How glorious is this day of glory.
Just thought that everyone should be in the know:
Cheese is oh-so-WONDERFUL!!!!!
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Comments
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starin at the facel:less: mann
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while you are left:
without me or the van
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i told you to kill the super string
i told you
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v.atech
:.
m:passive
w:aggressive
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whuti.dowhut.ido.whut.i.do???
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neverwrit that math outloud
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m.i.t.ttens got me now.
:>
“thredd don’t know how to build a bridge out
to explain this: storry.sorry”
:>
blood bath i seen it b4 u -
Yay for The Streets……..the only rap music I listen to.
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so nobody cares about wot happens when the largest ‘civilian massacre’ happens in the history of our country?
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i knew about it b4 it happened es wot i was sayin just like the ‘two towers’ day.
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am i taking crazy pills?
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thredd out.
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listn to yur cheezy industry music
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i was already effed by that pigg. -
i was wrong:
eliott didn’t lie.
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1.9.2.5. [T.S. Eliott}
.I
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellarShape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us — if at all — not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer –Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdomIII
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdomsIn this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid riverSightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the ShadowFor Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the ShadowLife is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the KingdomFor Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper
.. -
No, Eliot didn’t lie. He was a brilliant man.
Are you referring in you previous comment to the way none of us TD-ers have commented on the VT massacre? It is a little weird, I suppose, the way we blatantly avoid discussing major current events. I’ll see what I can do about that.
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no, i am in crisis because i wrote my poem about : starin at faceless: man
or whutever
b4 i found out about massacre: then learned of massacre: then came to team daria: and the post was:
“what a glorious day” or something. and it was about cheese?
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I DON’T WATCH CNN EITHER.
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i just write psychotic poems
and then come in and find other people living in my house
watching cnn or whatever : and the news is acting out my poems and art.
.
?
..
sorry
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i won’t post agin
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threddout