The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling.
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven,
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

-W.Shakespeare

Thursday 13 June 2013

Skyfall


All the world is rain, 
All the sounds are
      Showers of cold will-
      Cozy raindrops on roof of-
      The inevitable trickle 
      that will join the rivers of old
             When the rain comes down
When the rain comes down 
     it descends on my face, my hair, my clothes
My skin drinks it all, 
     I am a fish, 
     a frog, 
I am an animal of skyfall