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Kristen Stewart

Sure, 'Twilight' is really huge right now and everybody's freaking out over it, but it will go away soon and I will be back to doing what I'm used to doing: weird little movies that nobody sees.

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Red Blooded Woman

Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Yeah...
ah, ah, ah, ah, ah
Count backwards 5, 4, 3, 2, 1
Before you get too heated and turned on (and turned on)
You should've learned your lesson all in times before
You've been bruised, you've been broken
And theres my mind saying think before you go
Through that door it could lead you nowhere (yes boy)
Has got you all romantic crazy in your head
Do you think I'd listen, no I don't care
Can't focus I can't stop
You got me spinning round, round, round, round (like a record)
Can't focus it's too hot (inside)
You'll never get to Heaven, if you're scared of getting high
(Boy, boy) Let me keep freaking around, I wanna get down
And I'm a red-blooded woman, what's the point of hanging around?
(Boy, boy)
I wanna keep turning it down, when this girl wants to rock with you, yeah...
(Boy, boy)
Let me keep freaking around, I wanna get down
And I'm a red-blooded woman, what's the point of hanging around?
(Boy, boy)
I wanna keep turning it down, when this girl wants to rock with you
My conscience saying, get down off this dream,
It's too dangerous and deadly (yes boy)
Has got you talking round in circles can't you see,
All for the sake of sexy
Then there's my sense saying stop before you fall
I dont wanna pick you up again (yes boy)
He's got you all romantic and crazier each day
You think I'd listen, there's no way
Can't focus I can't stop
You got me spinning round, round, round, round (like a record)
Can't focus it's too hot (inside)
You'll never get to Heaven, if you're scared of getting high
(Boy, boy)
Let me keep freaking around, I wanna get down
And I'm a red-blooded woman, what's the point of hanging around?
(Boy, boy)
I wanna keep turning it down, when this girl wants to rock with you, yeah...
(Boy, boy)
Let me keep freaking around, I wanna get down
And I'm a red-blooded woman, what's the point of hanging around?
(Boy, boy)
I wanna keep turning it down, when this girl wants to rock with you
Let me keep freaking around, freaking around
Red blooded women
It's too hot inside
You'll never get to Heaven if you're scared of getting high

[...] Read more

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Watch Him Twitch

freaking out.....about time i got a gun
freaking out....about time u started to run....
closer....closer....closer to what...
freaking out..... the long knife ready to cut
freaking out the amatuar will start to do
closer closer... to losing a limb..now
freaking out... ready to die you too?
freaking out... how did this happen how
closer...closer...death come
not freaking out...inevitablility and fate..... arise
blacken and bloody my skies
i see no future ahead
i see a future where im dead

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I want to be warm so freaking bad

I want to be warm so freaking bad
While the big winter freeze sets in

All this condensation and precipitation
With little perspiration and evaporation
Everywhere I go
There are blankets of white snow
I am indoors having phone conversations

With minus freezing temperature
The cold affects every living creature
This is the cold side of nature
When little drops of water have an adventure

I want to be warm so freaking bad
That's why I can not get out of bed

In houses hide the mass populations
While the nation is in depression
Faced with buses and train cancellations
Right now I face hibernation

When I open my doors
The cold wind blows hardcore
It bites into my bones
And I retreat back home alone

I want to be warm so freaking bad
That's why my heating is constantly on
I want to be warm so freaking bad
That's why I have so many clothes on

Because every time I open my windows
I don't need a pair of binoculars
To see that walking on thin ice
Is not a comforting struggle

I want to be warm so freaking bad
And I know my thoughts are not all that mad
I want to be warm so freaking bad
While the big winter freeze sets in so bad

