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Beautiful Lamps Bedrom

Friday, September 23rd, 2011 | Author:
Beautiful Interior and Creative Bedroom Designs In Lighting Decoration

Interior Design Ideas For A Beautiful Bedroom

The bedroom is in some ways the most important room in the house. It is the sanctuary away from the troubles of the world, the ultimate escape from day to day life. Behind closed doors in the bedroom, problems can be forgotten. To create a setting for restful slumber, think about what colors and styles produce the greatest happiness and peace of mind. In your bedroom, you can have the off the wall decorations you’ve always wanted. The bedroom is private, so the interior design of your bedroom is all about you.

Your bedroom does more than just serve the need for a place to sleep. It accommodates you at all times of day, providing space for reading, studying, watching TV, talking on the phone, eating, and using the computer. Because of this, the bed is no longer the primary piece of furniture in the bedroom. Bedroom desks, large nightstands, or a television might be a better focus for your bedroom interior design. If you watch a lot of television in your bedroom, you might want to consider a chair and ottoman for more comfortable viewing.

If you like to read in your bedroom, you should pay special attention to the lighting in your bedroom. Dim, moody lighting may be restful, but it will cause eye strain when reading. The lighting should be at a level where you do not accidentally shade it, and tall enough to shine light on the book or magazine. Bedroom interior design professionals suggest that when using lamps in the bedroom, the lower edge of the lamp shade should be around eye level when seated.

Remember to choose colors that you find restful when decorating your bedroom. Exciting colors such as red should be avoided unless you personally find them comforting. Strong colors have been said to promote insomnia. Designing your bedroom interior with a splash of a bright color will liven up a room, but it should not be allowed to dominate.

Layered curtains in the bedroom are and excellent interior design choice. This allows you to wake up to filtered light, open the curtains for full light, or black out the room for naps and sleeping in. Blackout lined draperies will protect you from morning sun, whereas sheers or thin blinds will filter light for a gentle glow in the morning. Bedroom interior design has many options, and can be tailored to your personal preferences. The bedroom should be your sanctuary, and it is important to feel comforted and restful when you are there.

About the author: Lee Dobbins writes for Decorating Tips at Decor How To where you can get tips on how to decorate every room in the house including more interior design ideas for the bedroom.

Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/home-and-family-articles/interior-design-ideas-for-a-beautiful-bedroom-126161.html


Beautiful Bedside Lamps

Wednesday, September 21st, 2011 | Author:
So let's wish her and have some fun on her special day

Bedside Touch Lamp

Ever wonder how these touch sensitive lamps function? Touch technology in bedside lamps; do not have on and off switches. To turn the lamp on and to adjust the brightness, touching the lamp is required. Usually, these lamps have three brightness settings; either the first or last being the brightest. Circuits in these bulbs are operated by “duty cycle”. The circuits are distributed equally with zero percent (no touch), 33 percent first touch, 66 percent second. and 99.99 percent on the third touch. If there are 2 bulbs, then it requires 2 touches from 50 to 100 percent circuit distribution per touch.

There are now four properties that explain how touch technology operates. Among the four, the last justifies the bedside lamps operation.

  • Temperature- our body is warmer than the surrounding. With the heat that our body produces, these buttons or switches can be turned on.
  • Resistance- because our body is 60 per cent water, it is enough to conduct a small amount of electricity. So when pushing a certain button, the circuit will function and the object intended to use will be turned on.
  • Radio reception- the bedside lamps have radio-wave receptions because our body can act as an antenna while touching these lamps. We generate energy thus, turning the lamp on.
  • Capacitance- it comes from the root word capacity. Generally, when lamps are not touched, they are able to hold some energy or electrons and when a person touched it, the energy they have can “fill up” the lacking electrons needed to power the bedside lamp.

About the author: Check this site for more info aboutlamps.

Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/furniture-articles/bedside-touch-lamp-3404294.html

Frequently Asked Questions

  1. QUESTION:
    Would you read my story?
    The Step-Mum

    My 12 year old brother Henry and I were sitting in the lounge room watching The Simpsons on DVD when we heard our dad’s car pull into the driveway. I glanced at the analog clock hanging on the wall and roughly guessed that it was 10pm, this was later than usual when dad went out on a date with his beautiful girlfriend Samantha. A few minutes later I heard dad and Samantha laughing and chatting in low voices, they entered the lounge room and stopped dead in the tracks when they saw Henry and I still awake.
    “Hi kids, I have some exciting news for you two” said dad brightly. He was wearing his only pair of black suit pants and one of his white shirts with a narrow black tie. Samantha was wearing a very short black dress that showed off her long tanned legs that seemed even longer with her strappy black high heels, around her neck she wore a silver necklace with a heart charm, her hair looked fluffy and blonde, a really really fake platinum blonde for that fact, I also noticed a gold ring with a huge diamond on her middle finger of her left hand. The ring wasn’t at all that hard to miss as Samantha kept on moving her hand to touch her hair or scratch her arm. My eyes widened with shock, my shock quickly turned to anger.
    “YOU’RE ENGAGED!!??” I shouted.
    “How do you know?” asked dad.
    “Well she isn’t being very subtle”
    “What do you mean, and she has a name”
    “Just look at her” I said and pointed a finger at her. Samantha was in the middle of smoothing her hair down with her left hand and when she noticed me pointing at her she stood as still as a deer caught in a cars headlights.
    “What? I like the ring” said Samantha feebly. I rolled my eyes.
    “So, what do you think about all of this Henry?” asked dad, Henry tore his eyes away from the television.
    “Huh? What’s going on?” he asked. I threw my arms up into the air.
    “I’m going to bed. Goodnight Dad, Goodnight Henry, Badnight She-devil” I said and quickly scurried away before my dad could say anything.

    Once I got to my bedroom I retrieved my diary from under my mattress and decided to vent about what had just happened.

    Dear Diary
    Argh… I hate that she-devil girlfriend of dad’s and now she is going to be my MOTHER!!!!! Like wtf???? I absolutely hate her! And dad even knows that but he still goes ahead and asks her to marry him. I think he doesn’t like her either and that he is just marrying her because she comes from a rich family. Cause as u know my family is sorta not at all that rich. I’m not sure that Samantha has ever mentioned being rich but she sure as hell looks like it, always with her designer shoes, handbags and clothes. Anyways, I hope their marriage won’t last that long and that she goes ahead and jumps of a… wait, what was that?? Oh crap, I think I hear dad coming up the stairs. No, that doesn’t sound like dad’s shoes they sound more like high heels, oh man the she-devil is coming up the stairs and I think she is heading for MY BEDROOM!!! I can hear the footsteps coming closer. I’m just gonna turn off my bedside lamp now and pretend to sleep. I’ll write more later, bye.

