SOLD - French Provincial Story & Clark Console Piano
This lovely console piano is in excellent shape and ready to play. It will only need tuning and it's good to go!
$500
Repentance
"The wolf was sick, he vowed a monk to be: But when he got well, a wolf once more was he." - Walter Brower
Photo by António M Pinto, "Escadaria para o Céu"
"noun
A feeling of regret for one's sins or misdeeds: compunction, contriteness, contrition, penitence, penitency, remorse, remorsefulness, rue. Theology attrition. See regret/impenitence."
in http://www.answers.com
Repentance
"If you repent," the Parson said,"
Your sins will be forgiven.
Aye, even on your dying bed
You're not too late for heaven."
That's just my cup of tea, I thought,
Though for my sins I sorrow;
Since salvation is easy bought
I will repent . . . to-morrow.
To-morrow and to-morrow went,
But though my youth was flying,
I was reluctant to repent,
having no fear of dying.
'Tis plain, I mused, the more I sin,
(To Satan's jubilation)
When I repent the more I'll win
Celestial approbation.
So still I sin, and though I fail
To get snow-whitely shriven,
My timing's good: I home to hail
The last bus up to heaven.
poem by Robert Service
Photo by António M Pinto, "Escadaria para o Céu""noun
A feeling of regret for one's sins or misdeeds: compunction, contriteness, contrition, penitence, penitency, remorse, remorsefulness, rue. Theology attrition. See regret/impenitence."
in http://www.answers.com
Repentance
"If you repent," the Parson said,"
Your sins will be forgiven.
Aye, even on your dying bed
You're not too late for heaven."
That's just my cup of tea, I thought,
Though for my sins I sorrow;
Since salvation is easy bought
I will repent . . . to-morrow.
To-morrow and to-morrow went,
But though my youth was flying,
I was reluctant to repent,
having no fear of dying.
'Tis plain, I mused, the more I sin,
(To Satan's jubilation)
When I repent the more I'll win
Celestial approbation.
So still I sin, and though I fail
To get snow-whitely shriven,
My timing's good: I home to hail
The last bus up to heaven.
poem by Robert Service
Boredom
*Photo by Maximino Gomes"Boredom is a state of mind in which one interprets one's environment as dull, tedious, and lacking stimuli. There is an inherent anxiety in boredom; people will expend considerable effort to prevent or remedy it, yet in many circumstances it is accepted as an inevitable suffering to be endured. A common way to escape boredom is through creative thoughts or daydreaming.
(...)
Time often seems to move more slowly to someone who experiences boredom; this results from the way in which the human mind measures the passage of time, combined with the infrequency of events perceived as notable."
in Wikipedia
(...)
Time often seems to move more slowly to someone who experiences boredom; this results from the way in which the human mind measures the passage of time, combined with the infrequency of events perceived as notable."
in Wikipedia
Bored
All those times I was bored
out of my mind. Holding the log
while he sawed it. Holding
the string while he measured, boards,
distances between things, or pounded
stakes into the ground for rows and rows
of lettuces and beets, which I then (bored)
weeded. Or sat in the back
of the car, or sat still in boats,
sat, sat, while at the prow, stern, wheel
he drove, steered, paddled. It
wasn't even boredom, it was looking,
looking hard and up close at the small
details. Myopia. The worn gunwales,
the intricate twill of the seat
cover. The acid crumbs of loam, the granular
pink rock, its igneous veins, the sea-fans
of dry moss, the blackish and then the graying
bristles on the back of his neck.
Sometimes he would whistle, sometimes
I would. The boring rhythm of doing
things over and over, carrying
the wood, drying
the dishes. Such minutiae. It's what
the animals spend most of their time at,
ferrying the sand, grain by grain, from their tunnels,
shuffling the leaves in their burrows. He pointed
such things out, and I would look
at the whorled texture of his square finger, earth under
the nail. Why do I remember it as sunnier
all the time then, although it more often
rained, and more birdsong?
I could hardly wait to get
the hell out of there to
anywhere else. Perhaps though
boredom is happier. It is for dogs or
groundhogs. Now I wouldn't be bored.
Now I would know too much.
Now I would know.