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Weird World

It's a Weird World...Weird World
Hey, hey, hey!
The sun is over the city but it's an orange day
There is reason for looking up but I'm feeling down
You see Ive got to catch a plane, won't buy a ticket
'Cause it's hard to just stop when you're spinning around
Its a weird world dont you know it?
Its a weird world and it wont slow down
Its a weird world no matter how you roll it
Hey, hey, hey! Sweet baby
Theres a way
Just stand up and fight it
Hey, hey, hey!
Never give up, and dont let it wear out (now)
Your love
It's a weird world...Yeah
Sent a message to a G.I.
In the desert
Said thank you man for bringing another dawn
Back here it's her and me
And we're having our first baby
And he's out there taking them on (on)
Its a weird world and I know you know it
Its a weird world and it wont slow down
Its a weird world no matter how you roll it
Hey, hey, hey! Sweet baby
Theres a way
Just stand up and fight it
Hey, hey, hey!
Never give up, dont let it wear out (now)
Your love
Im closing my eyes but Im starting to see
While hes looking at you, shes looking at me
The only thing he does is just keep me away from you
Sure part of this place would cheer if I died
Dont let them take away your beautiful smile
Take away your beautiful smile
Take away your beautiful smile
Hey, hey, hey! Sweet baby
Theres a way
Just stand up and fight it (Yeah, ye-ah!)
Hey, hey, hey! (sweet baby!) Sweet baby
Theres a way
For you to decide it
Hey, hey, hey!
Never give up, dont let it wear out (now)
Your love
Hey, hey, hey!
Its a weird world dont you know it?
Hey, hey, hey!

[...] Read more

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Some Weird Sin

Pop/bowie
Well, I never got my license to live
They wont give it up
So I stand at the worlds edge
Well, Im trying to break in
Oh no, its not for me
And the sight of it all
Makes me sad and ill
Thats when I want
Some weird sin
Things get too straight
I cant bear it
I feel stuck
Stuck on a pin
Well Im trying to break in
And I know its not for me
And the sight of it all
Makes me sad and ill
Thats when I want
Some weird sin
Thats when I want
Some weird sin
Just to relax with
Thats some dumb weird sin
For a while anyway
With my head on the ledge
Thats what you get out on the edge
Some weird sin
Things get too straight
I cant bear it
I feel stuck
Stuck on a pin
Im trying to break in
Oh, I know its not for me
Well, the sight of it all
Makes me sad and ill
Thats when I want
Some weird sin
Thats when I want
Some weird sin
Just to relax with
.
Thats some dumb weird sin
For a while anyway
With my head out on the ledge
Thats what you get out on the edge
Some weird sin
Some weird sin, some weird sin

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Groovy Movies

Sometimes I think Im gonna better myself,
Searching for acceptance in this big, wide world.
Sometimes I think I wont make it,
Playing in a rock n roll band.
Sometimes I wanna be a picture director,
And try to make the world understand.
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies.
All the movie makers of the world would be,
Falling over backwards to have dinner with me.
Ill go down to [? ]
Anytime I feel like a game[? ].
Or take a long vacation to san tropez,
And think of all the money I made.
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies.
I dont want to be a producer,
I dont want to be a big star.
I just want to be a picture director,
And smoke a big havana cigar.
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies,
By making groovy movies.

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Weird Science

(weird science)
Plastic tubes and pots and pans
Bits and pieces and
Magic from the hand
Were makin
(weird science)
Things Ive never seen before
Behind bolted doors
Talent and imagination
(weird science)
Not what teacher said to do
Makin dreams come true
Living tissue, warm flesh
(weird science)
Plastic tubes and pots and pans
Bits and pieces (and)
Bits and pieces (and)
Chorus
(bits of) my creation--is it real?
Its my creation--i do not know
No hesitation--no heart of gold
Just flesh and blood--i do not know
From my heart and from my hand
Why dont people understand
My intentions . . . . oooh, weird . . . .
Weird science!!
(weird science)
Magic and technology
Voodoo dolls and chants
Electricity
Were makin
(weird science)
Fantasy and microchips
Shooting from the hip
Something different
Were makin
(weird science)
Pictures from a magazine
Diagrams and charts
Mending broken hearts (and makin)
(weird science)
Something like a recipe
Bits and pieces . . . .
Bits and pieces . . . .

