― tokyo rosemary (rosemary), Sunday, 16 November 2003 09:24 (twenty-two years ago)
http://www2.accessorize.com/files/images/99100440.jpg
― Mary (Mary), Sunday, 16 November 2003 09:36 (twenty-two years ago)
― Markelby (Mark C), Sunday, 16 November 2003 09:53 (twenty-two years ago)
― Jay Dee Sah Mon (Kingfish), Sunday, 16 November 2003 09:56 (twenty-two years ago)
― geeta (geeta), Sunday, 16 November 2003 10:03 (twenty-two years ago)
― RJG (RJG), Sunday, 16 November 2003 10:21 (twenty-two years ago)
― phil-two (phil-two), Sunday, 16 November 2003 10:22 (twenty-two years ago)
― mitch lastnamewithheld (mitchlnw), Sunday, 16 November 2003 10:38 (twenty-two years ago)
― C J (C J), Sunday, 16 November 2003 10:50 (twenty-two years ago)
― jel -- (jel), Sunday, 16 November 2003 12:21 (twenty-two years ago)
― Spencer Chow (spencermfi), Sunday, 16 November 2003 12:30 (twenty-two years ago)
― Julio Desouza (jdesouza), Sunday, 16 November 2003 12:55 (twenty-two years ago)
― Elvis Telecom (Chris Barrus), Sunday, 16 November 2003 12:58 (twenty-two years ago)
― athos magnani (Cozen), Sunday, 16 November 2003 14:14 (twenty-two years ago)
Happy Birthday!
― Carey (Carey), Sunday, 16 November 2003 14:28 (twenty-two years ago)
― Ned Raggett (Ned), Sunday, 16 November 2003 14:45 (twenty-two years ago)
― fiddo centington (dubplatestyle), Sunday, 16 November 2003 15:00 (twenty-two years ago)
― teeny (teeny), Sunday, 16 November 2003 15:22 (twenty-two years ago)
one shoulder for each of us, hombre. Happy birthday.
― Anthony Miccio (Anthony Miccio), Sunday, 16 November 2003 15:42 (twenty-two years ago)
― Madchen (Madchen), Sunday, 16 November 2003 17:15 (twenty-two years ago)
― Bryan (Bryan), Sunday, 16 November 2003 17:27 (twenty-two years ago)
― Tracer Hand (tracerhand), Sunday, 16 November 2003 17:39 (twenty-two years ago)
― mark s (mark s), Sunday, 16 November 2003 17:52 (twenty-two years ago)
― athos magnani (Cozen), Sunday, 16 November 2003 17:54 (twenty-two years ago)
― youn, Sunday, 16 November 2003 17:56 (twenty-two years ago)
― felicity (felicity), Sunday, 16 November 2003 17:58 (twenty-two years ago)
― bnw (bnw), Sunday, 16 November 2003 18:27 (twenty-two years ago)
― Anthony Miccio (Anthony Miccio), Sunday, 16 November 2003 18:40 (twenty-two years ago)
― Anthony Miccio (Anthony Miccio), Sunday, 16 November 2003 18:41 (twenty-two years ago)
― cinniblount (James Blount), Sunday, 16 November 2003 18:44 (twenty-two years ago)
― Andrew Farrell (afarrell), Sunday, 16 November 2003 23:05 (twenty-two years ago)
― bnw (bnw), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:13 (twenty-one years ago)
next year mang.
