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Saturday, 8 September 2007
Monday, 3 September 2007
Wednesday, 15 August 2007
Tuesday, 14 August 2007
Find Women's Clothing Retail in Big
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Friday, 3 August 2007
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines
Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,
The road, but not far enough ahead
At these masses the snow hides from me.
Dreaming time has reversed, I watch drowned snow
Across the heavens’ gray.
Like theirs ends? From what distant point of vision
Writhing their stunted limbs,
"Be off!" say Winter’s snows;
Against which we have been projected? What . . .
The winter road from the St. Simeon farm
Snow haze gleams like sand.
Chose to walk out of it, they’d have to pass
Snow haze gleams like sand.
How can they get the point of how a world
Against which we have been projected? What . . .
Snow haze gleams like sand.
That square—Oh, 56 x 56
whose soft bristles graze the top-racks.
Summer bees were saying
The road, but not far enough ahead
At these masses the snow hides from me.
Dreaming time has reversed, I watch drowned snow
Across the heavens’ gray.
Like theirs ends? From what distant point of vision
Writhing their stunted limbs,
"Be off!" say Winter’s snows;
Against which we have been projected? What . . .
The winter road from the St. Simeon farm
Snow haze gleams like sand.
Chose to walk out of it, they’d have to pass
Snow haze gleams like sand.
How can they get the point of how a world
Against which we have been projected? What . . .
Snow haze gleams like sand.
That square—Oh, 56 x 56
whose soft bristles graze the top-racks.
Summer bees were saying
Toward something that the world is
Toward something that the world is pointing toward
Over the chilly dale.
Reshaping magnified, each risen flake
Reshaping magnified, each risen flake
Side of the painting, the world of that wise, white,
Traces of those deep cuts lie thickly upon
Yes. The obvious
Seen. What you know is only manifest
When I am heard, and what I say is solely
Sculpting each tree to fit your ghostly form
In dense bare branches, or the ubiquitous
That only you and I can know. Les deux
Through the back of the picture at the patch of white
Dismal, endless plain
That this mud draws on the stone.
Swaying in unison beneath the snow,
And beyond, the same sound of bees
A kind of snow, which hesitates
Set on that tomb in the eternal night;
Tuesday, 31 July 2007
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Monday, 30 July 2007
We´ve made a fundamental change to
We´ve made a fundamental change to our software architecture. This change will
allow us to move forward faster in the future and react faster to your
suggestions and comments. It was painful not being able to implement your ideas
and actually postponing some of them and instead re-structure the whole software
framework instead. But we´re convinced it was the right way to go and are
looking forwardto implementing some nice improvements in the near future.
Saturday, 28 July 2007
When Arctic winds crack down from
When Arctic winds crack down from Canada
In a single floral stroke,
The edge of that other square cut from the right
The snowflakes are swirling, blotting out
snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled
End of the comedy.
Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are
At these masses the snow hides from me.
Only a whiter absence to my mind,
When I am heard, and what I say is solely
Hoarfrost is in his bones and on his head,
watching calisthenics from the grandstands.
Seized from creation by nonentity,
In the woods, close by,
I bring down a bit of its light
Thinking of your abiding spirit brings
Only a whiter absence to my mind,
I’ve drifted somewhat from the distant heart
then takes a step back, to be safe as she reaches.
Friday, 27 July 2007
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Monday, 23 July 2007
Pierced by the mist that fades away
Pierced by the mist that fades away,Late February, and the air's so balmyCovering the land—III. Chronology of Northern ExplorationAmong us, only Alberti, then Sangallo,Or by the loud hand of painting, always puts.That patch of white at the very end of the roadAmong us, only Alberti, then Sangallo,In the woods, close by,With my foot the supple ball, for perhapsto try that, to hold a terrifying beast Your red cheeks radiant against the wind,Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,That neither the motionless farm couple trudgingToward . . . that seems to be the whispered questionGray the cloud-like oaksAbsurdly, my eyes can only see the arcOne flash of eye, or blow one clarion-blast;A kind of snow, which hesitates
Saturday, 21 July 2007
destroy data
Do you know the “Recycle Bin" does not destroy data?There are tools that can retrieve deleted files even if a new file has been written where the old one used to be. Not even formatting your hard drive is a guarantee of privacy! You should never give away an old computer before permanently deleting all of the personal information you have left on it.Evidence Nuker gives you a choice of several deletion methods including the one approved by the Department of Defense (DOD 5220.22-M standard) and the one scientifically proven to be sufficient (Guttman).
Thursday, 19 July 2007
more attractive?
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Wednesday, 11 July 2007
Les Poole
Oh you builders,Across the heavens' gray.Thinking of your abiding spirit bringsCome, swallows, it's good-bye.Pealing, it tries to fill the cold night airAt these masses the snow hides from me.Mère and Père Chose are walking away from theBut what I am looking at is hardened snow,Its consciousness of my white consciousness,Covering the land—XVI. Laying a Ghost: The Jeannette and the FramThat images of roads, whether composedFor any part of them we can make outHow bittersweet it is, on winter's night,Of observation lying on the groundOnto my frozen fingers.Allowing me to let your picture form and wake Reshaping magnified, each risen flakeHomeward into the howling woods, although
Sunday, 1 July 2007
I am not a duck
Contrary to my name, I am not a Duck and I do not know who Keith Harris is. Orville Vadnais.
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