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Sad Movies

Sad movies always make me cry
Sad movies always make me cry
He said he had to work, so I went to the show alone.
They turned down the lights and turned the projector on.
And just as the news of the world started to begin,
I saw my darling and my best friend walking in.
Although I was sitting right there they didnn see me.
And so they both sat right down in the front of me.
And when he kissed her lips then I almost died.
And in the middle of the colour cartoon I started to cry.
Oh sad movies always make me cry
Sad movies always make me cry
Sad movies always make me cry
Sad movies always make me cry
And so I got on up and slowly I walked on home,
And mama saw the tears and said baby what is wrong.
And so just to keep from telling her a lie,
I just said sad movies makes me cry.
Oh sad movies always make me cry
Sad movies always make me cry
Sad movies always make me cry
Sad movies always make me cry

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Only In The Making Of Movies

Only in the making of movies,
Are actors found to be handed scripts.
To then learn lines some find to be tedious.
And time well spent is sacrificed to deliver,
What's right for the price...
For the cost being paid.

Camera angles are selected,
By a director who chooses the best scenes.
And the actors are blocked within them,
To emote with belief as an audince viewing this...
Sits,
With their emotions manipulated.

Only in the making of movies,
Are 'realities' depicted.
Although many in the audience become captivated,
With beliefs they also can deceive truth easily.
By saying and doing things they wish to sell.
With hopes their 'portrayals' have gone over well.

And only those who become offended,
They can not sell lies they told to tell...
Are those who become combative,
When confronted by others...
Who are specific and direct AND caring less,
How a charade is masqueraded to address.

Only in the making of movies,
Are actors found to be handed scripts.
To then learn lines some find to be tedious.
Until what is done has been finished.
But many unpaid to 'act' but embellish facts,
Find it difficult to strip away all their fantasies.

Only in the making of movies...
No one sits back to snack.
Only in the making of movies...
Every actor wants to get paid.
And,
Only in the making of movies...
No one sits back to snack.
No one has time for that,
Since a budget has to be paid back.
Oh.
Only in the making of movies...
No one sits back to snack.
Only in the making of movies...
Every actor wants to get paid.
And,

[...] Read more

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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.


II.

[...] Read more

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Light In My Darkness

as the day gets closeri ponder on what i told her she sees the light in my darkness as i wonder what she has caressed and she sees my poteintial as i am hororendously altered to what i am yet to be and she sees me for who i truely am as i slam my fist into this door a crippleing blow i should say as i lay here wondering why she sees light in my dark ness

as light filter through a darkness that is so true we wander thy dark wood wondering how to find our fate not to hate the one ho put us through wondering pondering why she sees the light filter through a darkness that is so true

as light penitrates my dark and wounded heart paying no mind to what it has healed as i seal my fate of which i take and it to claims me as a true dark but light finds my soul and she sees the light in my darkness that is so true

i am not as dark as i seem to be cuase she sees the light in me and i see the light in her which i truely pefer

and as i ponder on which i have said and i have sped down the road of life which is truely darkand she has saved me because she sees the light in my darkness of which i may contort due to the light she sees
as the darkness is contorted to see optimistically of all this strife as this knife drops to the floor as the darkness begins to contort
with this life i shall change as li lay me down to sleep i pray my soul the lord to keep if i die before i wke i pray my soul the lord to take as i partake in this in a heavenly manner i believe i see the light in my darkness as i see ture the beloved i shoved all my grief down the drain and she sees the light in my darkness as do i

hate is a fate that we we all can partake as we see the key to life as the kife is droped to the floor as the door slams into its jam life is contorted and then altered as we all can falter as the slaughter of man takes place as an ace is droped on the table as we all can tell this is a fable to be heard as a hearse takes your friend to her grave and she told me to say this that you are gay like the fey folk al i sasy this life flies by as shooting star and the i drive my car off a cliff into a tidal rift and float to the very end as i send a message to those who dont have hope and then i float to the land of the dead to spread this hate as we partake in the slaughter of man as i pretend the light was never spread and as i am beheaded by the beast with three heads as a hockey puck goes throgh a staind glass window as she is made a widow because of the war of the worlds and the darkness is once more contorted to her will and she sees me and the light in the darkness

