Thursday, July 24, 2014

Deaths And Entrances

Image by:(

Deaths And Entrances

By:Dylan Thomas(

On almost the incendiary eve
Of several near deaths,
When one at the great least of your best loved
And always known must leave
Lions and fires of his flying breath,
Of your immortal friends
Who'd raise the organs of the counted dust
To shoot and sing your praise,
One who called deepest down shall hold his peace
That cannot sink or cease
Endlessly to his wound
In many married London's estranging grief.

On almost the incendiary eve
When at your lips and keys,
Locking, unlocking, the murdered strangers weave,
One who is most unknown,
Your polestar neighbour, sun of another street,
Will dive up to his tears.
He'll bathe his raining blood in the male sea
Who strode for your own dead
And wind his globe out of your water thread
And load the throats of shells
with every cry since light
Flashed first across his thunderclapping eyes.

On almost the incendiary eve
Of deaths and entrances,
When near and strange wounded on London's waves
Have sought your single grave,
One enemy, of many, who knows well
Your heart is luminous
In the watched dark, quivering through locks and caves,
Will pull the thunderbolts
To shut the sun, plunge, mount your darkened keys
And sear just riders back,
Until that one loved least
Looms the last Samson of your zodiac.

My Vastly Underrated Pear

Image by:(

My Vastly Underrated Pear

By:Tom Hyam(

We all enjoy the apple, grape and cherry
We all eat the orange, as if it was air
We never forget our favorite berry
But what about the bulging pear?

As I remove the banana from the cut glass
I leave my poor little pear
like countless others, in this worldwide farce
It lies alone in its cut glass lair

I taste the banana, long, firm, almost white
But I see it's mournful green spotted eye
I have finally realized the lonesome plight
Like some old, forgotten half baked pie

I place the Banana down upon the table
and I grip my long forgotten Pear
Like a scene from an old story or fable
I engage the fruit in my lustful stare

I pierce the skin with my long sharp teeth
I hold the fruit, now naked and bare
I re-discover the joy that lied beneath
I am sorry, my vastly underrated pear.

Friday, May 23, 2014



By:Rudyard Kipling(
Image/s by:(

(‘Brother Square-Toes’—Rewards and Fairies)

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Thursday, March 13, 2014



By:mia gerstad(
Image/s by:(

Don’t panic, breathe. Don’t stress. I've got to find a gift for her, come on. What a horrible smell, puke. She will probably just give me soap, anyway. It’s getting dark outside. Make up? Does she like blue, dark green, purple? Maybe I could get her a sandwich, don’t be daft, oh, I should have eaten. Those bottles of shampoo are staring at me. Jingle bells... I’m getting dizzy, so many things, big, small, huge. I should be working on my essay; no, I need to find her that gift. I know what she likes, for goodness sake. Price tags. Too expensive, too cheap. How much money have I got in my account? Teddy bears that smell of perfume. We're not children any more. I hated my childhood. Stop pushing me, you old hag. She might like that. Let go of it! She looks like a badger. I must get something to eat, mustn't forget to call Mum on Skype. Stop grinning at me. I'd like to punch you in the face. I want chocolate.

She likes necklaces, how about that one? It’s tacky. I hate gold, I really do. I could buy her some chocolate? God I’m so hot, I need to get this woolly jumper off. I could have gone online shopping: this is like shopping in a jungle. Poor woman she’s got four small children. Brats. Maybe she would like My Little Pony? Oh, she does love Hello Magazine, ouch I cut myself.

I wonder what Mum and Dad will get me for Christmas. Walking in a winter wonderland... I want a cream cracker with cheese and a big glass of wine. Five pounds, ten pounds. I need a cup of tea. I wish it were Halloween so I could scare you people to death! Maybe she would like a parrot; she loves birds. I need to find some gift paper.

Why is there war in Syria? My stomach is rumbling even louder. I should do my secret Santa as well. What will she get me? Something really nice, maybe. I shouldn't spend my money on her, she hates me. Why does Frodo Baggins leave the shire? Why don’t I leave this shop? I should get her a card. Not much choice, half-naked men with Christmas hats covering their privates, good grief. I should go the gym more often. Maybe a card with holly on it. Christmassy. Tick, tock, damn you stupid clock. Maybe a tube of lip-gloss? She hates pink. I need to take my dog for a walk. She likes music. I must tidy my room. Maybe a perfume that smells of apples? I need some new socks. Her favourite colour is blue.

Another Christmas song! Play something else. I could get her an iTunes gift card? I must stop biting my nails. Getting darker outside. Gloves? She does like hand cream. I need a longer skirt. So many creams. I hate goats. Essay. I must charge my Mac. I could get her the One Direction DVD. Why did Taylor dump Harry? Earrings too big. Maybe I should colour my hair blue. She hates big rings. I wish I could dance like Jennifer Lopez. I know she will comment if it is cheap. I’m starving. A Dalek poster? I should eat more fruit and veg. It’s Christmas, I could get her a box of Quality Street. Miley Cyrus is such a slut. This will do. She will gain weight. I would really like to go to Australia one day. Just five minutes till closing time. I should have got a handbag. Why does my advent calendar have such small chocolates? Do I want a bag? Debit card in. Money paid. Why is she smiling? I need to go to bed earlier. Remove card. God he's breathing heavily. Your breath stinks. Thank you. My clothes need to be washed. Will she like her present?

Damn, I forgot my woolly hat. My scarf is strangling me. Christmas songs on the brain. I must find a man. Two hundred words to go on the essay. I must exercise in January. I must get a new coat, what are you looking at? I’m starving. I need to sit down. I’m broke. Stop singing at me, stupid children's choir. Should I take a Master? Would that help? I hate snow. My life sucks. That bench looks horrible. Man in Santa suit is winking at me. He is! Dirty old man. Oh damn, my feet are aching. Spoiled brat. Stop staring at me, kid. My favourite programme is on, damn it. God I'm glad I don't live on campus any more. I love karaoke. I need a small shot of vodka. I need to pee. I must remember to buy more bread. Fifty pence on the ground, I’m rich, I must leave it where I found it. My headaches are getting worse; nobody likes me.

I will finish the essay tonight. Bibliography. Keats or Austen? I must diet, no I’m thin enough, come on move. I hate walking past choirs, singing holy this and holy that, why don’t you just shut up, wow the Christmas tree is beautiful. I love that dress in the window. I forgot my gloves. Who cares? Mum. I must buy a new printer. I don’t want to go home, I hate you all. My ankle! Ouch, that hurt, please don’t look at me, I must look stupid. Oh God, there he comes... He hasn’t even noticed me. I hate that bimbo. I need to get up the hill. I’m so out of shape. I hate you drunks. I need a drink. I wonder what would happen if I lay down and died? They wouldn’t care. Stupid feet, stop aching, I must find another bench, God bless the person who put benches here. I’m so hungry, stomach please stop rumbling. I want something sweet. Stupid lid. God, that Quality Street is good.