Where The Wild Things Are

http://www.hulu.com/watch/64652/movie-trailers-where-the-wild-things-are


I'm excited for this new movie. Looks promisingly fun

W.Z.

There's a cork by the letter I left you
it's the one that I undressed alone
when you wake up and read this letter
don't bother to look I'll be gone.
After half of a bottle of white zinfandel
I'd made up my mind to go on
and when the sun hits your eyes in the morning
you'll be waking alone with the dawn
I met you when I was a child
I chose not to act all my age
But for me you had loved every moment
that I stood in the spotlight on stage
With the stroke of each letter a tear falls freely
and I fear there were too many lies
my complexion has dried up completely
and there's cracks in the trail of my eyes
After drinking a bottle of white zinfandel
there was not a drop left of me
I had drunk all my feelings until the bottle was well
I drank it until you were free
There's a ring from my hand on this letter
it's gold and its crying for me
it shines like the friend it always was
as I bid it farewell to thee
There's a ring from a cork on this letter
it's red like the wine from the glass
but my veins keep on spilling over and over
and my life like the night soon shall pass.
There's a cork by the letter I left you
it's naked on the counter for thee
I left it after drinking myself
To let you know that you are free.

Sonata's Moonlit Touch

It is the late nights in the dark of our minds
where creation peers.
The moonlight sonata strikes a match against my heart
and blows out the light with winters chill.
Sorrow lines the walls, begins to seep from every pore
the music of the night lingers over every painful stroke
fingers broken in the moonlight
aching bones crack in its shadow
light flows like tears over the moors
the marshes overflow with melancholy
and mist pours up in a swell of frailty.

check it out. My many many followers....

http://www.ted.com/index.php/talks/elizabeth_gilbert_on_genius.html

Light Approaches

The spring stars I pity.
they mean nothing in the city.
The summer nights
show no twinkled lights
Winter chills' forgotten lulls,
brings no comfort in throbbing bulbs
Fall has lost its flaring flame
that the smoggy dirty cities tame
Be still, life.
Be quick, death.
Leave nothing of me
Nothing of me left.
Take me to the edge of a forest
nevermind just where it is.
To a mountain top afar
no smoke from the homes
no sounds from a car
Let me be taken in
Natures eyes to gaze upon
and let me be ignored again
To sit alone and watch the dawn.