forsay to end this fable i say to thee my life is a creed of which to be fallowed as i swallow the waters of the holyto souly depend on her to see tme for who i am truely am and thy light with in me thierein lies the secret of life which we all pass and not see as light filters through allof the dark and not lighted as my foresight is met light and dark meet for one last battle as life begins to contort and falter

then again life is always contorting to her will and the light spreads through a darkeness so trueonce more she sees the light in me in order to see the doves fly for her love for me cause she sees light in me and as i weave a tread so thin i send a message of hope in order to cope with the sin of man as i tan the hide of the beast so fierce that has dieed due to the light she brought me cuz she sees the light with in me

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The Pillage Hangman - Parody LONGFELLOW - The Village Blacksmith

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The Smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can
And looks the whole world in the face
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming furge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church
and sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach.
He hears his daughter's voice
singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling, -rejoicing, -sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend

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Peter Bell, A Tale

PROLOGUE

There's something in a flying horse,
There's something in a huge balloon;
But through the clouds I'll never float
Until I have a little Boat,
Shaped like the crescent-moon.

And now I 'have' a little Boat,
In shape a very crescent-moon
Fast through the clouds my boat can sail;
But if perchance your faith should fail,
Look up--and you shall see me soon!

The woods, my Friends, are round you roaring,
Rocking and roaring like a sea;
The noise of danger's in your ears,
And ye have all a thousand fears
Both for my little Boat and me!

Meanwhile untroubled I admire
The pointed horns of my canoe;
And, did not pity touch my breast,
To see how ye are all distrest,
Till my ribs ached, I'd laugh at you!

Away we go, my Boat and I--
Frail man ne'er sate in such another;
Whether among the winds we strive,
Or deep into the clouds we dive,
Each is contented with the other.

Away we go--and what care we
For treasons, tumults, and for wars?
We are as calm in our delight
As is the crescent-moon so bright
Among the scattered stars.

Up goes my Boat among the stars
Through many a breathless field of light,
Through many a long blue field of ether,
Leaving ten thousand stars beneath her:
Up goes my little Boat so bright!

The Crab, the Scorpion, and the Bull--
We pry among them all; have shot
High o'er the red-haired race of Mars,
Covered from top to toe with scars;
Such company I like it not!

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The Four Seasons : Autumn

Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more,
Well pleased, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost
Nitrous prepared; the various blossom'd Spring
Put in white promise forth; and Summer-suns
Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view,
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme.
Onslow! the Muse, ambitious of thy name,
To grace, inspire, and dignify her song,
Would from the public voice thy gentle ear
A while engage. Thy noble cares she knows,
The patriot virtues that distend thy thought,
Spread on thy front, and in thy bosom glow;
While listening senates hang upon thy tongue,
Devolving through the maze of eloquence
A roll of periods, sweeter than her song.
But she too pants for public virtue, she,
Though weak of power, yet strong in ardent will,
Whene'er her country rushes on her heart,
Assumes a bolder note, and fondly tries
To mix the patriot's with the poet's flame.
When the bright Virgin gives the beauteous days,
And Libra weighs in equal scales the year;
From Heaven's high cope the fierce effulgence shook
Of parting Summer, a serener blue,
With golden light enliven'd, wide invests
The happy world. Attemper'd suns arise,
Sweet-beam'd, and shedding oft through lucid clouds
A pleasing calm; while broad, and brown, below
Extensive harvests hang the heavy head.
Rich, silent, deep, they stand; for not a gale
Rolls its light billows o'er the bending plain:
A calm of plenty! till the ruffled air
Falls from its poise, and gives the breeze to blow.
Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky;
The clouds fly different; and the sudden sun
By fits effulgent gilds the illumined field,
And black by fits the shadows sweep along.
A gaily chequer'd heart-expanding view,
Far as the circling eye can shoot around,
Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn.
These are thy blessings, Industry! rough power!
Whom labour still attends, and sweat, and pain;
Yet the kind source of every gentle art,
And all the soft civility of life:
Raiser of human kind! by Nature cast,
Naked, and helpless, out amid the woods
And wilds, to rude inclement elements;
With various seeds of art deep in the mind