    I quickly turned off my bedside lamp and started to do pretend snoring. My bedroom door opened halfway and light from the hallway streamed into my room, I opened my right eye a crack and saw the silhouette of Samantha standing in the doorway.
    “Stop that stupid snoring, I know you’re not sleeping” said Samantha in an aggravated voice, she then flicked the switch on the wall next to the door and my room was flooded with light. I didn’t want to prove her right so I continued to sleep. Before I knew it I was lying on my bed with no blanket, Samantha had ripped it off of my bed.
    “What the hell do you want?” I asked in a fierce whisper.
    “I don’t know what you have against me but you better be good because next week I will legally be one of your guardians” said Samantha with a smirk. My mouth dropped open.
    “The wedding is next week??” I squeaked.
    “Yes, so enjoy your freedom because when I’m your mother your life is going to be hell” said Samantha with a look of satisfaction, she then turned around and strutted out of my room with her right hand on her hip and her left arm swinging by her side. Her engagement shined every time the light hit it.
    “You’re not on a catwalk you wanna be model” I said snidely as she neared the door, Samantha turned around and I saw a gleam of anger in her eyes.
    “Wanna be?? Oh, I was a model for your information” said Samantha with her eyes narrowed.
    “Really? You sure don’t look like one” I remarked rudely, though the truth was she did look a lot like a model. Samantha’s eyes narrowed even more until they looked like slits, she opened her mouth to say something but before she could I heard dad’s voice from downstairs.
    “Samantha? Is everything ok up there?” shouted dad. Samantha took a deep breath and her eyes returned to their normal state.
    “Just saying goodnight to Gabby” said Samantha in a cheerful voice, she turned aro
    btw, im only 13

    • ANSWER:
      this is great, i want to read more

  2. QUESTION:
    Which paragraph is better for my story? or just evaluate one… thanks?
    1-
    He sat on the bottom edge of the bed, facing away from me. His head was bowed and he was staring at his hands clasped in his lap. Slowly, I crawled towards him, putting my hand on his shoulder to reassure him, when I was close enough. “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to” I whispered softly. He held up one finger in response, then sighed. “Do you know somewhere in between letting go, and holding on, Lies all the art of life?” He said. It sounded more like a fact than a question. I didn’t answer, I wasn’t sure he wanted me to. “After Liera was born-” He paused and turned to face me. I was sat cross legged on the bed now. He took my hand in both of his and gave me a pained, half hearted smile. “After dad left” he amended “It was like he had died. I felt miserable and cold all the time. I was only a little older than you are now you know.” I was hyper aware that he was staring at my face, even though I had diverted my eyes away from his.
    “what happened?” I pushed.
    He sucked in a deep breath and continued. “I knew being miserable made mum sad, so I vowed that I would live life to the full, be happy.” I was sure I was missing something. It didn’t fit. He must have sensed the confusion because he chuckled to himself then pulled me closer into him. “I tried to live life to the full. I threw myself into my academic studies. Joined the Legion. I suppose that was my biggest mistake.” He looked resentful now.
    “Joining the legion?” I asked. Unsure of what he meant.
    He shook his head. “No Evie. Living was my biggest mistake.” He said earnestly. “He thrives to live, yet he dies.”
    “It’s a sick Irony” I told him, looking up to examine his expression. It turned peaceful, almost, serene.
    “It’s a beautiful tragedy” he amended.

    2-
    it was almost completely dark outside. I flicked on my bedside lamp, flooding the room with a subtle glow. Slowly I started to clean up the papers off the floor, and put the clothes back in the wardrobe. I watched him carefully as I did this, Moving slowly, so as not to startle him. He never moved an inch, his mind was somewhere else. “I’m truly sorry” I told him when my room was finally tidy. I tired to sound strong but my voice broke on the last word. The tension of the argument still didn’t lift. “are you okay?” no reply. “If I could take it all back-” I started, perching lightly on the edge of the bed. His head snapped up, like someone had called him from a far away place.
    “I’m fine” he lied. “I was just thinking. About before, you know?” He looked sullen. The dim light wasn’t enough to allow me to examine his expression. Instead his face was masked by the shadows. I didn’t know if he was talking about before the argument or before his death. “Even if I could turn back the clock, to the precise moment it all happened, I wouldn’t change a thing you know” he whispered earnestly. He sounded sad, but there was no trace of regret in his voice.
    “I know it must be hard-” I started, not sure myself what I was getting at. I suppose I was just trying to comfort him.
    He laughed an icy kind of cackle. “You have no idea” he told me as he paced the perimeters of the small room. It was unnerving, the way he paced. Like he was waiting for something to happen. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, it had nothing to do with the room temperature this time. I shuffled backwards and buried myself under the covers. He smiled and assumed the place I had been sitting. “I was just a month or so older than you are now you know.” he started. I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t I slithered closer to him. My hand reached out and rested on his shoulder.
    “You don’t have to, If you don’t want to” I told him. “It’s hard, I understand.” I waited for a moment, my hand still resting on his shoulder. I was sure he wasn’t going to continue, then slowly, he reached his left hand to his left shoulder, and took my hand.
    “I want to” he assured me. He drew in a deep breath and then turned to look at me. His eyes were red and swollen, but his cheeks were dry. He tried for a smile, but it was half-hearted.

    Thank you soo much 🙂

    • ANSWER:
      I’d say the first one. It’s more detailed and gives a bit of reason… And I think the line “It’s a sick irony.” followed by “It’s a beautiful tragedy.” Has an amazing effect. 🙂

  3. QUESTION:
    What do you think of this poem I wrote?
    Cancer.

    I can see the cancer flowing through her veins
    I watch as it pulsates with her heartbeat and dances to a rhythm
    It’s dawdling poisonous venom slowly filling up her insides
    I can’t see it but I can surely feel it.
    Thread veins and all; the venom spreads through my lover’s lifelines
    It races and runs under her greying transparent delicate skin
    It croaks and croons under her fragile bones.
    My fingers make a pattern perfectly between each of her fragile ribs
    She takes another cigarette to her broken lips and takes an elongated intoxication; violent and rigid.
    I kiss her rough mouth hard with my virgin lips
    She tastes of smoke and gin and everything between.
    Her eyes glisten green shining in front of the bedside lamp
    Love was absent the night we fondled in her father’s bed.
    It was anywhere but there. Does love go on vacation?
    I ponder and make fleshy butterflies from my outstretched fingers. Probably.
    She falls asleep and I fall in thought.
    Isn’t it curious how your fingers fit perfectly between each of my emaciated ribs?
    Or how your breath mimics mine with delayed accuracy?
    I write awkward childish poetry in my head.
    Her mousy hair falls across the nape of her neck resembling a bridge.
    A beautiful marvellous bridge that people come to visit from afar with diamonds and rubies and encrusted wholly with love.
    I hate the way you make me love you.
    I’m not scared of ghosts or the dark nothing but the moment you leave.
    All that will be left of me is a never-ending gaping hole of earth and lust searching for a tender warm mother’s breast.
    Sometimes I think you’re just a mess of badly drawn lines.
    You’re just scrawled veins beneath paper rough skin
    You wear poorly sketched scars on your thighs; skin deep red pen lines.
    Even your smile is lop-sided- but I never seem to notice.
    Your skin, spread like thick icing over your skeleton, is a repetitive pattern of pores
    A stretch of the world the sun never kissed.
    You can’t see the beauty in multitudes of freckles and chipped fingernails- but I do.
    I watch as your eyes make their way around the back of your head, searching for peace.
    I hold you; inhale like you are a sample of expensive designer perfume.
    I watch as my lover lies bare, soulless in my colourless remote freckled arms
    I cast my mind back and recall all the moments you comprised of that ultimately led to this.
    one.

