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Anger |
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Anger.
The strength of steel, cold and blue, went in an envelope of pain. Piercing through piercing through piercing through the flesh.
Anger, must you come to fools with traditions of yesterday? We did not seem to wander far. Must you blame with your steel and fire?
The mystic life or stars and breath of water flowing then flowers a-growing. Why man, he only sees but death, and fashions his hot steel glowing?
Anger, must you come to fools with traditions of yesterday? We did not seem to wander far. Must you blame with your steel and fire?
I saw the planets wend their way above mans' sense-filled local sights. For in mans' blood pumps an ocean spray; too loud, mans' finite plights.
Anger, must you come to fools with traditions of yesterday? We did not seem to wander far. Must you blame with your steel and fire?
--Fine art, digital art, music, several voice introductions by me about my work, articles about my artwork and other topics such as sociology, the cosmos, economics, education, medicine, mathematics, poetry, humor, something I call premonitions, and a series about covered bridges, all by yours truly, the webmaster, Paul A.L. Hall. There are feedback, a website search engine, and exhaustive contents pages. Plus my weblogs are on site, an art school and classes.
Anger, must you come to fools with
traditions of yesterday?
April 07, 2005 |