(2014)
here is where we chirp, written lines known as tweeting- compressed ideas— Bill D. Johnston (@bedeejay) ...
Burned flesh in the nostrils, napalm nightmare haunting the brain, destroys the rhythm of life.
lowly paid pawns moved and sacrificed on the board– minimum wage slaves
I went to Coin Lent to get some money pumped. But all my cash I spent, and all my cred was dumped.
a furious air and neighborhood destruction– somebody’s lost pet
The day the Earth stood still was one minute after the Great Sun of Truth arose. Ea… awakes!
Went to the hall, talked Kingdom y’all through swapping yarns for we give a darn, then sang our songs.
gentle breeze on the beach– sudden rain
Coffee perks in the pot. It heats to perfection. Come, we commune with our cups of coffee.
The archer aims, hoping it is true. The arrow flies. Is the eye hit new?
dropplets, dropping down, sinking slowly in soil are Mother’s helpers.
The End will come too soon. Watch the land. Watch the seas Watch the skies for signs, for it… The End.
Monsters under our beds are phantoms in our heads. Gurus shout such ghosts at our ear… and fears.
Snow melts. Waterfalls streaming rivulets off roofs slake the thirsty ground.
Once we had a happy planet with apogees and perigees.
