steely - phil

A lot of questions, Number One. Damn few answers.

Filled with mingled cream and amber, I will drain that glass again. Such hilarious visions clamber Through the chamber of my brain. Quaintest thoughts, queerest fancies Come to life and fade away. What care I how time advances; I am drinking ale today.

Man, being reasonable, must get drunk. The best of life is but intoxication.

Since I grew weary of the search I taught myself to find instead Since cross winds caused my ship to lurch I sail with all winds straight ahead.

Beautiful the chance that our souls may never die.

Even yet thou art to me No bird but an invisible thing A voice, a mystery.

Then we sat on the sand for some time and observed How the oceans that cover the world were perturbed By the tides from the orbiting moon overhead ‘How relaxing the sound of the waves is,’ you said. I began to expound upon tidal effects When you asked me to stop, looking somewhat perplexed. So I did not explain why the sunset turns red And we watched the occurrence, in silence, instead.

At once a voice arose among The bleak twigs overhead In a full-hearted evensong Of joy illimited; An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small, In blast-beruffled plume, Had chosen thus to fling his soul Upon the growing gloom. So little cause for carolings Of such ecstatic sound Was written on terrestrial things Afar or nigh around, That I could think there trembled through His happy good-night air Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew And I was unaware.

Live your life in such a way that when your feet hit the floor in the morning Satan shutters and says “Oh shit… he’s awake!”