Künstlerbedarf
Notturno a Boccadasse
Die Rückkehr des Ritters
Perlen
Un bel tramonto a Boccadasse
Boccadasse sotto la neve : un evento molto raro -…
rest day
Trilogie
Boccadasse : nevica sul mare
Medaglia d'oro al floricultore !
La chiesa di S.Antonio a Boccadasse - elaborazione…
La torre Guelfa si specchia nell'Arno
falling down
Galleria Nazionale dell’Umbria - Palazzo dei Prior…
La piazza dei miracoli : la Torre Pendente e il Du…
Piazza dei miracoli : la facciata in marmo del Duo…
gefroren hat es heuer ... ein Rhombus
Un vicolo nel Lungarno
Il mercato ortofrutticolo in Lungarno
Panoramica di Camogli vista dalla via Aurelia
En balade
P1000048a
Shadowplay
Bilderrahmen (2 x PiP)
Le originali barche a vela di Sardegna
Nel porto di Stintino
Le rocce di Stintino modellate dal mare e dal vent…
Flotsam ... the giants of the ocean
Questo è Stintino
I colori del mare di Stintino
Stintino : un piccolo porto pieno di gioielli
Zwei Stühle sonnen sich . . .
I resti della miniera Argentiera -
La spiaggia Argentiera -
Il porto di Stintino
Un bel 12 metri a Capo Caccia
weibl. Statuen-Menhir
Una mini spiaggia a Stintino - Cala lupo
Il porto di Stintino
Stintino : le barche a vela latina
Stintino : Cala Lupo
Augenwischerei
Castelsardo
Il faro di Punta Palau visto da sud
Il promontorio di Castelsardo
Location
See also...
Keywords
Authorizations, license
-
Visible by: Everyone -
All rights reserved
-
35 visits
On the Pier
Across the sea
Of a thousand swords
Forged in the sun
Long tailed kisses,
Uniform, abstract,
Silent and stabbing,
Avalon ascends
For a moment.
Refracting in lamentation.
A myth once glimpsed,
Sucked in to a sanctuary
Of destruction.
Sinking back into
Victorian benches,
The wood calms,
And I look back
Towards the town,
Of nineteen twenties
Charm
And nineteen fifties
Restraint.
And the old soldier
Watches
From his wheelchair
As the cinema empties
Of oblivious youth.
Of a thousand swords
Forged in the sun
Long tailed kisses,
Uniform, abstract,
Silent and stabbing,
Avalon ascends
For a moment.
Refracting in lamentation.
A myth once glimpsed,
Sucked in to a sanctuary
Of destruction.
Sinking back into
Victorian benches,
The wood calms,
And I look back
Towards the town,
Of nineteen twenties
Charm
And nineteen fifties
Restraint.
And the old soldier
Watches
From his wheelchair
As the cinema empties
Of oblivious youth.
Annemarie, Steve Bucknell, aNNa schramm and 2 other people have particularly liked this photo
- Keyboard shortcuts:
Jump to top
RSS feed- Latest comments - Subscribe to the comment feeds of this photo
- ipernity © 2007-2024
- Help & Contact
|
Club news
|
About ipernity
|
History |
ipernity Club & Prices |
Guide of good conduct
Donate | Group guidelines | Privacy policy | Terms of use | Statutes | In memoria -
Facebook
Twitter
As for the nineteen twenties, they were the nineteen sixties of their time. I have no idea.
If you can tolerate my impudence ( that’s from the eighteen nineties) I’d leave out ‘Of oblivious youth.’ Just let the cinema empty.
Rachel J Bowler has replied to Steve Bucknell clubSign-in to write a comment.