“Belfast Tune”
Joseph Brodsky
Here’s a girl from a dangerous town.
She crops her dark hair short
so that less of her has to frown
when someone gets hurt.
She folds her memories like a parachute.
Dropped, she collects the peat
and cooks her veggies at home: they shoot
here where they eat.
Ah, there’s more sky in these parts than, say,
ground. Hence her voice’s pitch,
and her stare stains your retina like a gray
bulb when you switch
hemispheres, and her knee-length quilt
skirt’s cut to catch the squall.
I dream of her either loved or killed
because the town’s too small.
Joseph Brodsky
Here’s a girl from a dangerous town.
She crops her dark hair short
so that less of her has to frown
when someone gets hurt.
She folds her memories like a parachute.
Dropped, she collects the peat
and cooks her veggies at home: they shoot
here where they eat.
Ah, there’s more sky in these parts than, say,
ground. Hence her voice’s pitch,
and her stare stains your retina like a gray
bulb when you switch
hemispheres, and her knee-length quilt
skirt’s cut to catch the squall.
I dream of her either loved or killed
because the town’s too small.
- Music:Broken - Seether (Feat. Amy Lee)
Hello all! I am doing a research paper for one of my classes this semester and I figured that this comm might be the best place to ask this question. Does anyone know of places where I could obtain information on shipboard mutinies during the colonial period? Any information at all would be helpful - there seems to be a dearth of research on anything other than slave insurrections at the college I go to, as well as their online databases.
- Mood:
hopeful
I am doing a 50 icon challenge for the community of
episodic100. You may take as many as these as you wish, but please give credit. Feedback is always nice to have!
PLEASE NOTE: Please don't alter any of my icons. I have worked really really hard on them!!
Special Thank you to Trekcore for all the images!! :D I WUB YOU GUYS!
Icons dedicated to
halfbloodme, thanks for helping me pic my next episode. ~Hugs~ ♥

'Seven,For what's it worth, it won't be the same without you.' -Kim
PLEASE NOTE: Please don't alter any of my icons. I have worked really really hard on them!!
Special Thank you to Trekcore for all the images!! :D I WUB YOU GUYS!
Icons dedicated to
'Seven,For what's it worth, it won't be the same without you.' -Kim

13 October 2008
Some mornings, a little
Beth Orton
is the only thing which works.
Hullo, I've just posted 49 Star Trek: TOS icons over at my graphics journal,
tupperworn. Come and take a look. ♥


( I've been killed! I've definitely been killed! )


( I've been killed! I've definitely been killed! )
- Music:Tohoshinki - Break Up The Shell
Fandom:
4x The 4400
3x DS9 (Weyoun)
2x Enterprise (Shran)
1x Firefly
1x Heroes
3x Life on Mars
1x Star Trek TOS (Spock)
2x Stargate SG-1
2x Wonderfalls
2x The X Files
Misc:
5x Cartoons
6x Nature

( At My Journal )
4x The 4400
3x DS9 (Weyoun)
2x Enterprise (Shran)
1x Firefly
1x Heroes
3x Life on Mars
1x Star Trek TOS (Spock)
2x Stargate SG-1
2x Wonderfalls
2x The X Files
Misc:
5x Cartoons
6x Nature
( At My Journal )

Clone Wars Icontest Community
JOIN NOW!
"I Give You This Ghost"
Jesse Millner
of the skinny ten-year-old playing in the woods
near grandfather's farm in Burkeville, of all the moons
I watched tremble in the evening skies and the rope
swing with a tractor tire on the end of it,
the wonder of centrifugal force, the spinning
majesty of the dervish, and even though I did not know yet about Rumi,
I knew that god lived at the edge of the gaining
spiral, that the whirl of blood in my brain
matched the spin of the cosmic wheel, the one
god that rules over all of us, and infinitely so.
Even without the big tire, I'd spin
amid the lightning bugs in a Virginia dusk
when the dark fell and the stars came out,
those regions of big dippers and bears,
and with each breathless circling
I'd feel the pull of something greater
than myself—scrambled neurons,
gaping ganglia and pulsating
arteries, my body itself the scattered verse
of eons, my body electric and pierced
by bug light and cosmic night. Oh, great
god almighty, why did I capture those
little angels and trap them in a jar?
Where soon their tiny lights would fade
and only an insect would remain, where
once there had been that sweet
yellow dancing on the margins
of tobacco fields and woods that rose
and fell in the swelter, the sea of dusk.
Jesse Millner
of the skinny ten-year-old playing in the woods
near grandfather's farm in Burkeville, of all the moons
I watched tremble in the evening skies and the rope
swing with a tractor tire on the end of it,
the wonder of centrifugal force, the spinning
majesty of the dervish, and even though I did not know yet about Rumi,
I knew that god lived at the edge of the gaining
spiral, that the whirl of blood in my brain
matched the spin of the cosmic wheel, the one
god that rules over all of us, and infinitely so.
Even without the big tire, I'd spin
amid the lightning bugs in a Virginia dusk
when the dark fell and the stars came out,
those regions of big dippers and bears,
and with each breathless circling
I'd feel the pull of something greater
than myself—scrambled neurons,
gaping ganglia and pulsating
arteries, my body itself the scattered verse
of eons, my body electric and pierced
by bug light and cosmic night. Oh, great
god almighty, why did I capture those
little angels and trap them in a jar?
Where soon their tiny lights would fade
and only an insect would remain, where
once there had been that sweet
yellow dancing on the margins
of tobacco fields and woods that rose
and fell in the swelter, the sea of dusk.
22 icons from David Tennant's appearance on Top Gear, December 2007
15 icons from "Withnail & I" (starring Richard E. Grant and Paul McGann)
30 icons of Hobbits from "Fellowship of the Ring"
Preview:
Find them over here @
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“Farmhand”
James K. Baxter
You will see him light a cigarette
At the hail door careless, leaning his back
Against the wall, or telling some new joke
To a friend, or looking out into the secret night.
But always his eyes turn
To the dance floor and the girls drifting like flowers
Before the music that tears
Slowly in his mind an old wound open.
His red sunburnt face and hairy hands
Were not made for dancing or love-making
But rather the earth wave breaking
To the plough, crops slow-growing in his mind.
He has no girl to run her fingers through
His sandy hair, and giggle at his side
When Sunday couples walk. Instead
He has his awkward hopes, his envious dreams to yarn to.
But ah in harvest watch him
Forking stooks, effortless and strong —
Or listening like a lover to the song
Clear, without fault, of a new tractor engine.
James K. Baxter
You will see him light a cigarette
At the hail door careless, leaning his back
Against the wall, or telling some new joke
To a friend, or looking out into the secret night.
But always his eyes turn
To the dance floor and the girls drifting like flowers
Before the music that tears
Slowly in his mind an old wound open.
His red sunburnt face and hairy hands
Were not made for dancing or love-making
But rather the earth wave breaking
To the plough, crops slow-growing in his mind.
He has no girl to run her fingers through
His sandy hair, and giggle at his side
When Sunday couples walk. Instead
He has his awkward hopes, his envious dreams to yarn to.
But ah in harvest watch him
Forking stooks, effortless and strong —
Or listening like a lover to the song
Clear, without fault, of a new tractor engine.
- Music:Prodigal - Casting Crowns
Made for
scifi_abc
PREVIEW:

( To manufactured victory! )
Please credit
_wanderingchild, and feel free to friend me there for more icons and fandoms!
PREVIEW:

( To manufactured victory! )
Please credit
- Mood:
sick - Music:Sarah McLachlan- Building A Mystery









