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

Saturday, 6 October 2012

Prelude to Sense and Sacrifice


Stop preaching in tongues!
Love lost lyrics
Pulled from your lungs. 

Your hope from a fix
On a note of air.
This empty twist mix

Full of sweet despair.
Their tangled tongue dare,
My match to your flare.  
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