Homage for a NYC little bird...
far
gone
for rough
journeys, tough
on my frail plumage
I become desperate for a cage
on city roads like this, no one could hear my anger
without skies to fly, winds to tease, suns to kiss my cheeks, no one understands my stupor.
8 comments:
Very nice... I like the picture that goes with it. But there is a mistake in the count for line 6, which corresponds to Fib(5) = 8. You have 9 syllables instead. Maybe you can get rid of the "a"?
I assumed 'desperate' is counted as 2 syllables in american pronunciation.
so: i-be-came-des-perate-for-a-cage=8.
no?
i really like the pic.
I suspected that this is what you assumed for "des prate". In that case, yes...
dar el douri 3al dayer?
cool sequence... i love that it culminates in stupor :)
so artistic, Gus!
the picture and the Fibonacci sequence.
I had the same feeling..when i was in NY many years ago...overwhelmed by the "BIGNESS" of everything..
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