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Idle Thoughts | Not just another WordPress.com weblogNot just another WordPress.com weblog (by Rob)
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Idle Thoughts | Not just another WordPress.com weblog | pyhrrus.wordpress.com Reviews
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Not just another WordPress.com weblog (by Rob)
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Valentine’s Post | Idle Thoughts
https://pyhrrus.wordpress.com/2010/02/16/valentines-post
Not just another WordPress.com weblog. Ars Poetica (Final) →. February 16, 2010. 8212;————. She arranges her petals, and she carefully flattens her flowy, spring dress. She looks for rainbows in dewdrops; from water and starlight, she wants nothing less. She stands up on her pedals, and then she leans into the sun’s gentle caress. And motions left/right at the stops; I fell in love with her a little, I confess. It was Valentine’s Day, not cold but brisk. A day for flowers, for taking big risks. She’s a f...
But Rob, what is spoken word? | Idle Thoughts
https://pyhrrus.wordpress.com/2009/12/19/but-rob-what-is-spoken-word
Not just another WordPress.com weblog. In every heart, there is a room →. But Rob, what is spoken word? December 19, 2009. Http:/ www.ted.com/talks/rives tells a story of mixed emoticons.html. This entry was posted in Writing I like. And tagged shameless promotion. In every heart, there is a room →. 2 responses to “ But Rob, what is spoken word? December 23, 2009 at 2:07 pm. January 13, 2010 at 12:12 pm. So I checked out the page like I promised I would. This link was cute. Thanks Robert.
Death in Gaza | Idle Thoughts
https://pyhrrus.wordpress.com/2010/03/09/death-in-gaza
Not just another WordPress.com weblog. March 9, 2010. Ahmed is my best friend. He is nice to me. I love him, and he loves me. We do everything together. I want to love the world – except our enemies, the Jews. That is a tank, yes, and eventually my rocks will dent them. Graves look the same, blood is the same colour. And this is flesh. Scattered. We are gathering it to bury. This is a quwa. It’s a hand grenade made of iron, sulphur, sugar, charcoal. The road to martyrdom is short. Even a child can. Some ...
Poverty Porn | Idle Thoughts
https://pyhrrus.wordpress.com/2010/02/21/poverty-porn
Not just another WordPress.com weblog. Death in Gaza →. February 21, 2010. Last Christmas, my little sister asked for a North Face fleece and Ugg boots. 8 Christmases ago, Mom lost her job. My grandfather had a stroke. And my little brother was doing a current events project. Violence escalates in Darfur. Hurricane leaves thousands homeless. Refugees cross borders with nowhere else to go. Look at these people. Look at these poor people. Wake up every morning, turn on my TV. He joins me in sympathy. I’ll ...
In every heart, there is a room | Idle Thoughts
https://pyhrrus.wordpress.com/2009/12/19/in-every-heart-there-is-a-room
Not just another WordPress.com weblog. But Rob, what is spoken word? Ars Poetica →. In every heart, there is a room. December 19, 2009. A sanctuary safe and sound (And so it goes, Billy Joel). Note: I’m not too sure, these were a bunch of verses kicking around my notebook, and I tried putting them together. I do like the idea of creating a home, mostly thanks to http:/ www.onemanga.com/Living Game/. The clock here still ticks,. And this clock it talks. He was not just a carpenter. Use my right to. You ar...
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メカ心の中で | Night Writer
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/2010/08/02/メカ心の中で
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. Scraps from a japanese notebook. How to build a time machine →. August 2, 2010. 誕生日 洗濯 両親の名前 とか. This entry was posted in Poetry. Scraps from a japanese notebook. How to build a time machine →. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. Notify me of new comments via email.
Night Writer | caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream | Page 2
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/page/2
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. Newer posts →. August 23, 2010. Collapsing onto this one. Clock chime and voices. Morning light a reminder of the world of waking hours. Sunlight pressing upon the eyes the presence of reality. Rousing muscle to lift bone to life and rustle through the. Warmth and softness alluring forgetfulness of what. Surrounds uncooperative eyelids and a mind. Not quite willing to yield to sunrise. To movement to thinking to. August 22, 2010.
