here is where we chirp, written lines known as tweeting- compressed ideas— Bill D. Johnston (@bedeejay) September 13, 2013
here is where we chirp, written lines known as tweeting- compressed ideas
Burned flesh in the nostrils, napalm nightmare haunting the brain, destroys the rhythm of life.
The End will come too soon. Watch the land. Watch the seas Watch the skies for signs, for it… The End.
He pretends to be a hard boiled eg… He actually has a soft yolk. Sometimes, when he acts tough, he is secretly fluid. If you get to know him, he removes
sky shapeshifters take infinite forms on the azure canvas.
I went to Coin Lent to get some money pumped. But all my cash I spent, and all my cred was dumped.
winter mirror mysterious prints at crosstime junction
Monsters under our beds are phantoms in our heads. Gurus shout such ghosts at our ear… and fears.
The day the Earth stood still was one minute after the Great Sun of Truth arose. Ea… awakes!
Once we had a happy planet with apogees and perigees.
The archer aims, hoping it is true. The arrow flies. Is the eye hit new?
I huffed my ego, by pouring me into it– She popped my balloon.
Went to the hall, talked Kingdom y’all through swapping yarns for we give a darn, then sang our songs.
Coffee perks in the pot. It heats to perfection. Come, we commune with our cups of coffee.
end of long trip around the solar system– finished the book
lowly paid pawns moved and sacrificed on the board– minimum wage slaves