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| the death of st. louis
burn baby burn
the boys chant
they have no sense of history
no respect
for what is precious
and sacred
while catholic and protestant alike
shoot daggers with their eyes
then watch in horror
as the twin spires crumble
ashes to ashes
dust to dust
flames leap to an ebony sky 
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| April and Silence
by Tomas Tranströmer Spring lies desolate.
The velvet-dark ditch
crawls by my side
without reflections. The only thing that shines
is yellow flowers. I am carried in my shadow
like a violin
in its black box. The only thing I want to say
glitters out of reach
like the silver
in a pawnbroker's. | | |
| Windows XP crashed.
I am the Blue Screen of Death.
No one hears your screams.
(By Peter Rothman)
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That evil blue screen
It has vanquished my laptop
I will get even (by Me) | | |
| Denn also hat Gott die Welt geliebt dass er seinen,
elingeborenen Sohn gab, damit alle, die an ihn
glauben, nicht verloren werden, sondern das ewige
Leben haben. -Johannes 3:16 | | |
| I see you and all of a sudden my heart is on a rollercoaster ride, doing climbs and drops and zig-zags in my chest. And just when I thought I had let that flock of butterflies back into the wild, I find them back again doing laps in my stomach. And my head is about as light as a feather. This can't be good for my health. But I wouldn't trade it for the world. When I'm around you, I cannot help to become intent. I watch you with an eye of interest, cataloguing each little nuance, every mannerism and I tuck them away. A woman's heart is home to many little secrets and memories. Each little memory keeps you near, even when I cannot see you. But that is just cliché. And so I keep it inside. And I won't tell you for fear that you'd laugh and scorn me. But maybe some day I'll gain the courage. Maybe I'll get that flock of butterflies to fly in formation. And then I'll tell you. And maybe make you understand how much I love you. | | |
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This is the writing journal of UnionMegs. I don't update very often, but check up on me once in awhile to see if inspiration has struck. =P
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