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samedi, 20 novembre 2010


Poets are dead men
Free from shadows
Blasters of the universe
Burning slowly in a velvet craddle
Throwing pieces of silk
On pure extasy skies

Poets are dragonflies
Born in a surfing shuffle
That flies into tongue and language
Merging all concepts
In strange paradigms
Flowing from their napalm flowers


I would like to print this out, put it on my wall of inspiration... if that's okay to you? My mood today - it brought a tear to my eye. Beautiful.

Écrit par : Narnie | samedi, 20 novembre 2010

ho, no problem at all, use it as you please

Écrit par : gmc | samedi, 20 novembre 2010

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