THE ARTIST.
Just… go here. Now. (War Horse might be our favorite.)
I swore I would never reblog anything, but this is just too good.
THE ARTIST.
Just… go here. Now. (War Horse might be our favorite.)
I swore I would never reblog anything, but this is just too good.
I wrote this in 13 minutes for Tom Klotz’s English homework all while sitting on a toilet. I was compensated for my efforts with a Red Bull. Good deal.
Standing sentinel the statuary,
Sees before it not at all stirring,
Fellow denizens, stone mortuary,
Grown old and stagnant without demurring.
Morning light sweeps in on frozen faces,
Holding for years the same conversation,
Sworn forever to watch empty places,
Where once were scenes of glamoured elation.
Wind whispers over the cold cobblestone,
And caresses limb and stone cheek alike,
Leaving through the gate as rust hinges moan,
As The statue garden stands still by night.
Santigold - Starstruck
This is the song Peter and I would play back when we used to joyride down to Baltimore at 2am. Her new album drops this week. I’m excited.
Song I’ve had sex to (and no, it was not with Peter)