Or a line from a poem or something poetic or whatever. Post em up.
Classic Blade Runner line.
"I've seen things you people wouldn't believe: Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion; I've watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time; like tears in rain. Time to die." ~Blade Runner
Love this mostly for the imagery.
Quote:
Drunken Boat - Rimbaud
I followed deadpan Rivers down and down, And knew my haulers had let go the ropes. Whooping redskins took my men as targets And nailed them nude to technicolour posts.
I didn’t give a damn about the crews, Or the Flemish wheat and English corn. Once the shindig with my haulers finished I had the current take me where I wished.
In the furious riptides last winter, With ears as tightly shut as any child’s, I ran, and unanchored Peninsulas Have never known such carnivals of triumph.
The storm blessed my maritime wakefulness. Lighter than a cork I danced on the waves Which some call eternal victim-breakers- Ten blind nights free of idiot guiding flares.
Sweeter than sour apple-flesh to children Green water slid inside my pine-clad hull And washed me clean of vomit and cheap wine, Sweeping away rudder-post and grapnel.
From that time on, I bathed in the Poem Of the Sea, lactescent and steeped in stars, Devouring green azures; where a drowned man Like bleached flotsam sometimes sinks in a trance;
When suddenly tinting the bluities, Slow deliriums in shimmering light, Fiercer than alcohol, vaster than lyres, The bitter rednesses of love ferment.
I know skies splintered by lightening, breakers, Waterspouts, undertows; I know the dusk, And dawn, exalted like a host of doves - And then I’ve seen what men believe they’ve seen.
I’ve seen low suns smeared with mystic horrors Set fire to monster fires of violet; Like actors in the very oldest plays Slatted light shimmered, away on the waves.
Green nights I dreamed bedazzlements of snow, A kiss rising to sea’s eyes slowly, Circulation of undiscovered saps, Blue-yellow wakefulness of phosphorsongs.
For whole months on end I followed the swell Charging the reefs like hysterical beasts, Not thinking that luminous Maryfeet Could force a muzzle onto breathy seas.
I struck, you know, amazing Floridas Where flowers twine with panther eyes inside Men’s skins! Rainbows flung like bridles under Sea horizons harnessed the glaucous herds.
I saw great swamps seethe like nets laid in reeds Where a whole Leviathan lay rotting, Collapse of water in the midst of calm And distances tumbling into nothing.
Glaciers, silver suns, pearl seas, firecoal skies! Hideous wreckages down in brown depths Where enormous insect-tormented snakes Crash from twisted trees, reeking with blackness.
I’d have liked to show children blue-water Dorados, golden fish and fish that sing. Foam-sprays of flowers cradled my drifting; At times I flew on ineffable winds.
Sometimes, martyr tired of poles and wastelands, My pitching was stilled by the sobbing sea Which raised to me its yellow-sucker Shadow-flowers – and I, like a woman, knelt.
Floating islands where the brawls and the guano Of fierce albino birds bounced off my sides, I sailed, while down among my fraying ropes Drowned men descended backwards into sleep.
Now, I, boat tangled in the hair of bights, Hurled high by hurricanes through birdless space, Whom no protection-vessel in the world Would fish up from the drink, half-drowned, half-crazed;
Free, smoking, got up in violet spume, I, who holed the sky like a wall in flames Which bears, good poet’s exquisite preserve, Lichen of sun and cerulean snot;
Mad plank streaked with electric crescents, flanked By dark formations of speeding sea-horse, When Julys bludgeoned ultramarine skies And pulverized them into scorching winds;
Trembling as I heard the faraway groans Of rutting Behemoths and swirling storms; Eternal spinner of blue stillnesses, I long for Europe’s ancient parapets.
I’ve seen star-sown islands cluster; others Whose delirious skies summon sailors. Do you sleep banished in the pit of night, You myriad golden birds, the Strength to come?
I’ve wept too much, it’s true. Dawn breaks my heart. All moons are atrocious, all suns bitter. Acrid love has pumped me with drugged torpor. Let my keel burst, let me go to sea!
If I want Europe, it’s a dark cold pond Where a small child plunged in sadness crouches One fragrant evening at dusk, and launches A boat, frail as a butterfly in May.
Steeped in your slow wine, waves, no more can I Cadge rides in the cotton-freighters’ slipstream, Nor brave proud lines of ensigns and streamers, Nor face the prison-ship’s terrible eyes."
-------------------- Little left in the way of energy; or the way of love, yet happy to entertain myself playing mental games with the rest of you freaks until the rivers run backwards. "Chat your fraff Chat your fraff Just chat your fraff Chat your fraff"
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