determinate

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
John Donne
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

John Donne

Anonymous asked:

"i want to take a large sum of money, enough that would make me very uncomfortable to risk. and toss it in the air on a six sided die and flirt with that amount of ruin. but I’m pretty cheap and that’s a different story." I wish you could experience the beautiful crafting of your words the way I, as the audience, do but I know its different from your vantage point of the author. A pity?

thank you very much, that’s kind of you, and i really appreciate your patronage. But what’s to say I’m not egotistical enough to look back at my writing and enjoy it just as much ;)  ..

Anonymous asked:

"and what of all the unrequited, and unsent, and unseen? And of those cancelled before hitting send. The miscarried and lost texts. The neglected progeny of half-thoughts, of part sentiments, washed away by the smallest swipe of digit. Dead by any other word, deleted. And superficial villages built atop these mass graves, themselves hiding others buried neath and more"

the old roman foundations of our now calloused and buried feelings to lost friends.

nmooses

A vivid display of Turkmenistan’s huge gas reserves is the Darvaza gas crater. In the 1970s, Soviet engineers accidentally collapsed this cavern about 260 km north of Ashgabat, while exploring for gas in the Karakum Desert. The escaping methane was lit, intending to quickly burn it off and avoid poisoning nearby villages, but it has continued burning ever since. Photo by Amos Chapple.

A vivid display of Turkmenistan’s huge gas reserves is the Darvaza gas crater. In the 1970s, Soviet engineers accidentally collapsed this cavern about 260 km north of Ashgabat, while exploring for gas in the Karakum Desert. The escaping methane was lit, intending to quickly burn it off and avoid poisoning nearby villages, but it has continued burning ever since. Photo by Amos Chapple.