wish
is love
--cannot be bitter,
cannot deny,
cannot withhold
if denied:

the weight is too heavy

--must give
for no return
as thought
is given
in solitude
in all the excellence
of its excess.

The warm bodies
shine together
in the darkness,
the hand moves
to the center
of the flesh,
the skin trembles
in happiness
and the soul comes
joyful to the eye--

yes, yes,
that's what
I wanted,
I always wanted,
I always wanted,
to return
to the body
where I was born.

i want to create beauty. i selfishly think i can confine it and claim it for myself.
but of course, i can't and fail. beauty is intelligent, it'll love on it's own accord.

The Tyger by William Blake

taken from the book Innocence and Experience
The Tyger

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?