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July 08, 2004

NYC - The gloomiest place on earth.

Death - Pamela Milne

comes in all its innocence
not unlike a child.
With no malice
and certainly no fear of what it is.
Its movement and touch more random
than we might have imagined.
Drawn (at times in a way that even Death
has never quite understood)
to those in pain.
They wish to see him.
(or see her - that part is easy)
and they draw Death to themselves.
But more likely she is curious -
passing an accident,
the hospital room
or an attraction to one of us
that brings Death -
A kind of love that we can not understand
in this world, that we will one day embrace
as warmly as we have tried to embrace
this life that seems to shrink from our touch.

Stuff around the world:

* Video diary from beyond the grave
* Vending Machines to despence videos for the Gameboy.
* How about reading a Newspaper from Tanzania.



Courtesy of : Christian Linder @ pbase

The inscription is mine, an old nepalese poem (I think). Poor fish.....

Posted by Penjo Chhimi | Permalink


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