tiny vices
Saturday, May 28, 2011
- - -
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
E. A. Poe
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
E. A. Poe
Friday, May 13, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Friday, April 8, 2011
Monday, March 14, 2011
sign of the sixth beat
Francis Parrilli (whose texts I often post) has released Hands Like Hurrah, a new book in which he's created a dark and beautifully melodic text-scape. His own description of the work...
“I am a child of sun, symphonious!” Do they hear the cry of your Mother Nature scream, the long sob in the outer space? A phantom plenipotentiary, a trinity lost in the landscape cascaded with the absurdity of language/religion/science – the massacre and percussion, the martyr and animals standing upright talking, séance, dancing with raised hands like hurrah, mad dancing to the sign of the sixth beat. Spooky news trajectory. Miracle play on words, the fool, pleading with, multiple personalities: a story.
If you're interested in a copy ($6), email Francis at francis.parrilli@gmail.com
If you're interested in a copy ($6), email Francis at francis.parrilli@gmail.com
Friday, February 11, 2011
Friday, January 28, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
<< <> >>
And the wind had come and gone, and still a frail figure waved his fingers in the twilight. He was me and we were only waiting for you to wake, only wading through a tide pool of polarity. But wouldn’t the rains now blow? I’m not sure love - I don’t know. Now on knees, what good would a spade or a speech do? Too much had solidified around us, our molecules molded around our mouths - breathless. Never knowing, as for not showing, that the deep-deep down was never ending. I’d have to stop pretending soon, so they said, so they say. Although the light would bully back the black at this or any moments notice, I caught the constellations with an eye, with the other, and wondered why I bothered to count and calculate; skipping the ones I did not know and/or believe in. But that was my sin. I knew exactly where the waves were crashing and I allowed them to go unseen.
FNP
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