    • ANSWER:
      A poem of suffering. What matters is what you think. Possibly a way to get beyond suffering to forgiveness ultimately happiness again some day. Peace be with you.

  4. QUESTION:
    jokes: what do you think of these jokes..?
    Doing It In The Dark
    Claire was becoming frustrated with her husband’s insistence that they always have sex in the dark.

    Hoping to rid him of his inhibitions, during a passionate evening she flipped on her reading lamp and was shocked to find a cucumber in his hand.

    “Is this what you have been using on me for the past 8 years?” she exclaimed.

    “Honey, let me explain….” he pleaded.

    “You sneaky swine!” she screamed. “You impotent Son of a Bitch!”

    “Speaking of sneaky!” he interjected,
    “Perhaps you’d care to explain our two children!!”

    ________________________________________-
    Who’s This Guy
    After a long night of making love, the young guy rolled over, pulled out a cigarette from his jeans and searched for his lighter.

    Unable to find it, he asked the girl if she had one at hand.

    “There might be some matches in the top drawer,” she replied.

    He opened the drawer of the bedside table and found a box of matches sitting neatly on top of a framed picture of another man.

    Naturally, the guy began to worry.

    “Is this your husband?” he inquired nervously.

    “No, silly,” she replied, snuggling up to him.

    “Your boyfriend then?” he asked.

    “No, not at all,” she said, nibbling away at his ear.

    “Well, who is he then?” demanded the bewildered guy.

    Calmly, the girl replied, “That’s me before the operation.”
    _________________________________________
    Bus Driver’s Parents
    A little kid walks into a city bus and sits right behind the driver and starts yelling, “If my dad was a bull and my mom a cow I’d be a little bull.”

    The driver starts getting mad at the noisy kid, who continues with, “If my dad was an elephant and my mom a girl elephant I would be a little elephant.”

    The kid goes on with several animals until the bus driver gets angry and yells at the kid, “What if your dad was gay and your mom was a prostitute?!”

    The kid smiles and says, “I would be a bus driver!”
    ______________________________________
    Duct Tape
    Jeff walks into a bar and sees his friend Paul slumped over the bar. He walks over and asks Paul what’s wrong.

    “Well,” replies Paul, “you know that beautiful girl at work that I wanted to ask out, but I got an erection every time I saw her?”

    “Yes,” replies Jeff with a laugh.

    “Well,” says Paul, straightening up, “I finally plucked up the courage to ask her out, and she agreed.”

    “That’s great!” says Jeff, “When are you going out?”

    “I went to meet her this evening,” continues Paul, “but I was worried I’d get an erection again. So I got some duct tape and taped my penis to my leg, so if I did, it wouldn’t show.”

    “Sensible” says Jeff.

    “So I get to her door,” says Paul, “and I rang her doorbell. She answered it in the sheerest, tiniest dress you ever saw.”

    “And what happened then?”

    (Paul slumps back over the bar again.)

    “I kicked her in the face.”
    ______________
    what do you think….?

    • ANSWER:
      those are really funny. my favorite was the last one.
      heres mine.
      One day there was this man that went to a beach completely naked even though the beach was a non-nude beach.

      But the man thought and thought looking around. Nobody is here so he doesn’t care. He takes off his towel and lays down with a newspaper to cover his privates just in case.

      Soon comes a little girl that asks “Sir, what’s under the newspaper?”

      The man replies with “it’s a birdy and never ever touch it.”

      He soon falls asleep.

      Later on when he wakes up, he’s in the hospital feeling immense pain around his private area. The doctors ask what happened and all he could remember was the girl at the beach.

      Later on the cops arrive at her house asking what she had done. She said “well I was playing with the birdy but then it spit this white stuff at me. I got really mad. So I broke it’s neck, stepped on it’s eggs, and burned it’s nest.”


Beautiful Lamps Images

Sunday, September 18th, 2011 | Author:
Beautiful Lamps - Images

Photographic Hints, Tips, Techniques and Tricks for taking Beautiful Landscape Pictures

Nature and landscape photography represent an area of the photographic artwhich requires specialized skills. As we all know, practice makes perfect and over time, with the right shooting advice and some handy photographic techniques, tips, tools and tricks, taking beautiful landscape photographs can be masteredand your shot making can improve to the point that your photos really begin to capture some of the essence of the great places that you get to visit.

One of the photographic techniques that I find really useful, as obvious as it may sound, is making sure that I always have my camera with me when I head out. It can be quite surprising when revisiting an area that we think we know. Things change all the time. Maybe the lighting is different. Perhaps you are passing through at a different time of the day and a scene that hadnt previously imposed any particular sense of drama suddenly impresses you.

I recall driving through an area many times before. There was a long white sand beach with a bridge over a stream at the northern end. I had even picnicked and swum at the northern end of the beach last summer. In the intervening months since I had last visited the beach, the local council had built a path under the bridge and alongside the stream bed as part of a beautification process opening up an area which wasnt previously accessible from the beach.

As a result I was able to acquire some very pretty landscapes where I wasnt really expecting anything in particular. So even if you are familiar with an area, remember not to take things for granted. People and places do change and often over shorter time-frames than what you might appreciate.

Especially now with the advent of digital cameras, immediate recall and the ability to shoot many pics without the handicap of time and cost of development, why not take multiple photos of the same scene. Play with different exposure settings, angles, variations in zoom. Change the perspective, turn the camera sideways through 90 degrees, or even set the horizon on diagonally opposite corners to optimize composition if that is what it takes.

Work through different shots of the same scene at different focal lengths, telephoto through to wide-angle and be surprised at how much variation can be achieved in the shot. Eventually you will find the optimum picture which may appear to be quite different from the first impression. Capture a range of photos and make your selection afterwards rather than discard options at the time.

With the benefit of hindsight it is possible to re-crop a shot to change the emphasis or mood. Digital storage is so cheap now that retaining shots that may be less than optimum and having a library of images for later use offers alternate cropping options to accent different aspects of the photo.

About the author: I’ve walked this earth for the last 56 years and started taking pics as a kid on a “Box Brownie” before migrating to a Kodak Instamatic 110. I moved up to 35mm with a Minolta 7 Series II in 1976 and eventually made it to SLR via the Canon T70 and some decent Tamron Telephoto and wide angle lenses in 1983. I recently moved into digital photography and just love the instant immediacy and myriad options that the new technology brings. I specialize in landscape photography. Living in New Zealand (Godzone), I am blessed with many spectacular photo opportunities. These days my camera is almost always close at hand and I have been rewarded with some awesome results. I have twice been the recipient of the Editor’s Choice Bronze Award from the International Library of Photography and have been involved for the last 10 years in my church video team where my responsibilities include cameraman, director, team manager. A foray onto the Internet a couple of years ago led to the establishment of my first photography website (since sold) and I have a string of similar projects in train including a photography store-front, www.photographyglobal.com

Source: http://www.articlesbase.com/photography-articles/photographic-hints-tips-techniques-and-tricks-for-taking-beautiful-landscape-pictures-1543604.html

Frequently Asked Questions

  1. QUESTION:
    How do interior designers hide lamp cords?
    Bust open any copy of Martha Stewart Living, or House Beautiful, or Fancy Shmancy Living, and it becomes immediately apparent that the owners of these beautifully decorated homes do not have lamps, phones, or other electronic equipment with power cords. Is there really a way to hide them in a normal home, or are they just hidden away for the photo spread?

