the transcendental modernist

Month

November 2010

108 posts

1920s Saying of the Day

“Indian hop”

Definition: marijuana.

Nov 30, 201039 notes
The Hag

- by Robert Herrick

The Hag is astride,
    This night for to ride;
The Devill and shee together:
    Through thick, and through thin,
    Now out, and then in,
Though ne’r so foule be the weather.

    A Thorn or a Burr
    She takes for a Spurre:
With a lash of a Bramble she rides now,
    Through Brakes and through Bryars,
    O’re Ditches, and Mires,
She followes the Spirit that guides now.

    No Beast, for his food,
    Dares now range the wood;
But husht in his laire he lies lurking:
    While mischiefs, by these,
    On Land and on Seas,
At noone of Night are working,

    The storme will arise,
    And trouble the skies;
This night, and more for the wonder,
    The ghost from the Tomb
    Affrighted shall come,
Cal’d out by the clap of the Thunder.

Nov 30, 20102 notes
Nov 30, 201021 notes
Nov 30, 201015 notes
Nov 30, 201040 notes
Nov 30, 201042 notes
Nov 30, 201033 notes
Nov 29, 2010
1920s Saying of the Day

“Handcuff”

Definition: engagement ring.

Nov 29, 201035 notes
“I love walking in the rain because no one knows I’m crying.” —Charlie Chaplin (via dominiquejames) (via yama-bato)
Nov 29, 201062 notes
Nov 29, 20106 notes
“Thought is a kind of opium; it can intoxicate us, while still broad awake; it can make transparent the mountains and everything that exists.” —Henri-Frederic Amiel (via billyjane)
Nov 29, 2010107 notes
Nov 29, 2010297 notes
Nov 29, 201073 notes
#art
Nov 29, 2010124 notes
Nov 29, 201022 notes
Finally have my internet back!

Thank you followers for your patience while I’ve been away. I should be back tonight with posts, and helping a dear friend who I feel I’ve let down being connection-less :(

Again, thank you for staying with me!

Me

Nov 28, 20104 notes

Via Text: My internet has been down, and a repair tech won’t be out until sometime tomorrow. So I apologize for no posts :(

Nov 27, 20102 notes
Shadwell Stair

- by Wilfred Owen

I am the ghost of Shadwell Stair.
       Along the wharves by the water-house,
       And through the cavernous slaughter-house,
I am the shadow that walks there.

Yet I have flesh both firm and cool,
       And eyes tumultuous as the gems
       Of moons and lamps in the full Thames
When dusk sails wavering down the pool.

Shuddering the purple street-arc burns
       Where I watch always; from the banks
       Dolorously the shipping clanks
And after me a strange tide turns.

I walk till the stars of London wane
       And dawn creeps up the Shadwell Stair.
       But when the crowing syrens blare
I with another ghost am lain.

Nov 23, 201011 notes
1920s Saying of the Day

“Giggle water”

Definition: booze.

Nov 23, 201023 notes
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