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Saturday, April 5, 2008

The Fate of a Mouse, or, ...Where Angels Fear To Tread, 2008

The Fate of a Mouse, or,...Where Angels Fear To Tread, 2008 The Fate of the Mouse, or, …Where Angels Fear To Tread, 2008 Listen now, "Mush" Bush I’m hopping mad, Four thousand down, And that’s just our lads. What about the injured-- Lives never be the same. What about civilians-- Ordinary mums and dads, And all the little children Burnt by bombs? You thought Saddam Just a sitting duck. All those weapons? You were out of luck. Of fat oil revenues, did You and Cheney dream, Instead our economy,... Sign in to see full entry.

Speaking to the Soul, With Not Ever a Sound

Rembrandt's Return of The Prodigal Son, 1669 "Speaking to the Soul, With Not Ever a Sound" Through lumpy, red, black, yellow oils, Layered in mellow glazes, light recoils, To write on the eye, a dark image profound, That speaks to the soul, with not ever a sound. Lurking in shadow, a marveling mum; Man crouching in wonder, counting the sum, Over the steward, dismayed older son, What holds their attention? Now come! This painter he knew, the power of all vice, Knew death takes children, lover,... Sign in to see full entry.

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