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Tiny's Adventures

by Tiny

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I figured, if I'm going to have a camera phone then I might as well share the pictures. So here I am sharing.

I now carry a Crackberry Pearl because my RED RAZR drowned in an unfortunate bathroom incident in NYC.


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Poetry in Motion! One of the few joys of riding the NYC subway.

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Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory;
Odors, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,
Are heap'd for the beloved's bed;
And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,
Love itself shall slumber on.

By: Percy Bysshe Shelley. 1792-1822
13th May 2005, 03:03   | tags:,,

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bronxelf says:

Subway poetry. :)

13th May 2005, 03:11

Tiny says:

Love it! One can find some true gems on there. :)

This was a perfect poem because I had JUST been thinking earlier how well I can recall some scents and sounds from memory..almost vividly.

13th May 2005, 03:13

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