From the page: "1) users who like to post poetry and philosophy posts sprinkled with art with the intention of seeming extraordinarily intelligent and profound but the outcome is mostly stupid pretentiousness;"
Yay me! Woohoo!
There was a young lady who cuss’d
(Whom magicdot looked at with lust)
Said "art can’t be familiar
With stuff by Joyce Kilmer"
While looking at you with disgust
a nice celestial (the number of which I am only guessing at) courtesy of g-gene
Recognizing the captain, so many turned upon him that they knocked his helmet off his head twice… An Indian hurled a bamboo spear into the captain’s face, but the latter immediately killed him with his lance, which he left in the Indian’s body. Then, trying to lay hand on sword, he could draw it out but halfway, because he had been wounded in the arm with a bamboo spear. When the natives saw that, they all hurled themselves upon him. One of them wounded him on the left leg with a large cutlass, which resembles a scimitar, only being larger. That caused the captain to fall face downward, when immediately they rushed upon him with iron and bamboo spears and with their cutlasses, until they killed our mirror, our light, our comfort, and our true guide. When they wounded him, he turned back many times to see whether we were all in the boats. Thereupon, beholding him dead, we, wounded, retreated, as best we could, to the boats, which were already pulling off
via Battle of Mactan – Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
I’m not woowoo, but I was researching lapu-lapu for a story not realizing it was the anniversary of the battle. The universe is scary that way.
The letter which you read comes from stolen Briseis,
Written with difficulty in Greek by her barbarian hand.
Whatever blots you see, her tears have made–
But tears, nevertheless, have the strength of a voice.
via Ovid’s Heroides.
Now all the stars have gone, as now and always
passengers glance around in wrong directions,
watching the coffee slowly pouring sideways
as if this were some newly made invention,
alternating, then exchanging fun–
Yet not knowing, how all the stars have gone.