˚◦°°◦..Watch this Space◦°°◦..

Guestbook!


SIGN HERE. Visiting? Don't Forget to leave a shout back!

ωєℓ ¢σмє


N.B Please respect the fact that written work and pictures are mine...unless otherwise stated. Respect my creativity.

As the Oscar is won and the crowd applauds,
The actress gleams and then…a pause,
I’d like to thank…
Is how she begins.
And we all know who’s behind why she wins.

The person who brought me into this world,
Within whom I was silently curled,
Who ensured I was taught the basics of life,
Showed me my left,
Told me what’s right.
To you I owe thanks for my daring nature,
The ability to appreciate every creature.
The beauty in simplicity I now clearly see,
Because of you my spirit runs free.
Sensitivity coupled with a resolute view,
Within who I am I see echoes of you.

The actress spoke on behalf of every grateful child.
For Behind every person and all that they’ve done,
Is an extraordinary woman we all know as
Mom.

5月10日

D in fame ous Fue Ture

A fragile window of what is to be,

Gazing out at the prospective possibility.

Seeing the green envy of the blues,

Or the Sun setting with a reddish orange hue...

Face it.

The smile will be etched or the frown continously grows.

Rolling green grass or endless chocking dirt.

Stumbling onto what is to be.

Knowing anything happens to everyone.

What about me?

4月30日

Best Soliloquy EVER

Hamlet's famous soliloquy, to be or not to be...

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer (65)
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks (70)
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, (75)
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay, (80)
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life, (85)
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of? (90)
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry, (95)
And lose the name of action.-- Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.

4月27日

Flip Flop

Songs on the radio remind me of your smile,
Your half-silly grin and light brown eyes.
I feel crazy and a little bit lost,
A wee bit girly and over the top.
Flippin flippity flip flop.
Hardly a word muttered but still...
Maybe we'll talk?
Stupid me...we never will.
Should i paint it on the wall?
Sing it out loud?
Stand out of the crowd?
Be a bit girly and over the top?

Till then its flippin flippity flop.

4月12日