The Human Cannonball by Jean-Philippe Charbonnier, 1964
O, to be sure, we laugh less and play less and wear uncomfortable disguises like adults, but beneath the costume is the child we always are, whose needs are simple, whose daily life is still best described by fairy tales.
Oh, tonight began with anything.
Shaft of a light. A warm breath and a scream.
Ah, yeah.
Oh, tamper if you like between The Doors.
Oh yeah. Huh. Huh.
Oh, can’t expect to go out, to go out with anything, anything more.
April 18th, 2012 12:04PM
The plain state of being human is dramatic enough for anyone; you don’t need to be a heroin addict or a performance poet to experience extremity. You just have to love someone.
April 15th, 2012 4:52PM
You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.’ You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
“
| — | Eleanor Roosevelt |
April 11th, 2012 6:37PM
I seem to recognize your face
haunting, familiar, yet i can’t seem to place it
cannot find the candle of thought to light your name
lifetimes are catching up with me
all these changes taking place, i wish i’d seen the place
but no one’s ever taken me
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away…
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away…
i swear i recognize your breath
memories like fingerprints are slowly raising
me, you wouldn’t recall, for i’m not my former
it’s hard when, you’re stuck upon the shelf
i changed by not changing at all, small town predicts my fate
perhaps that’s what no one wants to see
i just want to scream…hello…
my god its been so long, never dreamed you’d return
but now here you are, and here i am
hearts and thoughts they fade…away…
hearts and thoughts they fade…away…
hearts and thoughts they fade, fade away…
hearts and thoughts they fade…
