Oh Oscar!

The seasons send their ruin as they go,
For in the spring the narciss shows its head
Nor withers till the rose has flamed to red,
And in the autumn purple violets blow,
And the slim crocus stirs the winter snow;
Wherefore yon leafless trees will bloom again
And this grey land grow green with summer rain
And send up cowslips for some boy to mow.

But what of life whose bitter hungry sea
Flows at our heels, and gloom of sunless night
Covers the days which never more return?
Ambition, love and all the thoughts that burn
We lose too soon, and only find delight
In withered husks of some dead memory.

Oscar Wilde

She walked through the painting, out of the picture...

She walked through the painting, out of the picture

into the hallway, out of the door,
out of the elevator, down the stairs,

into the street, across the road,

between all the people, entering the station,

down underground, pushing through the crowd,

onto the train, moving so fast,

up overground, focusing her mind,

away from the city, into the field,

jumped in the grass, laid on the ground,

took the blue flower, picked off the leaves,

spreading her wings, inhaling the air,

continued her journey, into the sea,

took a deep breath, closing her eyes,

embracing the freedom, swimming downstream,

felt so good, activated her brain,

opening her eyes, staring at her bedroom ceiling,

She closed her eyes, thinking of the dream,

She walked back into the picture, once again trapped in the painting.

this is...

A man of words and not of deeds

Is like a garden full of weeds,

And when the weeds begin to grow,

It’s like a garden full of snow.

And when the snow begins to fall,

It’s like a bird upon the wall,

And when the bird away does fly,

It’s like an eagle in the sky.

And when the sky begins to roar,

It’s like a lion at the door.

And when the door begins to crack,

It’s like a stick across your back,

And when your back begins to smart,

It’s like a penknife in your heart,

And when your heart begins to bleed,

You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re dead indeed.