Your Daily Paws

Day: September 1, 2007

  • Spam-Oct 1, 2007 7:13 PM

    from: Lina Raines
    time: Oct 1 (13 hours ago)
    to: flynnparadox@gmail.com
    date: Oct 1, 2007 7:13 PM
    subject: creative suite 3 premium save – $1529.1

    Snow haze gleams like sand.
    To reach out into its own vanishing
    Comes up with as a means to its own end.
    II. List of Franklin Search Parties
    And then I go on until I am beneath an archway,
    That open before me? What I see
    The pain of being born into matter.
    Its consciousness of my white consciousness,
    Winds blow sharp, what then?
    Down the road, at Cypress Gardens, a woman
    As if your human shape were what the storm
    XIX. Jones Sound and Beaufort Sea
    “Be off!” say Winter’s snows;
    By the design of our own silent eyes
    The road, but not far enough ahead
    VIII. Russia: The Great Northern Expedition
    Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
    Dismal, endless plain—
    One flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast;

  • Spam-Sep 1, 2007 3:52 PM

    from: Jamaal Hawkins
    time: 3:52 pm (7 hours ago)
    to: flynngrrl@gmail.com
    date: Sep 1, 2007 3:52 PM
    subject: Adobe CS3 Extended

    Sphinx of questioning substance, or a sort
    Dismal, endless plain—
    Out of the picture of life, as it were, out
    Place of absorbing snow, itself to be
    I know,
    there’s a pulpy orange-y smell from juice factories….
    to restaurants for Early Bird Specials.
    Like an old soldier, wakeful, in his tent!
    The line between the outside and this room
    and turn it into something cartoon-funny.
    To pick up even the quickening of wind
    Empty streets I come upon by chance,
    Seized from creation by nonentity,
    By bloody pool—rattling, gasping his last.
    and turn it into something cartoon-funny.
    By bloody pool—rattling, gasping his last.
    then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.
    on their own little seat cushions, wearing soft caps
    The flakes which have stolen onto the flagstones

  • 20070901-Pet Peeves

    Repetition of action, words or deed:
    Harvest and slaughter, as survival feed
    Hail Mary, Our Father, Apostles’ Creed
    Drinking while driving, alcoholic need
    Cigar or cigarette and smoking weed
    Shopping till dropping, fashionable bleed
    Online blogs, forum chats, blind dating breed

    Detail-oriented, caring too much:
    Nitpicking fuzz balls, ironing and such
    Nagging and whining, overdrive clutch
    Complaining bad food, not paying go dutch
    Keep everyone in place, mother hen clutch
    Vice grip on freedom, painful to the touch
    Victimized train wreck, emotional crutch

    Nasty     to the five senses and beyond:
    Serene to noisy, ripples in the pond
    Rail thin to moo cow, feeding frenzy fond
    Fleshy and bloody, waving magic wand
    Speed up and slow down, sleepy traffic yawned
    Young thugs to old farts, female or male bond
    Soul suckers, lab ratters, aliens spawned

    All     the confusion, shatter illusion:
    No god to One kind, faithful infusion
    Social unity, lonely seclusion
    Blissful ignorance, knowledge diffusion
    Marriage to money, honey transfusion
    Loving and sharing, blessed conclusion
    Always pondering, all one delusion

    Another attempt at a partial and forever incomplete ‘list poem’ (of three, seven-lined stanzas with ten syllables in the easy but my all time favorite rhyme scheme — monorhyme) about everything conceivably annoying to me – hum.

    Copyright © 2007 by Fluffy von der Flynn. All rights reserved.

  • Spam-Sep 1, 2007 5:05 AM

    from: Bianca Lacey
    time: 5:05 am (5 hours ago)
    to: flynndini@gmail.com
    date: Sep 1, 2007 5:05 AM
    subject: US $ 129.95 autodesk 2008

    What is there in the depths of these walls
    Wide, whited fields, a way unframed at last
    Against which we have been projected? What . . .
    Preface to the 1948 Edition
    Yes. You’d want that said, (if you
    there’s a pulpy orange-y smell from juice factories….
    “Be off!” say Winter’s snows;
    Empty streets I come upon by chance,
    To mark that square, perhaps: were Mère and Père
    Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
    visitors’ dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
    snoozing. A schoolgirl on vacation gapes,
    Pealing, it tries to fill the cold night air
    I am sleeping, and dreaming, and wandering along
    Amid the gloom, there, on the pole, stands black
    Left and right, and far ahead in the dusk.
    When I am heard, and what I say is solely
    Scrawny wolves, and you,
    Choces, Mère and Père, undreaming even of fields