    Here’s an example: http://www.fionacampbelldesign.co.uk/images/homepage/Interior_Design_Living_room_layout.jpg

    Where are the cords for the lamps?

    • ANSWER:
      Being Martha, it’s entirely possible that she had a receptacle installed in the floor directly under the lamp. That’s a possibility, and I’d guess very likely. You can do that if you like, but remember-real people don’t have her budget to move the outlet and patch the floor when we rearrange the furniture. Floor outlets do work nicely though. Hope this helps.

  2. QUESTION:
    How do I take this picture?
    I wanna shoot this street near were I live thats lit up at the moment with fairy ligts and sodium lamps. It looks amazing. Ive tried taking shots at night of places that were beautiful lit up but the pictures came out in such a way as to appear like everything had doubled or like the lights were all blury. I think the effect is called camera shake, Im not sure though.
    My question is how do I shoot at night were the lights arent blurry and theres no ghost like double images? What speed film shoot I use and do I need a camera stand and one of those push button release jobbies? Or can you take shots at night hand held? My camera is a manual one, but its pretty decent. Thanks
    Yeah my camera is an SLR
    I think its a 35mm lense…….im a bit clueless, havent been taking pictures in a long while. So i should shoot using 400 film, with a tri-pod and shutter release button, setting the camera to f???? And how long of an exposure time should I be looking at? Thanks again

    • ANSWER:
      Yes you need a tripod and cable release. Now for how to get the picture you want.

      Taken directly from my FotoSharp (fotosharp.com) Day & Night Exposure Guide, Scene 14, City Skyline In Distance:

      ISO 200 (or 160)
      f5.6 @ 8 seconds
      f8 @ 15 seconds
      f11 @ 30 seconds

      Scene 8, Brightly Lit Street Corner:

      ISO 200 (or 160)
      f5.6 @ 1/8 second
      f8 @ 1/4 second
      f11 @ 1/2 second

      For the second example you might want to try “bracketing” which means try it at f8 @ 1/4 second and then one at f8 @ 1/2 second and one at f8 @ 1/8 second. DO NOT change anything except the shutter speed. I learned a long, long time ago to only change one variable at a time.

      I recommend the Day & Night Exposure Guide.

      EDIT: Perhaps if Michael M. had read my answer his would have been better.

  3. QUESTION:
    What type of Crystal is this?
    Please help me with Identifying one of my crystals:
    It is half colorless and half white (It is actually two (possibly more) crystals pressed together along a cleavage plane, creating a heart shaped beautiful whole), when aligned with bright light it sparkles with dozens of tiny rainbows throughout the entire crystal, It has a fishbowling effect on images when looking through the clear part, the general crystal shape seems to be octahedral, though it is difficult to tell, has an icey adamantine luster and is quite cold to the touch, and, intrestingly holds heat for a very long time (found this out when i left it under my lizard’s heat lamp for awhile and it took over 4 minutes to cool off to room temperature) also, it is quite brittle. I orignially thought it was a beautiful piece of smoky quartz, but the closer i examine it the more that seems unlikley… I would appreciate any ideas on the Identity of the crystal thank you. Also, I have been unable to make any discernable marks of the stone with any other mineral in my collection, inlcluding quartz.
    I’m begining to think its diamond but I sevelry doubt it. Again help would be appreciated so i can finally settle this matter and get it out of my head, Thanks.

    • ANSWER:
      What you may have is a Topaz crystal. They develop twinning along crystal planes. They have a hardness of 8, whereas Quartz only has a hardness of 7. Another unique characteristics of Topaz that you mentioned is that it feels cool. Topaz will pull the heat from you palm, thereby feeling cool to the touch. Also, Topaz crystals are known for this internal crystal flaws and inclusions. This may by the sparkling that you see.

      If it is Topaz, it is susceptible to being damaged if struck upon a hard surface since is has a perfect cleavage perpendicular to its long axis. Small crystals are used for Jewelry, but you have to take care not to damage them.

      Check out the link below for more Topaz info.

  4. QUESTION:
    Can you tell me what you think about my poems?
    What theme I am trying to hit is The era in the 1800’s where everyone was coming up with useful ideas and new technology. Can you tell me if you feel like I hit it? I would love constructive criticism.

    Mental image; vintage image.
    Ideas that start as something
    as simple as cotton
    and blossoms into
    Something complex; something new.
    For all intentions
    of spawning inventions
    the generation has not yet seen
    and the ideas; not yet dreamed.
    and the creation yet to be deemed
    useful or burden.
    Created of ideas
    or the after taste of bourbon.
    The idea brought forth;
    complexity born of simplicity.
    Threads of synthetic fiber
    crafted to harvest the blowing gales.
    To assist the ships in setting sail.
    Incredible endurance for something so frail
    The epitome of ideas and awe
    can be born of just needle and thread.
    Or an elaborative speech written instead,
    or the graphic text you have read.
    Mental image; vintage image.

    This one was suppose to center around the filthiness of a teenage boys room.

    Drinks of disgust
    bottles and cans of beautiful designs with reflecting neons
    luminating from adjacent lamp.
    Which is creeping to cause damage to the prestigious
    golds and silvers and rewards of crumpled paper alike.
    Instruments of my musical tourture lay next ragged clothing of the 90’s
    and forgotten knowledge of the year.
    Apprael to show off, or conform like every other kid,
    mixed in with the apparel of labor and glory.
    An ironic scene it is; the footwear of the man who walks a gold mile
    holding their ground above the device for the sloth caught up in moving text
    and manipulated people who don’t even exist, and platters of filth
    that the rats and roaches may consume when they need.
    In the midst of all the scenic chaos is me.
    Welcome.

    What do you think?
    >I can read a poem in under 5 seconds.

    Obvious troll is obvious.
    @Randi That’s alright. Can you tell me why though?