― albert pujols (gygax!), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:16 (twenty-one years ago)
― Ned Raggett (Ned), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:17 (twenty-one years ago)
A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and ThouBeside me singing in the Wilderness--Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
― Archel (Archel), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:20 (twenty-one years ago)
― MindInRewind (Barry Bruner), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:23 (twenty-one years ago)
― Freelance Hiveminder (blueski), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:26 (twenty-one years ago)
― lauren (laurenp), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:27 (twenty-one years ago)
― Leon the Fratboy (Ex Leon), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:27 (twenty-one years ago)
― Yanc3y (ystrickler), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:30 (twenty-one years ago)
― Allyzay Science Explosion (allyzay), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:41 (twenty-one years ago)
― Michael White (Hereward), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:51 (twenty-one years ago)
― aimurchie, Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:56 (twenty-one years ago)
― Julio Desouza (jdesouza), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 17:56 (twenty-one years ago)
― bnw (bnw), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:11 (twenty-one years ago)
― cºzen (Cozen), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:11 (twenty-one years ago)
― cºzen (Cozen), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:12 (twenty-one years ago)
― bnw (bnw), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:17 (twenty-one years ago)
When you consider the radiance, that it does not withholditself but pours its abundance without selection into everynook and cranny not overhung or hidden; when you consider
that birds' bones make no awful noise against the light butlie low in the light as in a high testimony; when you considerthe radiance, that it will look into the guiltiest
swervings of the weaving heart and bear itself upon them,not flinching into disguise or darkening; when you considerthe abundance of such resource as illuminates the glow-blue
bodies and gold-skeined wings of flies swarming the dumpedguts of a natural slaughter or the coil of shit and in noway winces from its storms of generosity; when you consider
that air or vacuum, snow or shale, squid or wolf, rose or lichen,each is accepted into as much light as it will take, thenthe heart moves roomier, the man stands and looks about, the
leaf does not increase itself above the grass, and the darkwork of the deepest cells is of a tune with May bushesand fear lit by the breadth of such calmly turns to praise.
― David R. (popshots75`), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:25 (twenty-one years ago)
― Spencer Chow (spencermfi), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:28 (twenty-one years ago)
http://www.teddrewes.com/images/Library/SmallStrawberryShort.jpg
― teeny (teeny), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:36 (twenty-one years ago)
― jel -- (jel), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:39 (twenty-one years ago)
― miccio (miccio), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 18:42 (twenty-one years ago)
― bnw (bnw), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 19:01 (twenty-one years ago)
Love Poem
Under that leaking skythe color of dead soulswhere the snow is always grayon asphalt and cementand obscure birdsof dubious originseldom singor never sing at allin the naked elms-we found, somehow, you and I,through the confusionand brutal dullnessof the city falling in its sickness-the shock of something wildand secret, almost forgotten’that flows through eyes and nerves like fire-yes, you and I,in the good sweet luckof our coming together.
On the Birth of My Son(After su Tubg-p’o)
Most fathers, when they have a son,hope the boy will prove intelligent.But I, through misapplied intelligence,have wrecked my whole life,and therefore hope my sonwill grow up ignorant,stupid and dull.That way he’ll lead a tranquil lifeas a public administrator,college president,or United States Senator.
Benedicto
Benedicto: May your trails be crooked, winding,lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazingviews. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meanderingthrough pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, pasttemples and castles and poets’ towers into a darkprimeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl,through miasmal and mysterious swamps and downinto the desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottoes of endless stone, and downagain into a deep vast ancient unknown chasm wherebars of sunlight blaze on profiled cliffs, where deerwalk across white sand beaches, where stormscome and go as lightening clangs upon the high crags,where something strange and more beautiful and morefull of wonder than you deepest dreams waits foryou-beyond that next turning of the canyon walls.So long.
― gabbneb (gabbneb), Tuesday, 16 November 2004 21:07 (twenty-one years ago)
I hope you had a very happy birthday and I hope f gave you something as nice as I suggested she should.
― RJG (RJG), Wednesday, 17 November 2004 23:37 (twenty-one years ago)
― Mary (Mary), Wednesday, 17 November 2004 23:49 (twenty-one years ago)
― bnw (bnw), Thursday, 18 November 2004 00:32 (twenty-one years ago)
― geeta (geeta), Thursday, 18 November 2004 02:43 (twenty-one years ago)
― youn, Thursday, 18 November 2004 16:54 (twenty-one years ago)