Poem by Margaret Atwood
Loneliness
"The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved." — Mother Teresa (1910-1998)
*Photo by "Picasso"
"They're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinking alone. "
Billy Joel, "Piano Man", Piano Man (1973)
"Loneliness is an emotional state in which a person experiences a powerful feeling of emptiness and isolation. Loneliness is more than just the feeling of wanting company or wanting to do something with another person. Loneliness is a feeling of being cut off, disconnected and alienated from other people. The lonely person may find it difficult or even impossible to have any form of meaningful human contact. Lonely people often experience a subjective sense of inner emptiness or hollowness, with feelings of separation or isolation from the world."
in Wikipedia
Loneliness
Being apart and lonely is like rain.
It climbs toward evening from the ocean plains;
from flat places, rolling and remote, it climbs
to heaven, which is its old abode.
And only when leaving heaven drops upon the city.
It rains down on us in those twittering
hours when the streets turn their faces to the dawn,
and when two bodies who have found nothing,
dissapointed and depressed, roll over;
and when two people who despise each other
have to sleep together in one bed-
that is when loneliness receives the rivers...
Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
*Photo by "Picasso""They're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinking alone. "
Billy Joel, "Piano Man", Piano Man (1973)
"Loneliness is an emotional state in which a person experiences a powerful feeling of emptiness and isolation. Loneliness is more than just the feeling of wanting company or wanting to do something with another person. Loneliness is a feeling of being cut off, disconnected and alienated from other people. The lonely person may find it difficult or even impossible to have any form of meaningful human contact. Lonely people often experience a subjective sense of inner emptiness or hollowness, with feelings of separation or isolation from the world."
in Wikipedia
Loneliness
Being apart and lonely is like rain.
It climbs toward evening from the ocean plains;
from flat places, rolling and remote, it climbs
to heaven, which is its old abode.
And only when leaving heaven drops upon the city.
It rains down on us in those twittering
hours when the streets turn their faces to the dawn,
and when two bodies who have found nothing,
dissapointed and depressed, roll over;
and when two people who despise each other
have to sleep together in one bed-
that is when loneliness receives the rivers...
Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke
SOLD - Kimball Console Grand
A very special instrument.
This is called a console grand because it is small like a console but has strings the length of a baby grand.
Thus generating a rich and full sound! The action is easy and the soundboard and pinblock are solid.
Bench included. Take it for a test run today.
$850
A very special instrument.
This is called a console grand because it is small like a console but has strings the length of a baby grand.
Thus generating a rich and full sound! The action is easy and the soundboard and pinblock are solid.
Bench included. Take it for a test run today.
$850
Righteous Indignation
*Foto de Augusto Tomé
"Righteous indignation is an emotion one feels when one becomes angry over perceived mistreatment, insult, or malice."
in Wikipedia
in Wikipedia
To the Whore who Took my Poems
some say we should keep personal remorse from the poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; its stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems:
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be mony and whores and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.
poem by Charles Bukowski
Fatigue
*foto de Manuel Carlos, intitulada "Cansaço"
"The word fatigue is used in everyday living to describe a range of afflictions, varying from a general state of lethargy to a specific work-induced burning sensation within one's muscles. Physiologically, "fatigue" describes the inability to continue functioning at the level of one's normal abilities (...) due to an increased perception of effort (Enoka & Stuart 1992). Fatigue is ubiquitous in everyday life, but usually becomes particularly noticeable during heavy exercise."
in Wikipedia
in Wikipedia
"Tired and unhappy, you think of houses
Soft-carpeted and warm in the December evening,
While snow's white pieces fall past the window,
And the orange firelight leaps.
A young girl sings
That song of Gluck where Orpheus pleads with Death;
Her elders watch, nodding their happiness
To see time fresh again in her self-conscious eyes:
The servants bring in the coffee, the children go to bed,
Elder and younger yawn and go to bed,
The coals fade and glow, rose and ashen,
It is time to shake yourself! and break this
Banal dream, and turn your head
Where the underground is charged, where the weight
Of the lean building is seen,
Where close in the subway rush, anonymous
In the audience, well-dressed or mean,
So many surround you, ringing your fate,
Caught in an anger exact as a machine!"
poem by Delmore Schwartz
Lust
"Lust is any intense desire or craving for self gratification. Lust can mean strictly sexual lust, although it is also common to speak of a "lust for life", "lust for blood (bloodlust for short)", or a "lust for power" or other goals.
As a moral term, lust implies a sexual desire for its own sake, an erotic arousal and wish, or intense physical or sexual attraction or craving."
from Wikipedia
As a moral term, lust implies a sexual desire for its own sake, an erotic arousal and wish, or intense physical or sexual attraction or craving."
from Wikipedia
"I like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite a new thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like,, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh....And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you quite so new"
poem by e.e. cummings
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