    • ANSWER:
      on the first poem

      its good very nice yes it does posses the wherewithal to be from the 1800 , i enjoyed mostly because im a steam punk fan

      on the second poem

      this one was a little more confusing mostly because like the only words a can really remember is the color gold i think if you broadened this poem and add a little more fineness then it could stand on its own with out you having to tell us what the basis is

      this post is not meant to bash your work in anyway…

      but the poems should be able to tell a person exactly what your trying to say, or the should casually dance around it o that you don’t have to tell us the basis…

      that being said i love the first poem, and i enjoyed the second but to me it seems like the second poem is missing something

      Miku ^///^

  5. QUESTION:
    is this opening to my story any good?
    She is my best friend. This is my home. This is my sanctuary. This is my school. This is my protection. This is my family. This is my life. Correction; was my life.
    Sometimes life throws things at you, and you have no choice but to grow up. I had to grow up when my mum died. It was a 40 limit, and the taxi driver was going 60. I guess it was kind of fate, but I’ll never know, because she’s never coming back.
    My brother turned to drugs, he turned to alcohol. I had nowhere to turn.
    Three weeks after the loss of my mum, I had been invited to a party. I guess I wasn’t really up for it, but I’d rather be out than sitting in a place I use to call home, waiting for my brother to crash through the door stoned, and waiting for him to lose his temper and smash another plate. I could have been in a place much simpler than this.
    I approached my wardrobe before stopping and remembering that I had thrown out all my decent clothes replacing them with over sized hoodies and tatty, flared jeans. I searched through draws in case I had kept something – there was nothing. I considered not going before I thought of what my mum would have done if she was here. She would have given me her best dress and highest heels before telling me I looked beautiful. I caught a faint glimmer of a broken smile on my face from the corner mirror.
    After a long soak in the bath, I stood in front of the tall oak doors of her beautiful, precious wardrobe, pausing before stepping into gentle memories. I reached for the mahogany handle, turned an accurate 90 degree angle, and then delicately pulled it towards me. I was over whelmed with the sweet scent of my mum’s perfume that I had so longed to experience again. The scent made me feel calm and content. It wrapped me in a glass bubble that I knew would eventually shatter. In front of me was a varied range of colours and materials, but I knew what I wanted to wear. How I wanted to look… Like her.
    I reached for the midnight blue silk, which shimmered from the street lamp that shone through the cloudy window. I carefully slipped the dress over my head – it was a perfect fit, and showed of my curves – and tied my hair up in a messy bun like my mum use to. I tried on the satin heels that were at the bottom of her wardrobe, like I did when I was three. But I could never fit my feet into her shoes, so I just slipped on my ballet flats. I rummaged around through my mum’s makeup draw and picked out her crimson lipstick that went so well with my pale skin and auburn curls.
    I stood in front of the wall length mirror, baffled by how much alike me and my mums really were. I had never before realised how identical each of our features were. I had her high cheek bones, her thin, yet plump lips, and her hypnotic eyes. I was a spitting image of her.
    The party was only a few blocks down, about a five minute walk. I cautiously crept out of the back door, doing my very best not to attract attention to myself as I was certain he was already out of his face.
    I lightly skipped down the empty road with the flickering street lamp as my only company, allowing my fingertips to travel along the colourless cracks in the concrete walls. I took a deep breath, knocked on the door and was greeted by the familiar aroma of body odour, alcohol and cigarette smoke. I was invited in by the cute boy from the year above. “Jaimee, looking good,” he said. I thought to myself “this is real. This is what teenagers do. I can be a normal teenager.” He offered me a half full cup, “orange juice babe.” I took a sip… That was not orange juice.
    “I’m not stupid, there’s alcohol in there.” I said, remembering how strong, yet soft my voice was. I hadn’t heard it in a while. “Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll get you some water if you care that much.” Why should I care? What’s stopping me now? Nothing.
    “I don’t care”. I had to grow up remember. I poured the drink down my throat in one go. I finished it, wiped my mouth, and pushed the cup towards the cute boy. “An

    • ANSWER:
      Know what, I like it!!

  6. QUESTION:
    Visualizing an impossible image?
    I’ve been thinking about dimensions.. When I look at a lamp, I’ve thought about the simple to visualize light that turns on. In my mind I can see that light; And there is a way that I try to visualize it as, but I can’t seem to do it. When I picture the normal light flooding my eyes, it feels like I could add another dimension to it in a way, and I know it would look beautiful somehow. What do you think?The normal light I see just feels 2 dimensional in a way.. Can any of you get this feeling? God bless and God speed.

    • ANSWER:
      A Klein Bottle. Waterfall, by Escher.


Beautiful Flor Lamps

Thursday, September 15th, 2011 | Author:
Beautiful Floor Lamps by Kinzig Design | House and Home Design ...

Modern Floor Lamp Considerations

Decorating a new home or apartment is a fun and exciting experience for most but the vast options are occasionally overwhelming. Before setting out to accent your home with everything from modern floor lamps, desk lamps, pictures and other decor a little preparation will go a long way. Many people choose to focus on lighting as the first step in house warming.

Modern Floor Lamp Prep

First you want to decide where you want to put lights and what kind of lighting you will utilize. There are modern floor lamps, desk lamps, accent lamps and more to choose from. Space and light brightness are the two biggest functional factors when picking a great modern lamp. Depending on the intended use for the lamp will decide if a modern accent lamp with low light for decoration will be suitable or if a bright contemporary desk lamp or floor lamp is needed for reading. Another important factor is the power consumption of the contemporary lamp. Energy costs are rising and finding a modern lamp with a good wattage range will help reduce your electric bill. Reading lights usually need to have at least 100 watts where accent lamps are fine to be 100 watts or lower. You may opt to go with modern lamps that allow compact fluorescent bulbs since these are much more efficient. Picking a light with more wattage is not really necessary for home use; but do not pick such a dim light that causes eye strain then reading or other activities.

Next you want to take note of the colors in the room you will add the modern floor lamp. Matching the colors exactly is not necessary but you definitely want similar colors or colors that complement each other. Also keep in mind the footprint size of the base of the modern floor lamp along with the height. If you have ceilings that are low then you need to keep this in mind when shopping for your lamps so they will fit. The height of the lamp shade is another important factor whether the lamp will be on the floor or on top of a table, dresser or other furniture. Usually you want the lamp shade to be at the same height as your head as a general rule of thumb. Picking a modern floor lamp out online and having it delivered is a great way to save money but also requires you review the measurements in the product description. Check the size with the future location of the modern lamp to eliminate size concerns.

Modern floor lamps are made from a variety of materials and it is a good idea to get a light that will complement your current furnishings. Sometimes this means picking a floor lamp that uses the same materials as your furniture while other decors give great flexibility in the material that matches. Remember that shopping for a modern floor lamp or any other home décor should be a rewarding & exciting experience, you just need to take your time.

About the author: Find coupons on modern floor lamps along with recommended online lamp stores and other great articles about modern floor lamps.

Source: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=298085&ca=Home+Management


House Beautiful Table Lamps

Monday, September 12th, 2011 | Author:
The Old Post Road: Table Lamps

Include A Southwest Table Runner For Wonderful Western Style Home Decor

A Southwest table runner is an easy way to bring out that one-of-a-kind western, rustic or Native American feel in your home decor. Because of their growing popularity, more and more home decorators are choosing to buy their southwest table runner online. Used as western accents and also southwestern accessories, in breakfast nooks or when decorating a cabin or log home with a rustic or western theme, southwestern table runners give your home character and a beautiful authentic Native American look. When purchasing American Indian style table runners, you will find a large selection making it easy to find a western table runner and you will no doubt want to put a few of the most popular and sought-after runners or table rugs in your home decor. These table runners have a long history that has evolved over time and can truly be appreciated as great works of art.

Some of the most popular southwestern and western table runners, in Indian patterns, each type of runner uses a combination of unique colors and characters, symbolizing spirituality or depictions of historical events and a wide variety of colors and designs.

