19 May 2017

Sullied Bellwether

Raspberry syrup will be rotted  :the smell is goose                                     
                                                                                                           Let's see
poo: עץ עציק : The Blessing of the Know-to-dos
                                                                                                           Let them Rest
         

                   And, in Other words = the difference between them she was forced to wear her hat
                              radon electrified the cellar [his laughter] spoke with meddling malice
                      Dumile thanks please pleas
                    
                    A description of the description
                                                                                                           Make a Noise

The decision was taken by the following woman: In this case, there will be an additional (+/-) amount of space
         And they will be integrated {Sicily - Duneih}

                                     it's the distribution
of liquidity
Liquidity!
liQuidity!
               "Yes," Shumishev muttered in reticent agreement     .third
methods
         will continue to be implemented in near future upgrades to manifest the tithing that is a sign for titillation
     
                       !the Group! #weare100yrsold

          and thus it dangles

and rang to the count for man the lesser in the upper right corner
           "Do not press exit"
                                                                                                        Let the rain flow

                   ?Can You BE 


/3 Dumab Dasha/

25 January 2017

America by Walt Whitman

Centre of equal daughters, equal sons,
All, all alike endear’d, grown, ungrown, young or old,
Strong, ample, fair, enduring, capable, rich,
Perennial with the Earth, with Freedom, Law and Love,
A grand, sane, towering, seated Mother,
Chair’d in the adamant of Time.

The New Colossus by Emma Lazarus

The New Colossus

 
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”