music, photography

hello darkness, my old friend

…i’ve come to talk with you again,
because a vision softly creeping,
left its seeds while i was sleeping;
and the vision that was planted in my brain
still remains, with the sound of silence.

in restless dreams i walked alone,
narrow streets of cobblestone.
‘neath the halo of a streetlamp,
i turned my collar to the cold a damp,
and my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
that split the night
and touched the sound of silence.

photography, poetry

how to dress the misery in fit magnificence

Do not all charms fly
At the mere touch of cold philosophy?
There was an awful rainbow once in heaven:
We know her woof, her texture; she is given
In the dull catalogue of common things.
Philosophy will clip an Angel’s wings,
Conquer all mysteries by rule and line,
Empty the haunted air, and gnomed mine –
Unweave a rainbow, as it erewhile made
The tender-personed Lamia melt into a shade.