Not only is a southwest table runner known for its incredible beauty, but the skill and hard work involved in making Native table runners is also very impressive. The makers of hand woven table runners must be very skilled and start the runner making process by kneeling in front of a vertical wooden-framed loom. The designs are then put into place by using a shuttle to weave different colored yarn together, making geometric characters and designs. Originally, Navajo rugs as well as those of some other Southwest Indian tribes were woven of hand spun cotton thread. However, once the wool of domestic sheep was introduced to the region by the Spanish settlers, the people primarily used wool to weave their colorful rugs, table runners and other traditional weaving.

Today, many of the modern southwest table runners are made in areas where Spanish and Native American histories joined together to create beautiful designs. Southwestern table runners, with their warm earth tone colors and unique southwestern designs make them the standard for rustic home decorating. If you are searching for great southwestern decor, you will probably purchase from American companies or directly from Native American weavers. Buying western table runners from Navajo or other American Indian tribes not only allows you the satisfaction of owning a southwest table runner that is made by Native Americans but also helps to support the Native American heritage of rug weaving, and the people who themselves sell their rugs, runners, and Native American art.

The style of table runner you choose will greatly depend on what you like and what kind of decorating you have in mind. You will find that a southwest table runner is an excellent southwestern accent when combined with rustic or western home decor. Whether you are decorating one room in your house or decorating an entire house using a rustic theme, you will come across many designs and colors available to choose from. Among these options you will find everything from Zapotec runners with no two alike, to southwest table runners with western style. Designers love hand woven wool table runners because of the rich colors and textures. Whatever your decorating style and whatever your home decor needs, you will definitely enjoy the richness of color and warmth brought to life in your home by decorating with a southwest table runner.

About the author: Craig Chambers is the director of Mission Del Rey and author offering free information online about how to use a southwest table runner in unique western style. For more information visit http://www.missiondelrey.com

Source: http://www.isnare.com/?aid=221684&ca=Home+Management

Frequently Asked Questions

  1. QUESTION:
    How to describe my bedroom in French?
    Salut!!

    Could you pleas translate this into French (No using translator!) Thank You

    In my house my bedroom is next to my parents room and opposite my littler sisters, In my bedroom I have a bed which is small but comfortable I also have a big wardrobe and some drawers. I have a desk and I have a television and DVD player. Next to my desk I a beautiful old fireplace. Next to my wardrobe I have my new and big piano which I play often. The colour of my walls are white which I don’t like, and my floor is wooden floor boards but I also have a very old African carpet under and next to my bed. My curtains are brown and my door is also brown. Soon I’m going to paint my room. I have around my room on my walls paintings which a I painted myself. I love my paintings, then on top of my fire place and on my shelves, which is above my desk, I have my DVD’s and Books. I spend a lot of time in my bedroom, I like to play my piano and saxophone, read, write and watch things on my computer. When I go to bed I listen to music until I go to sleep at nine o’ clock. I also I have two purple table lamps, one next to my bed and one next to my piano. Underneath my piano I have a microwave, which is very strange! I use it to cook food so I don’t have to go downstairs.

    THANK YOU!

    • ANSWER:
      Ma chambre est à côté de celle de mes parents et en face de celle de mes petites sœurs. Dans ma chambre, j’ai un lit petit mais confortable. J’ai aussi une grande armoire et quelques tiroirs. J’ai un bureau et une télévision avec un lecteur DVD. A côté de mon bureau, il y a un vieil âtre magnifique. A côté de mon armoire, il y a mon nouveau grand piano avec lequel je joue souvent. Les murs de ma chambre sont blancs, même si je n’aime pas trop ça, et au sol il y a du parquet mais j’ai aussi un vieux tapis africain qui occupe l’espace au bord et sous mon lit. Mes rideaux sont marrons tout comme ma porte.
      Je vais bientôt peindre ma chambre. Sur tous les murs j’ai accroché des peintures que j’ai réalisées moi-même. J’adore mes peintures, et j’ai rangé mes DVD et mes livres au dessus de l’âtre et sur mes étagères qui sont au dessus de mon bureau.
      Je passe beaucoup de temps dans ma chambre. J’aime jouer du piano et du saxophone, lire, écrire et regarder des trucs sur mon ordinateur. Quand je vais dans mon lit, j’écoute de la musique jusqu’à ce que je me couche à 21 heures. J’ai aussi deux lampes de chevet violettes, une près de mon lit et l’autre à côté de mon piano. En dessous de mon piano, j’ai un micro-ondes, qui est très bizarre. Je l’utilise pour cuisiner, comme ça, je n’ai pas besoin de descendre (dans la cuisine).

  2. QUESTION:
    i’m looking for a name to this lamp/lighting fixture?
    i work in a really nice Assisted Living, Health and Rehab, and General Apartment Housing, that is provided for senior citizens or retired people who cant keep up their usual lifestyle at home. Love the people there.

    So yesterday i was going past a resident room, as they freely keep their doors open sometimes, and i saw this beautiful lamp.
    i didnt have time to stop and chat with the nice lady to get more info, but i have this mental picture that i hope you can help me figure out.

    this light was small enough to fit on a nice end table. it reminds me of a bird cage but not as many bars, im thinking there was at least 4 to 5 wooden “bars”. this thing looked like it was made out of solid wood (from a very nice tree :-P) I’d say about 2 feet if not a lil more high. and inside the lights were hanging, like spiders do. no glass panels, so you can touch the lights.

    here’s a drawing i made to maybe help with a visual since i didnt take a picture with my phone! >_< its pretty bad but i think it might help http://i3.photobucket.com/albums/y95/Baby_260/151.jpg?t=1245913921 i want one of these lamps so bad! i think it may be an antique...but then i havent been on this earth that long! only 21... so ANYTHING will help, thank you so much!

    • ANSWER:
      There is a good chance that it was hand made by a woodworker. This is not of any usual style or design that I have seen over the number of years I have been in this business. I have seen some very interesting home made ones though.

  3. QUESTION:
    is my short story good?
    straight down in large sticky lumps, they clung to each
    other and sank quickly and they weren’t white, but grey.
    The whole world was as heavy as lead.
    Mummy carried in the suitcases and stamped her feet
    on the doormat and talked the whole time because she
    thought the whole thing was such fun and that everything was different.
    But I said nothing because I didn’t like this strange
    house. I stood in the window and watched the snow
    falling, and it was all wrong. It wasn’t the same as in
    town. There it blows black and white over the roof or
    falls gently as if from heaven, and forms beautiful arches
    over the sitting-room window. The landscape looked
    dangerous too. It was bare and open and swallowed up
    the snow, and the trees stood in black rows that ended
    in nothing. At the edge of the world there was a narrow
    fringe of forest. Everything was wrong. It should be
    winter in town and summer in the country. Everything
    was topsy-turvy.
    The house was big and empty, and there were too
    many rooms. Everything was very clean and you could
    never hear your own steps as you walked because the
    carpets were so big and they were as soft as fur.
    If you stood in the furthest room, you could see
    through all the other rooms and it made you feel sad; it
    was like a train ready to leave with its lights shining over
    the platform. The last room was dark like the inside of
    a tunnel except for a faint glow in the gold frames and
    the mirror which was hung too high on the wall. All the
    lamps were soft and misty and made a very tiny circle of
    light. And when you ran you made no noise.
    It was just the same outside. Soft and vague, and the
    snow went on falling and falling.
    I asked why we were living in this strange house but
    got no proper answer. The person who cooked the food
    was hardly ever to be seen and didn’t talk. She padded
    in without one noticing her and then out again. The
    door swung to without a sound and rocked backwards
    and forwards for a long time before it was still. I showed
    that I didn’t like this house by keeping quiet. I didn’t
    say a word.

