cannot get enough of this stuff.
This is from my friend Pro Gramm.
THE GRAVE TREE
There I have never gone, sadly beyond
any wind, where your dreams have their darkness
In your most cold loss are things which die in me,
or which I cannot beg for because they are too cruel
Your bleak truth awfully will hit me
though I have cut myself unto death
You always fell leaf by leaf, upon myself
as the tree waits sadly for a sorrowful grave
Or if your branches be wishing for me, I and
the sky will cry submissively, howl violently,
as when the darkness of this wind blows
like the thing that sadly everywhere hunts
Nothing which we are to know in this earth sees
the entrance of your earnest room, whose door
appeals to me with each creak of its hinge,
showing night and dark in each opening
I do not look into what it is about you that prays
and waits, only something in me knows that
the fall of your leaves is more painful than all terror
Nothing, not even loneliness, has such damp despair
- Pro Gramm
.oOo.
Set as favorite
Bookmark
Email This
Comments (7)

Ricardovitz
said:
|
You can tell the world you never was my girl You can burn my clothes when I'm gone Or you can tell your friends just what a fool I've been And laugh and joke about me on the phone You can tell my arms to go back onto the phone You can tell my feet to hit the floor Or you can tell my lilps to tell my fingertips They won't be reaching out for you no more But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart I just don't think it'd understand And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart He might blow up and kill this man Ooo You can tell your ma I moved to Arkansas Or you can tell your dog to bite my leg Or tell your brother Cliff who's fist can tell my lips He never really liked me anyway Oh tell your Aunt Louise, tell anything you please Myself already knows that I'm okay Oh you can tell my eyes to watch out for my mind It might be walking out on me today But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart I just don't think it'd understand And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart He might blow up and kill this man Ooo But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart I just don't think it'd understand And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart He might blow up and kill this man Ooo Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart He might blow up and kill this man Ooo Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart He might blow up and kill this man Ooo ______________________ Ain't that sump'n? |
Unregistered
said:
Ricardovitz
said:
Ivana Banga
said:
Ricardovitz
said:
|
"A VAGINA BAN" This is the liberal mind set. It is a disease, a mental dissorder. The Liberal, drug-induced, mind is allways thinking of ways tha the GOVERNMENT can take another freedom or right away. First they ban guns, now..... You durgged up hippies are very sick. The best cure for dope-feinds is poisoned dope. How hard could it be to just convert all illegal drugs into flesh-destroying chemical compounds? Mix a little Zoloft with the Hippy's LSD; or a little Scopolamine stirred up with the junky's Heroin. And, Farmer Vincent says "By By Hippy, By By." |
Write comment












