Monday, November 29, 2004
The World According to the Village Idiot
- Around the World -Life Everywhere but Here
- Take Me Home - My Homepage!
- Caroline: Deadroses
- Chantel: A Philosophical Theologian
- Jens: The Scorpion King
- Jon: Really cool kid in CII with me
- Meggers: My 'bestest' friend!
- Paul: Everybody knows Wosty!
- Raven: Need I say more?
- Val: My cute little sis!
- Giving Thanks for What You've Got
- A Rude Surprise at 9 am
- Passions
- Be Careful What You Wish For
- Fruit Loops
- Sunscreen Helps
- The Paperclip, again
- Clippit: The Bottomless Pit of Wisdom and Information
- Clippit's Words of Wisdom
- Kindergarten
Members of My (Not So)Distant Village
Previous Posts
Cathedrals are not built along the sea;
The tender bells would jangle on the hoar
And iron winds; the graceful turrets roar
With bitter storms the long night angrily;
And through the precious organ pipes would be
A low and constant murmur of the shore
That down those golden shafts would rudely pour
A mighty and a lasting melody.
And those who knelt within the gilded stalls
Would have vast outlook for their weary eyes;
There, they would see high shadows on the walls
From passing vessels in their fall and rise.
Through gaudy widows there would come too soon
The low and splendid rising of the moon.
-Wallace Stevens
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