    In the afternoon the snow was even greyer and fell
    in flocks and stuck to the window-panes and then
    slid down and new flocks appeared out of the twilight
    and replaced them. They were like grey hands with a
    hundred fingers. I tried to watch one all the way as it
    fell, it spread out and fell, faster and faster. I stared at the
    next one and the next one and in the end my eyes began
    to hurt and I got scared.
    It was hot everywhere and there was enough room
    for crowds of people but there were only two of us.
    I said nothing.
    Mummy was happy and rushed all over the place
    saying: “what peace and quiet! Isn’t it lovely and warm!”
    And so she sat down at a big shiny table and began to
    draw. She took the lace tablecloth off and spread out all
    her illustrations and opened the bottle of Indian ink.
    Then I went upstairs. The stairs creaked and groaned
    and made lots of noises that stairs make when a family
    has gone up and down them for ages. That’s good. Stairs
    should do that sort of thing. one knows exactly which
    step squeaks and which one doesn’t and where one has
    to tread if one doesn’t want to make oneself heard. It
    was just that this staircase wasn’t our staircase. Quite
    a different family had used it. Therefore I thought this
    staircase was creepy.
    Upstairs all the soft lamps were on in the same way
    and all the rooms were warm and tidy and all the doors
    were standing open. only one door was closed. Inside,
    it was cold and dark. It was the box room. The other
    family’s belongings were lying there in packing-cases and

    trunks and there were mothproof bags hanging in long
    rows with a little snow on top of them.
    now I could hear the snow. It was falling all the time,
    whispering and rustling to itself and in one corner it had
    crept onto the floor.
    The other family was everywhere in there, so I shut
    the door and went down again and said I wanted to go
    to bed. Actually I didn’t want to go to bed at all, but I
    thought it would be best. Then I wouldn’t have to say
    anything. The bed was as wide and desolate as the landscape. outside. The eiderdown was like a hand, too. You
    sank and sank right to the bottom of the earth under a
    big soft hand. nothing was like it was at home, or like
    anywhere else.
    In the morning it was still snowing in just the same
    way. Mummy had already got started with her work
    and was very cheerful. She didn’t have to light fires or
    get meals ready and didn’t have to be worried about
    anybody. I said nothing.
    I went to the furthest room and watched the snow. I
    had a great responsibility and had to see what the snow
    was doing. It had risen since yesterday. A thousand tons
    of wet snow had slithered down the win

    • ANSWER:
      Nobody is answering… Have a smile from an ignorant but friendly user

  4. QUESTION:
    New Poem? What do you all think?
    its called Rich

    Download the PDF file from a
    cheap google search on your apple laptop,
    pull out the printer, click the tiny red button
    print print print

    out comes, from this mundane task, little thought and little soul containing,
    the genius that touches your being, those whom you look up to,
    making you see
    and imprinting themselves on
    the red of your blood.
    Out pours that which you long to be.

    They came from nothing
    built themselves purely on talent and desire.

    Those maybe who write lyrics that flow and dance, reflected in the fire of the core,
    inside the pulse of the earth for you.
    Or books that will never leave the endless catalog of your mind
    Forever nagging and showing themselves in everything you do.
    You hang them, carefully and quickly, above your desk
    hoping they might rub off on you as you work.
    Inspire you, if you don’t mind being cliché.

    Their genius to transfer through two dimensional images on paper
    to the very real caverns of your mind and fingertips.

    But now you decide to begin
    sit, open up your notebook or laptop
    very comfortable, very privaleged in your lovely house and tray of snacks at your table and a can of soda.
    And look up, up
    see their suffering and power.
    They sat in decrepit bars with cheap vodka and worn out clothing.
    What were they born with but talent?

    There they stand, judging you with mysterious and beautiful eyes
    begging you to reach them, create something as fantastic as they
    but somehow, not allowing you to.
    Why should you be allowed?
    You are fat, rich, dull and sleepy to them.
    Don’t be greedy, they begin to shriek in your head.

    The height at which you put them somehow starts,
    first quietly,
    then nagging at you,
    then suddenly ravaging your brain,
    becoming a metaphor for your stance in life.

    And who are you, to find yourself sitting beneath them, trying to create
    trying to grow within the parameters
    of what they have already done and presented to the world?

    You are very little all of the sudden, beneath the photos
    your imprint shrinks, dries and shrivels
    in the harsh light of your overhead lamp.

    And you close the laptop
    the notebook
    break the pencil tip.

    And sit, looking down, down.

    • ANSWER:
      Not sure I understand the purpose.

  5. QUESTION:
    Plz comment on my poem..?
    Mask man#
    In the middle of the night
    He entered the lonely house through window pane
    I’m the thief i’m gonna loot
    He said to himself,and checked the gun again.
    No one’s gonna see him he thought
    As he was wearing a full face mask.
    His green eyes were the only flashing thing
    He smiled coz stealing is not a big task.

    The mask man thinks he is the bad boy
    Nothing’s gonna stop him this night
    Making his move without the light.

    Then he entered a room gently pushing the door
    And saw the big lamp in the corner still turned red
    Mask man took a glimpse of the room
    And found someone on the bed.
    He took a step back then he hit the table
    Glass doll fell and shattered he had to pay the price.
    It made the girl to wake up
    She stood in silence as she saw those green eyes.

    The mask man doubts was he the bad boy
    Is she gonna stop him in this night
    As he moves towards from dark to light.

    Mask man saw the girl and she was beautiful
    He looked her again
    Then he ran through the window pane.

    Mask man found himself in the morning
    Walking down the city street.
    Mask was off his head but girl in his mind
    Never seen a girl such a beauty n sweet.
    Then he saw a girl walking down to him.
    It was the same girl he saw before a while.
    The girl saw those green eyes
    She came close to him with a smile.

    • ANSWER:
      I found it to be more of a short story than a poem, I guess if you wanted to be technical about it one could call this a pros but just barely.
      personally I found this poem more creepy than anything else, if that was what you where going for than congrats.

  6. QUESTION:
    what is your interpretation about this poem?
    The Summer of Black Widows
    Sherman Alexie

    The spiders appeared suddenly
    after that summer rainstorm.

    Some people still insist the spiders fell with the rain
    while others believe the spiders grew from the damp soil like weeds with eight thin roots.

    The elders knew the spiders
    carried stories in their stomachs.

    We tucked our pants into our boots when we walked through fields of fallow stories.
    An Indian girl opened the closet door and a story fell into her hair.
    We lived in the shadow of a story trapped in the ceiling lamp.
    The husk of a story museumed on the windowsill.
    Before sleep, we shook our blankets and stories fell to the floor.
    A story floated in a glass of water left on the kitchen table.
    We opened doors slowly and listened for stories.
    The stories rose on hind legs and offered their red bellies to the most beautiful Indians.
    Stories in our cereal boxes.
    Stories in our firewood.
    Stories in the pockets of our coats.
    We captured stories and offered them to the ants, who carried the stories back to their queen.
    A dozen stories per acre.
    We poisoned the stories and gathered their remains with broom and pan.

