Who sees the most beautiful stars, the poet or the astronomer? (17)
I want some of whatever you are smoking!!!
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shipoker55: I want some of whatever you are smoking!!!
that would be earl grey
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well ...the old saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder is true... and holds true for both the astronomer and poet... but the astronomer is too concerned with details... where, when, how far off, what the star is composed of... the poet is only concerned with the fact that they exist... and he is happy in knowing that simple fact...he sees more beautiful stars by using his heart. the same holds true in life... if you get too into details... you miss the big picture, and alot of times the big picture is beautiful. the answer of a hopeless romantic i guess...
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joshua5599: well ...the old saying that beauty is in the eye of the beholder is true... and holds true for both the astronomer and poet... but the astronomer is too concerned with details... where, when, how far off, what the star is composed of... the poet is only concerned with the fact that they exist... and he is happy in knowing that simple fact...he sees more beautiful stars by using his heart. the same holds true in life... if you get too into details... you miss the big picture, and alot of times the big picture is beautiful. the answer of a hopeless romantic i guess...
The most beautiful stars are those you see looking in your lover's eyes.
It's been cloudy a while.
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Zeelander: Welcome to my world..... posted 17 threads and had 73 posts.
I would have to say that the person that sees the most beautiful stars is the man that his hit in the head with a frying pan by his loving wife.
Zee
I would have to say that the person that sees the most beautiful stars is the man that his hit in the head with a frying pan by his loving wife.
Zee
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dillydally: The astronomer rips off her glasses, tosses them onto her workbench
and closes her eyes to force the thousands of pinpricks of light she can't really see
to manifest from the dot-matrix printouts scattered around her like the
remnants of a ticker-tape parade for creatures much bigger than her,
and waits for the numbers to coalesce into something beautiful.
She's been scanning the same distant corner of the night sky for six months
because she knows, she just knows that there's something there.
There has to be something there because the math is wrong;
a radiative fluctuation with no perceived cause has been poking at her brain,
a flashlight with dying batteries shined in her direction from eighty light-years away.
Tomorrow she'll put in a request for another hour of telescope time,
crank the massive array a fraction of a degree to the west and try again,
with fresh coffee and newly-sharpened pencils and Aphex Twin on the stereo.
The poet steps out onto his roof and looks up through the city haze at pinpricks of light
he can't really see, and lights a cigarette and closes his eyes and takes comfort in believing
that what he suddenly sees will be proved, some day, by scientists with pencils in their hair.what say you ??
and closes her eyes to force the thousands of pinpricks of light she can't really see
to manifest from the dot-matrix printouts scattered around her like the
remnants of a ticker-tape parade for creatures much bigger than her,
and waits for the numbers to coalesce into something beautiful.
She's been scanning the same distant corner of the night sky for six months
because she knows, she just knows that there's something there.
There has to be something there because the math is wrong;
a radiative fluctuation with no perceived cause has been poking at her brain,
a flashlight with dying batteries shined in her direction from eighty light-years away.
Tomorrow she'll put in a request for another hour of telescope time,
crank the massive array a fraction of a degree to the west and try again,
with fresh coffee and newly-sharpened pencils and Aphex Twin on the stereo.
The poet steps out onto his roof and looks up through the city haze at pinpricks of light
he can't really see, and lights a cigarette and closes his eyes and takes comfort in believing
that what he suddenly sees will be proved, some day, by scientists with pencils in their hair.what say you ??
me when i am able to see the eyes of my beloved one
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Becareful Alex your beloved one may make you see stars.
alex_192: me when i am able to see the eyes of my beloved one
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somechick: Becareful Alex your beloved one may make you see stars.
my beloved one is nice, sweet and lovely
yes she will make me see stars as i said before
she will make me feel like in heaven
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Just teasing you.
I'm in a real good mood today.
I'm in a real good mood today.
alex_192: my beloved one is nice, sweet and lovely
yes she will make me see stars as i said before
she will make me feel like in heaven
yes she will make me see stars as i said before
she will make me feel like in heaven
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somechick: Just teasing you.
I'm in a real good mood today.
I'm in a real good mood today.
now i am confused
do yuo mean i wil not see stars each time i will loke at the eyes of my beloved one
how do you know my feelings?
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No Alex not at all.
I wasn't picking on you.
I was cracking a funny.
You know when someone wacks someone side the head in cartoons and all of a sudden they see stars?
I wasn't picking on you.
I was cracking a funny.
You know when someone wacks someone side the head in cartoons and all of a sudden they see stars?
alex_192: now i am confused
do yuo mean i wil not see stars each time i will loke at the eyes of my beloved one
how do you know my feelings?
do yuo mean i wil not see stars each time i will loke at the eyes of my beloved one
how do you know my feelings?
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somechick: No Alex not at all.
I wasn't picking on you.
I was cracking a funny.
You know when someone wacks someone side the head in cartoons and all of a sudden they see stars?
I wasn't picking on you.
I was cracking a funny.
You know when someone wacks someone side the head in cartoons and all of a sudden they see stars?
no i dont
i am not a cartoon
besides that my beloved onw is nice and sweet
she will not wack me side on the head
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alex_192: no i dont
i am not a cartoon
besides that my beloved onw is nice and sweet
she will not wack me side on the head
i am not a cartoon
besides that my beloved onw is nice and sweet
she will not wack me side on the head
somechick was being FRIENDLY!!!!!!!
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shipoker55: I want some of whatever you are smoking!!!
I have what she's smoking, and I'm still befuddled!
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arabella: somechick was being FRIENDLY!!!!!!!
yes i know
and i dont see i was rude at all
you forgot you said you will not talk to me any more, that you will report me instead
but what can i expect from some one that is a friend of the person that posted 2 of my personal e-mails in a thread
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alex_192: yes i know
and i dont see i was rude at all
you forgot you said you will not talk to me any more, that you will report me instead
but what can i expect from some one that is a friend of the person that posted 2 of my personal e-mails in a thread
and i dont see i was rude at all
you forgot you said you will not talk to me any more, that you will report me instead
but what can i expect from some one that is a friend of the person that posted 2 of my personal e-mails in a thread
Look You.....
I'm no friend of any trouble maker on here.
And I'm no part of any "gang" as you say.
I am sick and tired of your attacks.
I have been part of these forums from the beginning.
I have never been known to be anything but upfront.
And yes, I sure as heck will keep reporting you !!
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Created: Jul 2008
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and closes her eyes to force the thousands of pinpricks of light she can't really see
to manifest from the dot-matrix printouts scattered around her like the
remnants of a ticker-tape parade for creatures much bigger than her,
and waits for the numbers to coalesce into something beautiful.
She's been scanning the same distant corner of the night sky for six months
because she knows, she just knows that there's something there.
There has to be something there because the math is wrong;
a radiative fluctuation with no perceived cause has been poking at her brain,
a flashlight with dying batteries shined in her direction from eighty light-years away.
Tomorrow she'll put in a request for another hour of telescope time,
crank the massive array a fraction of a degree to the west and try again,
with fresh coffee and newly-sharpened pencils and Aphex Twin on the stereo.
The poet steps out onto his roof and looks up through the city haze at pinpricks of light
he can't really see, and lights a cigarette and closes his eyes and takes comfort in believing
that what he suddenly sees will be proved, some day, by scientists with pencils in their hair.
what say you ??