Let's go

Broken

Something is broken inside of me.

Literature says it better

Fragile Broken Things

Poem of the day: Study for Salome Dancing Before Herod

Eric Pankey

Study for Salome Dancing Before Herod

In the movement toward disappearance,
She is pulled by an undertow of ecstasy.
She wakes in a room where she never fell asleep.
A thousand starlings leaf-out a bare tree.
She wakes in a dusky, tenebrous zone.
Evening on the ridges and in the mountains,
But light still spills on the valley floor.
What transport brought her here?
The shape of gravity embodies a pear on the table.
Here time is the only sovereign.
She is like an arrow slipped from its quiver.

Labours of love: End of The Road

http://issuu.com/endoftheroad/docs/english_issue_1?mode=embed&layout=http://skin.issuu.com/v/light/layout.xml&showFlipBtn=true

Here it is, at last and it looks so good :)

I'm so proud to announce one of my new projects and a true labour of love. It's a new metal magazine (End of The Road) I was invited to be a part of by someone I can now can a friend, Ekin. He is the editor and the nicest person you'll ever meet. This is the first article I ever wrote about anything. I had only written poems up til now. It was a good start, I think. It's always a good day when you get to have total creative freedom to write about the music you love and listen to everyday. As you might know, I'm a sort of a metal geek, so to me, this was a kind of dream come true. I get to write about whatever I want? I'm in. Besides, I would never do it if I didn't feel I had a safe environment behind me. I even had my little one (Regina) join our team, so that makes the whole experience even better.

The link is right there, read it, pass it unto your friends and enemies (why not?). If you like metal, you absolutely have to read it, if you want to know more about metal, it's a good way to start. And if you're just curious, don't let fear stop you.

The first issue of End of The Road came to fruition. To its sucess. \m/

Classic Poems: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Robert Frost

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.