Death from above
A cruel dry land,
In the form of a
Missile guided
By a young hand,
On a distant joystick,
Leaves a bloody
Splotch in the sand.
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Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
Blog Archive
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2012
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January
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- Drone
- We R 3
- Me Staring, And It Staring Back...
- Yakushima
- Life As Meatloaf
- Dusk, At Home
- Jehovah's? Witness
- A Good Saturday, Not Taken For Granted
- Aboriginal Wisdom
- Cold Wet A.M.
- Hookah Lounge Azul
- Do The Hustle!
- Before The Impact...
- Senyu, Haiku, Short Ones -- Morning, 14 Jan 2012
- Life Goes Better Accompanied By Music
- From A Re-reading Of "Moby Dick"
- Somewhere In Istanbul
- Chasing The Chasers
- Unimaginable Moment
- Too Busy To Learn
- Rest In Peace Steve Jobs
- Chicken As Sysiphus
- Symbiosis
- Veteran
- Reality With Bovines
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January
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