thedansemacabre10.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 10: October 12, 1935 – September 6, 2007
http://thedansemacabre10.blogspot.com/2007/09/il-principe-ignoto-nessun-dorma-nessun.html
As in, X). October 12, 1935 – September 6, 2007. Tu pure, o Principessa,. Nella tua fredda stanza. Che tremano d'amore e di speranza. Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,. Il nome mio nessun saprà! No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò,. Quando la luce splenderà! Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio. Che ti fa mia. Il nome suo nessun saprà. E noi dovrem, ahimè, morir, morir! Dilegua, o notte! Even you, o Princess, in your cold room,. Watch the stars, that tremble with love and with hope. The Chorus of women.
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Danse Macabre 10: EVA ZEISEL: Beset and Bewitched by History by Joyce Corbett
http://thedansemacabre10.blogspot.com/2007/08/something-visual-here_01.html
As in, X). EVA ZEISEL: Beset and Bewitched by History by Joyce Corbett. What do you say to a Living Legend? On meeting Eva: It is hard to connect this beautiful, frail person with the iconic Eva. She begins the conversation with her famous: “Now tell me about YOU! 8221; Instead of my interviewing her, she has interviewed me! And she has offered us everything.what more can you ask? We like to tell our heroes how much we admire their work. When they ask “what about YOU? 8221; Her natural curiosity about ev...
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Danse Macabre 10: LOHENGRIN
http://thedansemacabre10.blogspot.com/2007/08/lohengrin.html
As in, X). The miracle of the Grail - Lohengrin is chosen to be the protector of the king's daughter Elsa of Brabant. Wall painting by Wilhelm Hauschild. Legend is the continuation of the Parzival. The swan knight of the Holy Grail then marries the king's daughter Elsa. Tapestry painting by A. V. Heckel. Treulich geführt ziehet dahin,. Wo euch der Segen der Liebe bewahr'! Siegreicher Mut, Minnegewinn. Eint euch in Treue zum seligsten Paar. Streiter der Tugend, schreite voran! Faithfully guided, draw near.
thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 17: Joshua D. Miner
http://thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com/2008/05/joshua-d-miner.html
Joshua D. Miner. Al Nihaya or The End. 8220; . . e. Ven under anesthesia the monkeys blinked . . .”. A Wired News article, scrolled halfway through, showed on the dimmed screen of a Dell XPS 3.030 laptop not currently plugged into a power source – but no soul was there to view it, for the quiet American who had been reading was now at the window. STITCH. STITCH. STITCH. 8220;Christ – already I’ve got something on my jacket. My black Jiuche Diesel jacket. How long have I had it? 8220;True. And yesR...
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Danse Macabre 17: Felicia Florine Campbell
http://thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com/2008/05/felicia-florine-campbell.html
This is a cautionary tale. Beware of Stick Men. You cannot hear their bones rattle when they walk. You cannot see their darkness when they talk. Coffee will not satisfy them. Where they feed is desolation. The Stick Man probed the edge of her mind. It was a delicious crispy cookie, fresh from the oven. "Hi, I haven't seen you here before. Welcome to the family." He leaned toward her, his voice soft, approving, very different from Jeff's. Could the dingy surroundings reflect the spirit of their owner?
thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 13: LATE BLOOMERS a Poem by Steven Kilpatrick
http://thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com/2007/10/late-bloomers-poem-by-steven-kilpatrick.html
LATE BLOOMERS a Poem by Steven Kilpatrick. These grovel churned damp soil to life. The flower off the grave. Fans a nocent scent. That rises, lurks and stumbles like the rose. Neighborly smiles borne flesh that’s torn—yet terribly craven. These grovel churned damp soil to life. The flower off the grave. Reanimates the starving. Drowned among rust shoveled waves. Tollways of dust-trod-empty-feet dance death in body’s clothes. These grovel churned damp soil to life. The flower off the grave. Menu de la lune.
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Danse Macabre 17: Taylor Collier
http://thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com/2008/05/taylor-collier.html
Ed had invited Robert over for dinner Saturday night so Robert could fix Ted’s computer. Linda had just finished preparing the meal when Robert knocked on the front door. Ted knew Robert from work, but Robert had never met Linda. He came in and shook hands with both of them. 8220;Hope you like your steaks with a little pink in them, Robert,” Linda said, ushering everyone into the kitchen. 8220;Everything looks and smells great,” Robert said. 8220;Wait till you taste it,” Ted said. 8221; Ted asked. 8220;S...
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Danse Macabre 13: OCTOBER a Sonnet by Robert David Michael Cerello
http://thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com/2007/10/october-sonnet-by-robert-david-michael.html
OCTOBER a Sonnet by Robert David Michael Cerello. How diff'rent October- whose energy is dark,. Writing its change in stricken leaves of red,. In gusts, grey clouds' lines, blue sky (intense),. Of urgency spurring actions. If Spring's bright. Are glints of morning sun on wavelets thrown,. Autumn is shadows cloak'd in a brilliance; haste. Measuring acts with sinews; time's fleeting days'. Speaking commands of frost from bright Danger's. October can lull; but past its summer cloak,. Menu de la lune. DM 2 -...
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Danse Macabre 13: MAGNIFICAT a Poem by Elizabeth I. Riseden
http://thedansemacabre13.blogspot.com/2007/10/magnificat-poem-by-elizabeth-i-riseden.html
MAGNIFICAT a Poem by Elizabeth I. Riseden. Sierra and Sage stand. On the upended blue tub. Arms reaching, harvesting. I rush, mold quick cookies. To celebrate Mothers Day. Why don’t I stop? Picking, worshiping apple pink. Outdoors more than indoor. Distractions; barrel, blossoms,. Gray day warm enough to pick;. Oven, sugar, fat, flour. Chocolate, stirred in a frenzy. Of forgetting that we work. In fragility- -shaping, mixing, picking- -. While the kids’ war-. Deployed Daddy could be dead. Menu de la lune.
thedansemacabre10.blogspot.com
Danse Macabre 10: THREE POEMS by William Thompson
http://thedansemacabre10.blogspot.com/2007/08/thompson-poetry.html
As in, X). THREE POEMS by William Thompson. The Redemption: Sunny Days. Today is my bright sunny day. From whence does my sunshine come. Is it from some shiney tiara. From a gambling ladys golden crown. But you are not the casino snowqueen. In Ontarios frozen tundra breeze. Youve always been an angel in the snow. Its your halo that brings my sunshine to me. Her wooly hood is her tiara. Her royal gowns a pair of jeans. As she plays all the courtly jesters. Wink and say "god save the queen". Cause I didn't...
