Pretty Things

Hieronymus Bosch

Jacques-Louis David

Monet

Van Gogh

Rodin

(all images google images)

What if

If there was a picture book with these pictures, would you read it?








And if there was a song with these lyrics, would you listen to it?


she was bored
and ready for adventure
stuck
at home again
but there was something in the air that said
you are mine
tonight

he was tall
and rough around the edges
tuned in to tune out
but a goodnight kiss
oh will he dare?
this new girl
tonight

he says hey i can't believe you like that too
she says dude, i know
she was prettily playing with her hair
whats going on
tonight

the movie's on
and hes clear over there
on the other side
of the room
she sits and tries to look lonely
while trying not, to stare

she dances quietly on the car ride back
he, drums, his hands
she leans close going round the bend
smiling down, the road

he says hey we're basically cuddling
when our arms
touch
she laughs and goes to grab his hand
he thinks you are mine
tonight
and always

Some Cotton Candy Men

Cotton Candy Man by jeancaulfield


 

If danger was a beautiful woman... I would marry her.

"I meant what I said and I said what I meant! and an Elephants faithful one hundred percent!"

I Must Belong Somewhere

Leave the bright blue door on the white-washed wall
Leave the death ledger under city hall
Leave the joyful air in that rubber ball today

Just leave the lilac print on the linen sheet
Leave the birds you killed at your father's feet
Let the sideways rain in the crooked street remain

Leave the whimpering dog in his cold kennel
Leave the dead starlet on her pedestal
Leave the acid kids in their green fishbowls today

Leave the sad guitar in its hard-shell case
Leave the worried look on your lover's face
Let the orange embers in the fireplace remain

Cause everything it must belong somewhere
Oh a train off in the distance, bicycle chained to the stairs
Everything it must belong somewhere
I know that now, that's why I'm staying here

{not} enough days of summer

  

"If there is an amateur reader still left in the world—or anybody who just 
reads and runs— I ask him or her, with untellable affection and gratitude, to split the dedication of this book four ways with my wife and children." 

J. D. Salinger, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters

Let us make the flowers our bed, and the

Sky our blanket, and rest our heads together

Upon pillows of soft hay.

Let us relax after the day's toil, and listen

To the provoking murmur of the brook.

Khalil Gibran

 

I Wish I Had a Sylvia Plath

I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
Busted tooth and a smile
And cigarette ashes in her drink
The kind that goes out and then sleeps for a week
The kind that goes out on her
To give me a reason, for well, I dunno

And maybe she'd take me to France
Or maybe to Spain and she'd ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
She'd ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then she'd get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe she'd give me a bath
How I wish I had a Sylvia Plath

And she and I would sleep on a boat
And swim in the sea without clothes
With rain falling fast on the sea
While she was swimming away, she'd be winking at me
Telling me it would all be okay
Out on the horizon and fading away
And I'd swim to the boat and I'd laugh
I gotta get me a Sylvia Plath

And maybe she'd take me to France
Or maybe to Spain and she'd ask me to dance
In a mansion on the top of a hill
She'd ash on the carpets
And slip me a pill
Then she'd get pretty loaded on gin
And maybe she'd give me a bath
How I wish I had a Sylvia Plath
I wish I had a Sylvia Plath


Ryan Adams