The Old Bridge

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The Quebec Bridge (Pont de Québec in French) is a road, rail and pedestrian bridge across the lower Saint Lawrence River between Sainte-Foy (since 2002 a western suburb of Quebec City) and Lévis,Quebec, Canada. The project failed twice, at the cost of 88 lives, and took over 30 years to complete.

The Quebec Bridge is a riveted steel truss structure and is 987 m (3,239 ft) long, 29 m (94 ft) wide, and 104 m (340 ft) high. Cantilever arms 177 m (580 ft) long support a 195 m (640 ft) central structure, for a total span of 549 m (1800 ft), still the longest cantilever bridge span in the world. (It was the all-categories longest span in the world until the Ambassador Bridge was completed in 1929.) It is the easternmost (farthest downstream) complete crossing of the Saint Lawrence.

The bridge accommodates three highway lanes (none until 1929, one until 1949, two until 1993), one rail line (two until 1949), and a pedestrian walkway (originally two); at one time it also carried a streetcar line. It has been owned by the Canadian National Railway since 1993.

The Quebec Bridge was designated a National Historic Site of Canada in 1995.

Source : Wikipedia

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The Breeze

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That Monk

The one that wasn’t actually a monk…

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Nobody is Home

I’ve got a little black book with my poems in.
Got a bag with a toothbrush and a comb in.
When I’m a good dog, they sometimes throw me a bone in.

I got elastic bands keepin my shoes on.
Got those swollen hand blues.
Got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from.
I’ve got electric light.
And I’ve got second sight.
And amazing powers of observation.
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There’ll be nobody home.

I’ve got the obligatory Hendrix perm.
And the inevitable pinhole burns
All down the front of my favorite satin shirt.
I’ve got nicotine stains on my fingers.
I’ve got a silver spoon on a chain.
I’ve got a grand piano to prop up my mortal remains.

I’ve got wild staring eyes.
And I’ve got a strong urge to fly.
But I got nowhere to fly to.
Ooooh, Babe when I pick up the phone

There’s still nobody home.

I’ve got a pair of Gohills boots
and I got fading roots.

Roger Waters

Biker

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Coercion

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Coercion, after all, merely captures man. Freedom captivates him.
Robert McNamara


Coercion /kˈɜrʃən/ is the practice of forcing another party to act in an involuntary manner by use of intimidation or threats or some other form of pressure or force. It involves a set of various types of forceful actions that violate the free will of an individual to induce a desired response, usually having a strict choice or option against a person in such a way a victim cannot escape, for example: a bully demanding lunch money to a student or the student gets beaten. These actions can include, but are not limited to, extortion, blackmail, torture, and threats to induce favors. In law, coercion is codified as a duress crime. Such actions are used as leverage, to force the victim to act in a way contrary to their own interests. Coercion may involve the actual infliction of physical pain/injury or psychological harm in order to enhance the credibility of a threat. The threat of further harm may lead to the cooperation or obedience of the person being coerced.

The Ghetto

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‘Cause Cheap Is How I Feel

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It’s the kind of night that’s so cold, when you spit
it freezes before it hits the ground
And when a bum asks you for a quarter, you give a dollar
if he’s out tonight he must be truly down
And I’m searching all the windows for a last minute present
to prove to you that what I said was real,
for something small and frail and plastic, baby,
’cause cheap is how I feel

Half moon in the sky tonight, bright enough
to come up with an answer
to the question why is it that every time I see you
my love grows a little stronger
But your memory leaves my stomach churning,
feeling like a lie about to be revealed,
but I’ll horde all this to myself
’cause cheap is how I feel

It’s not the smell in here that gets to me it’s the lights
I hate the shadows that they cast,
and the sound of clinking bottles is the one sure thing
I’ll always drag with me from my past
I think I’ll find a pair of eyes tonight, to fall into
and maybe strike a deal
Your body for my soul, fair swap
`cause cheap is how I feel

Michael Edward Timmins

FEARLESS

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Downtown Aroma

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Continue reading “Downtown Aroma”

The Bench

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Going Uptown

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