ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com
FT's Thought Dreams: Prairie Style
http://ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/prairie-style.html
And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They’d probably put my head in a guillotine -Robert Allen Zimmerman. Thursday, November 18, 2010. The idea he had was to put the door. Off to the side, slightly off center. Hard to detect, obscured by leaves and. Branches, hidden, nothing terribly grand. So it would blend into the landscape. And preserve cherished privacy. It was madness to keep the hall. Wide open and accessible to all,. Or even to acquaintances one step. From being strangers on a street corner,.
ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com
FT's Thought Dreams: Six Paintings, Two Women
http://ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/six-paintings-two-women.html
And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They’d probably put my head in a guillotine -Robert Allen Zimmerman. Thursday, November 18, 2010. Six Paintings, Two Women. These movies always seem to end in blood,. With bullets in the sanctuary, or swords,. A well placed ax set to root out turbulent. Consciences that won’t blink, stutter,. Stammer a weak retort or feeble line. The hero almost never dies at ninety in. Bed with a deep thought or well placed quip. No, it’s a freakish disease that comes before.
ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com
FT's Thought Dreams: Bus People Redux
http://ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/bus-people-redux.html
And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They’d probably put my head in a guillotine -Robert Allen Zimmerman. Friday, November 19, 2010. I can not give like the bus people give. I can not love like the gym dogs love. I live with them as a crow among. Cardinals or the mourning dove singing. His dirge as the lilacs come to life. Like an old spinster aunt, treated polite,. Deferentially, kindly if a bit superfluous,. With her Bichon Frise in a t-shirt. I walk through the corridors giving.
ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com
FT's Thought Dreams: Don Cheadle
http://ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/conversation.html
And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They’d probably put my head in a guillotine -Robert Allen Zimmerman. Monday, November 15, 2010. Her clear blue eyes were transparent. Pathways into an ancient soul,. Burdened with newsprint and torture. The pimply baby fat of her cheeks. Pointed to the years still to be scarred. By the rantings of mad pisspot emperors. She spoke of a tyrant rigging an election,. Unapologetically public, a matter of course,. With extortion, murder and the lash. Know that I was once...
ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com
FT's Thought Dreams: The Long Hello
http://ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/long-hello.html
And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They’d probably put my head in a guillotine -Robert Allen Zimmerman. Friday, November 19, 2010. It is a rambling paragraph of sentences. Made up of long goodbyes. There can be no intense reflection. On the things cast aside. If you want it to flow,. And get on with the next chapter. Some liken it to drinking the desert,. All sand and cactus needles,. A glass at a time. Parched, pinched with a wicked thirst. Begging for a drop of water. Like a hobo for a dime.
ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com
FT's Thought Dreams: November 2010
http://ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html
And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They’d probably put my head in a guillotine -Robert Allen Zimmerman. Friday, November 19, 2010. It is a rambling paragraph of sentences. Made up of long goodbyes. There can be no intense reflection. On the things cast aside. If you want it to flow,. And get on with the next chapter. Some liken it to drinking the desert,. All sand and cactus needles,. A glass at a time. Parched, pinched with a wicked thirst. Begging for a drop of water. Like a hobo for a dime.
ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com
FT's Thought Dreams: Spring is Near
http://ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/spring-is-near.html
And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They’d probably put my head in a guillotine -Robert Allen Zimmerman. Thursday, November 18, 2010. Fat Tuesday passed with out a horn,. Or worthless beads being thrown. To drunken tourists by the canal. He didn’t feel like going to the. Last frenzied grasping for flesh,. Before the shriving leads to spring. He had been there before and. Knew the routine all too well. He decided that he would take. A running start into the dessert,. When the dried brittle leaves.
ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com
FT's Thought Dreams: Three Funerals
http://ftsthoughtdreams.blogspot.com/2010/11/three-funerals.html
And if my thought-dreams could be seen / They’d probably put my head in a guillotine -Robert Allen Zimmerman. Monday, November 15, 2010. How is it measured:. The distance between points,. Each step a thousand miles. Reached in an echoed whisper,. Through cold water flats. And shotgun shacks,. On street corner bus stops,. Or behind shades,. Sung to fevered babies. The wet dew frozen. Freezes once lush blades,. Now brittle and crushed. Under once confident steps,. Become halted and heavy. Flesh of my flesh,.