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Tannhauser

The Landgrave Hermann held a gathering
Of minstrels, minnesingers, troubadours,
At Wartburg in his palace, and the knight,
Sir Tannhauser of France, the greatest bard,
Inspired with heavenly visions, and endowed
With apprehension and rare utterance
Of noble music, fared in thoughtful wise
Across the Horsel meadows. Full of light,
And large repose, the peaceful valley lay,
In the late splendor of the afternoon,
And level sunbeams lit the serious face
Of the young knight, who journeyed to the west,
Towards the precipitous and rugged cliffs,
Scarred, grim, and torn with savage rifts and chasms,
That in the distance loomed as soft and fair
And purple as their shadows on the grass.
The tinkling chimes ran out athwart the air,
Proclaiming sunset, ushering evening in,
Although the sky yet glowed with yellow light.
The ploughboy, ere he led his cattle home,
In the near meadow, reverently knelt,
And doffed his cap, and duly crossed his breast,
Whispering his 'Ave Mary,' as he heard
The pealing vesper-bell. But still the knight,
Unmindful of the sacred hour announced,
Disdainful or unconscious, held his course.
'Would that I also, like yon stupid wight,
Could kneel and hail the Virgin and believe!'
He murmured bitterly beneath his breath.
'Were I a pagan, riding to contend
For the Olympic wreath, O with what zeal,
What fire of inspiration, would I sing
The praises of the gods! How may my lyre
Glorify these whose very life I doubt?
The world is governed by one cruel God,
Who brings a sword, not peace. A pallid Christ,
Unnatural, perfect, and a virgin cold,
They give us for a heaven of living gods,
Beautiful, loving, whose mere names were song;
A creed of suffering and despair, walled in
On every side by brazen boundaries,
That limit the soul's vision and her hope
To a red hell or and unpeopled heaven.
Yea, I am lost already,-even now
Am doomed to flaming torture for my thoughts.
O gods! O gods! where shall my soul find peace?'
He raised his wan face to the faded skies,
Now shadowing into twilight; no response
Came from their sunless heights; no miracle,
As in the ancient days of answering gods.

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Weird

I like the way you never sleep
And the promises you never keep
I like the way you say hello
And make it sound like time to go
I like the scar above your lip
The way you let your feelings slip
But they are never what you feel
Oh so fake but completely real
Dont you think its weird
Weirder then weird
Thats what you are
Thats what you are to be
What I like about you
Is what you like about me
Dont you think its weird
I like the rules that multiply
And make the good things
Pass you by
Standing here without a plan
Thats why your such a happy man
Dont you think its weird
Weirder then weird
Thats what you are
Thats what you are to be
What I like about you
Is what you like about me
Dont you think its 1,2
I wanna make some changes
I want my money back
I wanna start up with you
I wanna talk to strangers
I wanna be with you
But I just dont know
Where or When
Thats what you are
Thats what you are to be
What I like about you
Is what you like about me
Dont you think its weird
Weirder then weird
Thats what you are
Thats what you are to be
What I like about you
Is what you like about me
Dont you think its weird

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The King of the Vasse

A LEGEND OF THE BUSH.


MY tale which I have brought is of a time
Ere that fair Southern land was stained with crime,
Brought thitherward in reeking ships and cast
Like blight upon the coast, or like a blast
From angry levin on a fair young tree,
That stands thenceforth a piteous sight to see.
So lives this land to-day beneath the sun,—
A weltering plague-spot, where the hot tears run,
And hearts to ashes turn, and souls are dried
Like empty kilns where hopes have parched and died.
Woe's cloak is round her,—she the fairest shore
In all the Southern Ocean o'er and o'er.
Poor Cinderella! she must bide her woe,
Because an elder sister wills it so.
Ah! could that sister see the future day
When her own wealth and strength are shorn away,
A.nd she, lone mother then, puts forth her hand
To rest on kindred blood in that far land;
Could she but see that kin deny her claim
Because of nothing owing her but shame,—
Then might she learn 'tis building but to fall,
If carted rubble be the basement-wall.

