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 Posted: Tue Jun 26, 2007 2:39 pm
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Posted: Wed Jun 27, 2007 7:31 am
i don't have any of my dads archetecal work but when i do i'l put them in here
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 9:56 am
HERE ARE MY OWN COMPOSITION, THEY ARE ALSO FOUND IN MY JOURNAL. ENJOY.
memorandum
----------------
it was the palest of the sunday.
when i get to walk a mile to glance at you
six meters away,and arrive late at home
with regrets for dinner.
when you get to sleep
with your head floating on tears,
drown yourself with hate
and wake up floating into emptiness.
when we get to whisper words of nothingness
and pamper them with our lips
as it flows through our hearts.
all these memories binded
with thorns that pierced your heart
and squeezed all the tears that's left of you..
memories that will fade,
and slowly be surreal,
and will be with your dreams for a lifetime..
the long wait
---------------
so there you were,
coiling your trust around your neck
and drowning from your own tears.
so much hope in your aloneness
and realization of pain from your past.
you tie your toes like a knot
waiting for a solemn welcome
though you already have received a goodbye the previous day.
for the next days to come,
how long should you wait?
dawn before the next day
-----------------------------
its an early Wednesday after a few hours ill be packing up my stuff have to wear something to crush my neck and be off before 12 without having a good lunch. i have nothing to write but my poetry and a note to remind me of sleeping at this hour. i kept on tapping the keyboard hoping for a good song to embrace me good night.
ANGEL
---------
it was your smile,
your stare,
the press of your lips,
warmth of your skin
your existence
that made me fall to a domain called love.
blooms hastily,
though petals rush to grey
yet buds rise from its heart.
days would never end its sunsets
once my hand touched yours.
a love story
--------------
you say you never expected it to be like this,
the wires that flatter my words,
the words that caressed your skin.
we stay away from our soul,
we have no visitors but memory.
your touch,
your kiss,
always linger like perfume.
how can you stop the heart from beating?
if every breathe i make reminds me of you,
your love was like raindrops on burnt-out hearts.
you were like a petal disconnected from a rose,
though helpless but without thorns.
you walk barefeet along the road,
the very end of your foot against the dirt
and the wind against your face.
you may seem to walk alone
but not lost
and your eyes,
still naked and lips still dry.
the more i follow you,
the more numb i become.
i was deaf for a while,
my eyes blur and all i can see was your shadow.
i saw your hand,
it came across my skin
and you took my heart away from my soul.
i was weak then,
and always helpless in your absence.
you made me fall into your beauty,
you always keep me falling deep down to your heart.
how can you really stop the heart from beating?
i have opened myself to the thought that another of you might be different and posses perhaps the willing strength to uncoil my wires of distance.
but nevertheless,
in the fields of rain,
there is a purity we can believe with seriousness.
waiting too long may be a bloody reality or the empty disappointment. such irony we have made, we tossed our words carelessly with hate and carefully with love..
one last promise before you leave
---------------------------------------
sleeping is not in my routine anymore since you said you'll be off for a while.
if i could only hold your hand tight,
you might not want to leave anymore yet your'e too distant.
drowning myself in alcohol never lessens the pain of being hurt by my own insecurities and mistrust.
too often i have heard your attempts but its all void.
too often we have argued yet it was the worst.
i'm used to pretending more than several times but not with you,
so many times i have embraced you in my dreams only to wake up
and realize it was only my pillow,
tear-stained pillow.
your kiss and lips' caress haunts me in my aloneness.
it's a start of the next day where sunday glooms the most,
a day without your presence,convincing my thoughts to hope for a change of your mind,and stay...
it was just hours since you left but it's unbearable,
how much more for a day or two?
or even weeks,
it'll be an unjust suffering missing you more than missing anyone else.
you were the heart that beats in my chest and it beats the slowest when your'e away. it could only be you who i wish to be here,
to linger with you more without inconsistency and to toss words of romance without boredom.
06/26/06
------------
i fall into an awakening
suddenly the blurry sound were the chirping of birds
i open my eyelids into an empty disappointment
staring at the pillow next to me wishing you were there laying to its comfort..
class play
------------
thin vines grew thorns among grey walls, tiny teal lilies goes through your toes..
I couldn't barely see your reflection now, your face, your eyes, covered with those strands from your scalp, touching your lips that onced kissed mine..
its not your voice that lingers in my head anymore..
depth of hate
----------------
We traveled the length and breadth of this world..
inside out upside down the blind leading the blind..
in the dark alley of desire and lust's high tower..
a man's volatile wind a woman's singed roots..
The languages we learned the food we ate..
waterfalls, animals, libraries, streetcorners..
conspiring into whose gaping precipice must it..
yawn the abyss of forgetfulness..
Vida antes de la muerte 2
------------------------------
i was smiling when you called,it was
the tone of your voice that lingers
in my head..just the thought of you
binds me to supreme merriment..your
eyes glim more than a star could
do..even just your mere smile
brought me into concrete existence
of how good it was to live in your
heart..then it was your hand holding
mine,palm to palm we made a strong
attachment no one could strain apart..
our kiss oaths a lifetime commitment
and a warm embrace as barrier against
allurement..
Vida antes de la muerte 1
-------------------------------
slowly,time runs out..enveloped
a pastel-colored towel on my back
and starting to beg for a miracle
to crash my head knowledge for
the exams the next day..got no
more than a hundred bucks for fare
and junk food tomorrow..all the
things i tend to remember,all that
i recently had in mind all lost in a sudden..
