Saturday, May 29, 2010

Kates Playground Playbo



The house is located in the red zone, the only way to get there without being arrested and escorted by firefighters. Approaching the center sensations are already strong, the abandoned apartment blocks, spread sheets flutter like ghosts. Are required for peace on deaf ears. The border between the possible and yet not a place block. Let's move on and the scenario is that of a curfew during the war. Amid the rubble of the houses still standing are deeply wounded soul, the soul that wanders and takes refuge in the eyes of those who arrive. Now the feelings become odors, musty odor, mold and dust, the smell of tears. Fire fighters are kind, they feel pain and try to work with confusion, mainly because it is so confusing that you try entering the house, your home and see that the safety, warmth and shelter have become in a few seconds destruction and fear. The unavailability is not only the walls are obstructing corners of small habits where to meet when you get lost, they are obstructing cabinets in which to search their memories when you have nostalgia, are obstructing mirrors in which we do not see each other when it is recognized more. A house is uninhabitable much, much more than what can be perceived from a newscast and we see it in his eyes that would like to be alone to re-order thoughts and the last few things. But you can not, we must go.
Mama do not cry, you'll see your roses survive.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Emu Bootsunterschied Stinger Bronte

lack



All 'start c' were music and the charm of the rebellion,
c 'were friends and the colors of the night, the first smells of life
then there' was nothing I do not know exactly
at what point, at which point
...
I lost
slowly
I found myself ...
hours I'm there
and now I find that I miss I miss
sixteen
I miss my eighteenth birthday
I miss my twenty years'
and so now that I have not even
I miss living!

Friday, May 7, 2010

How Long To Get Green Card After Wecome Letter

Everyday Is Like Sunday

Trudging slowly over wet sand
Back to the bench
Where your clothes were stolen
This is the coastal town
That they forgot to close down
Armageddon - come Armageddon!
Come Armageddon! Come!
Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey

Hide on the promenade
Etch a postcard:
"How I Dearly Wish I Was Not Here"
In this seaside town
That they forgot to bomb
Come, come, come Nuclear Bomb!
Everyday is like Sunday
Everyday is silent and grey

Trudging back over pebbles and sand
And a strange dust lands on your hands
And on your face
On your face..

Everyday is
like Sunday "Win Yourself A Cheap Tray" Share Some
grease-tea with me Everyday is silent and gray