But this my tale, if tale it be, begins
Before the young land saw the old land's sins
Sail up the orient ocean, like a cloud
Far-blown, and widening as it neared,—a shroud
Fate-sent to wrap the bier of all things pure,
And mark the leper-land while stains endure.
In the far days, the few who sought the West
Were men all guileless, in adventurous quest
Of lands to feed their flocks and raise their grain,
And help them live their lives with less of pain
Than crowded Europe lets her children know.
From their old homesteads did they seaward go,
As if in Nature's order men must flee
As flow the streams,—from inlands to the sea.

In that far time, from out a Northern land,
With home-ties severed, went a numerous band
Of men and wives and children, white-haired folk:
Whose humble hope of rest at home had broke,
As year was piled on year, and still their toil
Had wrung poor fee from -Sweden's rugged soil.
One day there gathered from the neighboring steads,
In Jacob Eibsen's, five strong household heads,—
Five men large-limbed and sinewed, Jacob's sons,

[...] Read more

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Alastor: or, the Spirit of Solitude

Earth, Ocean, Air, belovèd brotherhood!
If our great Mother has imbued my soul
With aught of natural piety to feel
Your love, and recompense the boon with mine;
If dewy morn, and odorous noon, and even,
With sunset and its gorgeous ministers,
And solemn midnight's tingling silentness;
If Autumn's hollow sighs in the sere wood,
And Winter robing with pure snow and crowns
Of starry ice the gray grass and bare boughs;
If Spring's voluptuous pantings when she breathes
Her first sweet kisses,--have been dear to me;
If no bright bird, insect, or gentle beast
I consciously have injured, but still loved
And cherished these my kindred; then forgive
This boast, belovèd brethren, and withdraw
No portion of your wonted favor now!

Mother of this unfathomable world!
Favor my solemn song, for I have loved
Thee ever, and thee only; I have watched
Thy shadow, and the darkness of thy steps,
And my heart ever gazes on the depth
Of thy deep mysteries. I have made my bed
In charnels and on coffins, where black death
Keeps record of the trophies won from thee,
Hoping to still these obstinate questionings
Of thee and thine, by forcing some lone ghost,
Thy messenger, to render up the tale
Of what we are. In lone and silent hours,
When night makes a weird sound of its own stillness,
Like an inspired and desperate alchemist
Staking his very life on some dark hope,
Have I mixed awful talk and asking looks
With my most innocent love, until strange tears,
Uniting with those breathless kisses, made
Such magic as compels the charmèd night
To render up thy charge; and, though ne'er yet
Thou hast unveiled thy inmost sanctuary,
Enough from incommunicable dream,
And twilight phantasms, and deep noonday thought,
Has shone within me, that serenely now
And moveless, as a long-forgotten lyre
Suspended in the solitary dome
Of some mysterious and deserted fane,
I wait thy breath, Great Parent, that my strain
May modulate with murmurs of the air,
And motions of the forests and the sea,
And voice of living beings, and woven hymns
Of night and day, and the deep heart of man.

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Weird

Weird...
is not...
Life...
Life is

Not weird...
some time life
Weird...
Some time not

Weird...
Don't woory
weird is not life...
Life also....

Some time weird....
cry...
woory...
sad...

sin...
happy...
Is all weird...?

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Weird Nightmare

Weird nightmare
You haunt my every dream
Weird nightmare
Tell me whats your scheme?
Can it be that youre a part
Of a lonely broken heart?
Weird nightmare
Why must you torment me?
Weird nightmare
Pain and misery
In a heart thats loved and lost
Take away the grief youve caused
Cant sleep at night
Twist, turn in fright
With the fear that Ill live it all again
In my dreams
Youre there to haunt me
When you say she doesnt want me
Ive been hurt
Do you know what that means?
Weird nightmare
Take away this dream youve born
Weird nightmare
Mend a heart thats torn
That has paid the price of love
A thousand fold
Bring me a love
With a heart of gold
Weird nightmare

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