One tardy morning
----------------------
slowly,time ticks boredom
perceived the urge for haste
yet, it's still slow.
too late for sleep
too early for wake
glancing through obscure
windows for sunrise
it was so much colder
than it used to be,chimes
grew molds while gently
tossed by the wind.
squeaking of crickets
against the walls
may seem irritating
yet harmonious with dawn.
A
--------
..to the one who means the world to me..
this heart..
stamped with violence into pieces that cannot be
devised,pampered with strong aversion..
suddenly mended with your
tenderness,of sweet caress and soothing touch.
though i may not provide such elegance, yet,
doubtlessly admitted me to
your life..consider that, possibly there is
resilience in a heart
familiar even with unintended calumnies, nevertheless,
the mind and heart utters and remains to what i think is certain.
even in the deepest lament
even in most lonesome twilight
even in the gloomiest dawn..
still one name remains in my domain,in my
heart..."a......"
1:45
------
vapors rushed out as coffee rushed in my system, sinked into emptiness
and hatred flavored with bitter caffeine. why cant i see through your
heart? though it beats along with mine yet its a different blood
running through your veins. eyes aren't enough to see what the heart
act,when the heart endures and how long it would keep beating. reality
is what lies beyond the glamour life,not even a stream of perfection
remain in our emanation. your absence keeps my soul rotting,hinder my
prior obligations just to satisfy my uneasiness for your presence in
these arms of mine that once embraced your warmth.
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Posted: Mon Jul 02, 2007 12:08 pm
Maybe it's kind of lame, but I always thought this painting was amazing. When you see it up close it's startling to think how much time must have gone into it. He was truly dedicated. From the art institute of chicago website-  Influenced by the Impressionists’ experimentation with color, Postimpressionist painter Georges Seurat worked with innovative techniques. On an enormous canvas, the artist depicted city dwellers gathered at a park on La Grande Jatte (literally, "the big platter"), an island in the River Seine. All kinds of people stroll, lounge, sail, and fish in the park. Using newly discovered optical and color theories, Seurat rendered his subject by placing tiny, precise brush strokes of different colors close to one another so that they blend at a distance. Art critics subsequently named this technique Divisionism, or Pointillism. The artist visited La Grande Jatte many times, making drawings and more than 30 oil sketches to prepare for the final work. With his precise method and technique, Seurat conceived of his painting as a reform of Impressionism. The precise contours, geometric shapes, and measured proportions and distances in Seurat’s masterpiece (not to mention its monumental size) contrast significantly with the small, spontaneous canvases of Impressionism. Over the past several decades, many scholars have attempted to explain the meaning of this great composition. For some, it shows the growing middle class at leisure. Others see it as a representation of social tensions between modern city dwellers of different social classes, all of whom gather in the same public space but do not communicate or interact.
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Posted: Tue Jul 17, 2007 11:49 am
its the olempic stadeum one thing it can do is open its roof to revel more seats but its more impresev in the closed form
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2007 2:08 am
I'm back with some more pictures...this time, some one I know in real life made these pictures. It is art, not painting, not drawing, but ink art. Ian Cooper - I met him in the Victoria Inner Harbor. He was showing my friend and I how he makes his art...it is very complicated. He first, has to sketch 6 or 7 or sometimes 10 times until the sketch is perfect. After that, he takes out his ink pens (very fine tip) and he starts dotting the picture in. Literally, all his art is made out of tiny, black, ink dots. It's amazing. Ian told me it takes him months just to finish one sketch, and then to start the ink it takes another half a year or more to finish. Here is Ian Coopers official website so you can see for your self first hand what I am talking about: Transient VisionsHere are just 3 of my FAVORITE pictures that he has done: (ah yes - the parts where it is ALL black are also ALL tiny dots) HERE I AM - FULL PIC HERE I AM - DETAIL WALK ABOUT - FULL PIC WALK ABOUT - DETAIL IN THE WIND - FULL PIC IN THE WIND - DETAIL If you look in the guest book on the 2nd page, name Shelley Smiley, 24th post, that is me. Ian Cooper is such an awsome artist and ver inspiring. I thought I'd share it with my online family. heart Love Shelley (aka Sharima)
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2007 1:39 pm
Those pictures are amazing and beautiful!!
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Posted: Thu Jul 19, 2007 4:39 pm
Yeah, I know. They're so awsome. If you like them, you can even buy them on the website that I gave. It's soo cool! I'm going to buy the whole collection one day...Ahhh *dreams*
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Posted: Fri Jul 20, 2007 7:49 am
This may sound stupid but the sewing needile, without its invention we would not have clothes at all.
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Posted: Sat Jul 21, 2007 10:30 am
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Posted: Mon Jul 23, 2007 5:28 am
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 8:36 pm
Sweet! smile I love those pics! razz I like the labyrinth pic the best!
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Posted: Tue Jul 31, 2007 7:37 am
Antinanco_Nizhoni I shall submit a poem. Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom bo the sea,
That a madien there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabell Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be love bo me.
I was a child and she ws a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!-that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of those far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dessever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annavel Lee,
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annavel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the breight eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling-my darling-my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
By Edgar Allan Poe I believe this to be one of Poe's best poems. So here it is!!! Winner! Thanks for the submission!YAY! Edgar Allan Poe was one of the wrolds best writers
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Posted: Mon Aug 13, 2007 9:18 pm
The Hanging Gardens of Babylon. 
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Posted: Sun Aug 19, 2007 10:37 am
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Reply