    The spiders disappeared suddenly
    after that summer lightning storm.

    Some people still insist the spiders were burned to ash
    while others believe the spiders climbed the lightning bolts and became a new constellation.

    The elders knew the spiders
    had left behind bundles of stories.

    Up in the corners of our old houses
    we still find those small, white bundles
    and nothing, neither fire
    nor water, neither rock nor wind,
    can bring them down.

    my question is…
    what spider represents?
    what function to the spiders serve in the community?
    how is this poem a narrative poem?
    can you help me please…thanks a lot!

    • ANSWER:

  7. QUESTION:
    Plz comment on my poem..?
    Mask man#
    In the middle of the night
    He entered the lonely house through window pane
    I’m the thief i’m gonna loot
    He said to himself,and checked the gun again.
    No one’s gonna see him he thought
    As he was wearing a full face mask.
    His green eyes were the only flashing thing
    He smiled coz stealing is not a big task.

    The mask man thinks he is the bad boy
    Nothing’s gonna stop him this night
    Making his move without the light.

    Then he entered a room gently pushing the door
    And saw the big lamp in the corner still turned red
    Mask man took a glimpse of the room
    And found someone on the bed.
    He took a step back then he hit the table
    Glass doll fell and shattered he had to pay the price.
    It made the girl to wake up
    She stood in silence as she saw those green eyes.

    The mask man doubts was he the bad boy
    Is she gonna stop him in this night
    As he moves towards from dark to light.

    Mask man saw the girl and she was beautiful
    He looked her again
    Then he ran through the window pane.

    Mask man found himself in the morning
    Walking down the city street.
    Mask was off his head but girl in his mind
    Never seen a girl such a beauty n sweet.
    Then he saw a girl walking down to him.
    It was the same girl he saw before a while.
    The girl saw those green eyes
    She came close to him with a smile.

    • ANSWER:
      Mask Man; The idea of giving both the man and the girl green eyes is brilliant!
      If you were to edit the poem at all, you could add choruses after all the longer verses.
      One idea is to accentuate the green eyes, perhaps so:-

      Green was the colour of his mask too
      And the girls green nightgown was almost see through.

      Green were her eyes, and sparkled too.
      No fear was there, only love so true.

      Yes, I give it 9 out of 10!

  8. QUESTION:
    Plz comment on my poem..?
    Mask man#
    In the middle of the night
    He entered the lonely house through window pane
    I’m the thief i’m gonna loot
    He said to himself,and checked the gun again.
    No one’s gonna see him he thought
    As he was wearing a full face mask.
    His green eyes were the only flashing thing
    He smiled coz stealing is not a big task.

    The mask man thinks he is the bad boy
    Nothing’s gonna stop him this night
    Making his move without the light.

    Then he entered a room gently pushing the door
    And saw the big lamp in the corner still turned red
    Mask man took a glimpse of the room
    And found someone on the bed.
    He took a step back then he hit the table
    Glass doll fell and shattered he had to pay the price.
    It made the girl to wake up
    She stood in silence as she saw those green eyes.

    The mask man doubts was he the bad boy
    Is she gonna stop him in this night
    As he moves towards from dark to light.

    Mask man saw the girl and she was beautiful
    He looked her again
    Then he ran through the window pane.

    Mask man found himself in the morning
    Walking down the city street.
    Mask was off his head but girl in his mind
    Never seen a girl such a beauty n sweet.
    Then he saw a girl walking down to him.
    It was the same girl he saw before a while.
    The girl saw those green eyes
    She came close to him with a smile

    • ANSWER:
      I was totally engaged from the first line. The ending is a real surprise and gave me quite a chill. You have a good narrative knack, and not enough people, imo, write narrative poetry.

  9. QUESTION:
    Plz comment on my poem..?
    Mask man#
    In the middle of the night
    He entered the lonely house through window pane
    I’m the thief i’m gonna loot
    He said to himself,and checkd the gun again.
    No one’s gonna see him he thought
    As he was wearing a full face mask.
    His green eyes were the only flashing thing
    He smiled coz stealing is not a big task.

    The mask man thinks he is the bad boy
    Nothing’s gonna stop him this night
    Making his move without the light.

    Then he entered a room gently pushing the door
    And saw the big lamp in the corner still turned red
    Mask man took a glimpse of the room
    And found someone on the bed.
    He took a step back then he hit the table
    Glass doll fell and shattered he had to pay the price.
    It made the girl to wake up
    She stood in silence as she saw those green eyes.

    The mask man doubts was he the bad boy
    Is she gonna stop him in this night
    As he moves towards from dark to light.

    Mask man saw the gir and she was beautiful
    He looked her again
    Then he ran through the window pane.

    Mask man found himself in the morning
    Walking down the city street.
    Mask was off his head but girl in his mind
    Never seen a girl such a beauty n sweet.
    Then he saw a girl walking down to him.
    It was the same girl he saw before a while.
    The girl saw those green eyes
    She came close to him with a smile.

    • ANSWER:
      Hi. Your poem is deep and very touching, strong feelings and emotions. I love the words choices between the stanzas. The topic and the form makes your poem flow nicely. You make your readers feel with you, this is very good, the images and the picture words you painted is very interesting like a story in a book. Awesome poetic persona and you have an active imagination. I’m loving the last two stanzas you summed it up wonderfully, bringing the message home. Keep this up.

  10. QUESTION:
    Plz comment on my poem..?
    Mask man#
    In the middle of the night
    He entered the lonely house through window pane
    I’m the thief i’m gonna loot
    He said to himself,and checkd the gun again.
    No one’s gonna see him he thought
    As he was wearing a full face mask.
    His green eyes were the only flashing thing
    He smiled coz stealing is not a big task.

    The mask man thinks he is the bad boy
    Nothing’s gonna stop him this night
    Making his move without the light.

    Then he entered a room gently pushing the door
    And saw the big lamp in the corner still turned red
    Mask man took a glimpse of the room
    And found someone on the bed.
    He took a step back then he hit the table
    Glass doll fell and shattered he had to pay the price.
    It made the girl to wake up
    She stood in silence as she saw those green eyes.

    The mask man doubts was he the bad boy
    Is she gonna stop him in this night
    As he moves towards from dark to light.

    Mask man saw the girl and she was beautiful
    He looked her again
    Then he ran through the window pane.

    Mask man found himself in the morning
    Walking down the city street.
    Mask was off his head but girl in his mind
    Never seen a girl such a beauty n sweet.
    Then he saw a girl walking down to him.
    It was the same girl he saw before a while.
    The girl saw those green eyes
    She came close to him with a smile.

    • ANSWER:
      Haha it’s good man!

      I think it could use a bit of tidying up but if you wanted to leave it raw and overlay it on some ill bass beats then get someone with a clear and deep Jamaican accent to read it then it would actually sound really good man. Kind of a Damien Marley parody 🙂


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