Every Season
Every season,
especially, fall,
flowers and leaves,
will tumble, all.
Every season,
especially, fall,
flowers and leaves,
will tumble, all.
What once was so great,
Is no longer there.
It simply vanished
Into the Winter air.
A lack of sleep will be
the death of me.
It will be
for an eternity.
It's not OK, that on this night,
I sleep for an hour, no more.
My brain is fried yet keeps
Spewing words until my ears roar.
Writing more nonsense about,
A door or words
Sleeping on the floor.
What's next, I ask
On bended knee,
As I wrestle with my sanity.
Please let me
Get some sleep,
Or this will soon
Be the end of me.
Round about,
no matter,
what its name,
is still a silly,
adult game.
NASA Astronomy Picture of the Day:
The twenty galaxies arrayed in these panels are part of an ambitious astronomical survey of tidal stellar streams. Each panel presents a composite view; a deep, inverted image taken from publicly available imaging surveys of a field that surrounds a nearby massive galaxy image. The inverted images reveal faint cosmic structures, star streams hundreds of thousands of light-years across, that result from the gravitational disruption and eventual merger of satellite galaxies in the local universe. Such surveys of mergers and gravitational tidal interactions between massive galaxies and their dwarf satellites are crucial guides for current models of galaxy formation and cosmology. Of course, the detection of stellar streams in the neighboring Andromeda Galaxy and our own Milky Way also offers spectacular evidence for ongoing satellite galaxy disruption within our more local galaxy group.
Do you perceive
a new change in life,
where you will marry
and have a new wife?
Don't be worried,
don't be scared,
gather your things and
be prepared.
Racing down,
Canyon Road,
speeding now,
just a load
of teen-age souls,
bent on finding Hell,
as they raced against
a clock which told,
if you succeed,
you will never get old,
for you will be part of
infamy. But do not worry,
you will be remembered
in the only verse,
when They gather you up
for the final ride,
in the hearse
No matter
what is said,
once you're gone,
your still dead.
Bruno Catalano is a French Sicilian artist born in Morocco in 1960. When he was 15, he left his homeland and arrived in Marseille. At the age of twenty, he became a sea traveler, working on boats. In 1990, He started working in sculptures. In 2004, a casting accident created a gap in his work and the artist decided to make this "tear" a central element of his sculptures. You can now find his work all over the world, some in permanent locations and some as part of temporary exhibits in different cities.
His "incomplete" sculptures of men and women, luggage in hand, moving ahead in unknown directions, have been interpreted by many as traveling humans carrying their "baggage" and showing the "emptiness" left by whatever they left behind, as they moved on their life journey. More
When love,
hits you in the eye,
like a big piece of pie,
that's abuse.
No grave to day,
to dance upon,
so you may choose
to move along.
Come back tomorrow,
if you must dance,
for I am certain,
you'll have another chance.
When the day is gone,
when the nights grown cold
I remember when
we all grew old.
Serving Stanwood, Camano Island, South Skagit County, and North Snohomish.
olsonplumbingservice.com - 425-504-0224