Rising from the dust of chalk, 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, and 1 frigging bag of Cheetos. Who gives a rhinoceros? Ask the fool, who Thomas Jefferson was? He can't recite the Pledge of Allegiance but he knows how many chicken wings are in a bushel, that...
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Adagio
8 minutes ago
0 miles · Savannah
Stories
Through the fields of golden hearing of the winter in their cry a whispering of snow and the dawning of the frost something told the wild geese to go with the ever-changing sky... it was time to fly through the fields of golden
She sang my soul of polished memories as her shadow awakes neath the hush when her soft voice died on the wings of angels so deep the silence of her echoes on clear nights from the winds that ride the tides of love
As the night begins to swarm using nitrous oxide with a beer chaser teetering on the brink of insanity in the charms of the body farm beneath the dirt's jaw candy of lessons learned from the past with a cricket's toothache using death's pickaxe and dental...
In my dreams, a hundred years of sleep from tiny buds to crimson rose tickled by the hermit bees as the slumberous brierwood doze in dawn's twilight glow sweet as the dew of heaven's caress of soft leaves pressed between written words and prayers kept
With whispers of cornets leaves shaking from trees ticklish poems of Autumn falling in a gentle breeze of dawn's twilight as if a colorful rainbow holding hands with nature listening to wind chimes as they dance the coquette with whispers of cornets
The wayward dark soul of twilight shadow of the devil's hermaphrodite skeleton among the stones a vessel awaking from the grave to reign on ashes of bones dragged through the gate of Hell with cinder of death's breath resurrecting the crypt of dawn in a m...
Between a distance of a smile the valance of your breath touched by the wind chimes with a shadow of leaves in between the wine sap tree and the god's honey mead as waves wade upon the shore through sands of a silent opera of life's sweet apple core in be...
On boulevards of broken dreams where the sidewalk ends touched again by memories only to end as a fantasy with a broken heart and wrinkle nose from the incense, I suppose, knowing how this symphony ends on boulevards of broken dreams
Memories of conversations and a penny's worth of sawdust. Is there a heaven? Mom said there was. With unicorns and porch swings. She would take me in her arms and hug me. Touching my cheek with her tears as she passed, with a penny's worth of sawdust in h...
Death takes no middle ground I might as well be a ghost running helter skelter between late and early past my epithet as I pull a rabbit out of the hat feeling not afraid but pocket lint has no place in my soul or emptiness leaving me half full
My soul is my gothic violin with the bow of the picador played softly in solo in the world of my dark oyster warming my marrows blood running cold in a caravan with a melody of strings and the madness it brings fathoms deep among the dead... my soul is my...
Moonlight dancing over silent waters gently flowing over soft quarters across stones and leaves of caravels cascading over the water mill of my mind as heaven in all its glory shines lighting the golden pond with the water that has past gently flowing ove...
Beyond the realm of dawn's twilight where wind makers bring sighs soaring with angels reaching the sky as the stars resemble lamp-lighters and the dream-maker stands as old as the treebeard