top of page
Cradle of words
Search
The Movement.
The fanatic rode the snake in his blue bus, so did the Cobain doped himself so early, there was no voodoo child left anymore, because...
Chapter 7: Straight Highway
I put my gloves on, with my black shades, turn the keys, and start the engine blades, turn the accelerator, and begin my journey ahead,...
Marching Orders
Marching ants, vibrant sunflowers, flowing waves of birds, everything was not so complex as a flock of herds, life was never that easy as...
A poetry blog, for the not so poet in you
bottom of page