アイ電ティてぃ・暗いsis | Night Writer
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/2010/08/21/アイ電ティてぃ・暗いsis
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. The weight of a man. August 21, 2010. This entry was posted in Poetry. The weight of a man. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out. Join 5 other followers.
Winged Epistles | Night Writer
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/2009/07/20/winged-epistles
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. Watching time in a lost place →. July 20, 2009. He writes out open invitations. To all of the friends he hasn’t met yet. And seals them up with Elmer’s glue. He’s got plans, big ones. And he stuffs them all into a big red sack. His sister even stopped counting. There were so many. He’s going to take them all up. In his sky blue biplane. And let them fly. To all the Earth. As he escapes the sun. And the stars peek out.
In the Forest Sanctum | Night Writer
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/2009/06/17/in-the-forest-sanctum
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. Hurtling Thoughts →. In the Forest Sanctum. June 17, 2009. The midday moon now hides behind the blue,. Casts light on parted shadows that emerge. And what we left still rests in river’s hues. Like petrels perched cliffside, peering off the verge. That day we took the roundest, smoothest stones. And laid them quiet in the willow shade. Beneath the sway of lazy arms, alone,. Cast all the jagged strangers back to wade. Poetry is life...
standing before an open door | Night Writer
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/2010/08/31/last-august-poem
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. Standing before an open door. August 31, 2010. Fading white like written-on pages. Lift themselves into architecture. Printed into its walls. Writing light onto before him. Writing open into a doorway. Waiting at the threshold. This entry was posted in Poetry. One response to “ standing before an open door. November 19, 2010 at 10:58 pm. The masses demand more blog posts! Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here.
breathe in | Night Writer
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/2010/08/26/coming-soon
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. August 26, 2010. To the year’s first budding sunlight. Peeks through branched steepletops. The brush of wispy rays upon the skin. And flowers, flowers praying their wishes. The air of a world at the end of a rainstorm. Swilling in the lungs. Feels like tiny water droplets. Dripping from alveoli,. Bursting beads of summer. Burning leaves in the distance. Snake a familiar aroma. Catching the cooling winds. With a nostalgic warmth.
feel motion me | Night Writer
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/2010/08/16/feel-motion-me-working-title
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. August 16, 2010. I watched them dancing. And I laughed I wanted more. A different game to play. I reach for the slip hook. To whip me through atmosphere. Cross blue to black and carry on. I fly rocket I. I break stars I slash the black vacuum. Slingshot games with gravity. I hold my fate in libra balance that. I trace between stars. While aeons watch on and on. Pressing off asteroids passing by. To slow my weightless motion. The w...
how a voice might carry | Night Writer
https://misterwander.wordpress.com/2010/08/24/momentarily
Caught in the midst of reality that begs to be dream. The Meaning of Life. Certain countryside travels →. How a voice might carry. August 24, 2010. I wanted to ask you. What fills your smile. And if in mine. If you can tell. My heart too filled with things. My mouth cannot hold. I breathe as I live. I smile when I’m happy. And when I’m sad. I get real quiet. This entry was posted in Poetry. Certain countryside travels →. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Address never made public).
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pyhrricmagitek | A fine WordPress.com site
A fine WordPress.com site. It seems we can’t find what you’re looking for. Perhaps searching can help. Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com. Blog at WordPress.com. Follow “pyhrricmagitek”. Get every new post delivered to your Inbox. Build a website with WordPress.com. Add your thoughts here. (optional).
Idle Thoughts | Not just another WordPress.com weblog
Not just another WordPress.com weblog. October 20, 2009. Told me to. And I have lots of spare time, so why not. Perhaps you’re here because you were directed from my facebook page. Maybe I told you to check this out. You may have come from the WORD! At Brown blog. You might even have found this after googling the namesake of a pyhrric victory (maybe, hopefully). In any case, welcome. Peruse around. March 9, 2010. Ahmed is my best friend. He is nice to me. I love him, and he loves me. This is a quwa.
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