 |
Current mood:  imaginative Category: Blogging
I remember the breathing
the inhale, the exhale
pushing....pulsating.
White light,
aliens and alley cats
I have seen what it is like to be the smallest particle.
I heard the sound of helicopters and crushing rain,
and the blow of Saxon axes dealing a fatal blow.
I swam, drowned, and I washed up on the Northumbrian Shore.....
or was it the California coast?
A sound like fighter jets in formation
And sometimes a gentle breath, whispering secrets.
These raging winds of time,
slamming like cold steel,
pagan ritual,
alien manuscripts,
guitars,
castle walls,
rock an roll clubs,
And old roman roads.
Frankie Lee Drennen - Stewboss /Dead Rock West
9:14 PM
Powered by  | | English | | Albanian | | Arabic | | Bulgarian | | Catalan | | Chinese | | Croatian | | Czech | | Danish | | Dutch | | Estonian | | Filipino | | Finnish | | French | | Galician | | German | | Greek | | Hebrew | | Hindi | | Hungarian | | Indonesian | | Italian | | Japanese | | Korean | | Latvian | | Lithuanian | | Maltese | | Norwegian | | Polish | | Portuguese | | Romanian | | Russian | | Serbian | | Slovak | | Slovenian | | Spanish | | Swedish | | Thai | | Turkish | | Ukrainian | | Vietnamese |
|