It'll be good.
Possibly monumental.
And perhaps I will try my tender little hand at poetry.
It will have to be witty of course, and bone chillingly funny.
An Oscar Wilde sort, but perhaps with a little more PMS.
Cheers!


Number 18Number 18Number 18
My hands curved over an invisible orange Running along the ivory keys My vacant twelve year old eyes Inhaling the buttery skies and candy clouds My raw ears cupping the delicious sonic boom of Bacon crackling in the other room I picture my mother poised over them Turning each sliver of piggy over with care My weight sinking into the satin bench While curly-q baby hairs kiss my forehead My fingers striking the keys The notes rise as clear as glass My mouth twisting into a pout At how breathtakingly short A perfect moment is.
keep it up!
--
I'm not crazy, my reality is just different than yours.
www dot jbeudela dot com
Check out mine if you ever have a chance
SHELLEY
--
Flickr. Facebook. Blog.
--
Surrealist & Dadaist Artist
Nahart & Abrasion
|::NAYMAN.NET::|::Gallery::|::Chat::|
glad you like.
--
i found reason to keep living
oh and the reason, dear
is you.
Previous Page123Next Page