Will this world remember you

Matin d'Adieu Michael Jackson

Dear God, let us be alive before we die.

The violent hours

The violent hours.
Thoughts like tired birds.
To be beloved in this world,
The hungry night.
Redeem what you must do now.
A conscious decadence
Trying to tempt truth to dance with me.
What do i know?
Breathe fearlessly.

-le 7 mai 2009

melbourne eyes

....succulent and vivid

Sunday Morning Permutation

i'm up early here being graced with many wonderful different birds talking singing sqawks
to my ears that speaksings to me each morning just beyond the glass of my elevated abode.
i yearn one daily voice in particular to see his or her song and what types couleurs of body feathers is worn up there in all those tress by that one my feather friend. i am grateful to witness the cyclical permutation as dawn veers her head latterly, the world shifting as darkness lengthens with the sun's ebbing presence in the heavens reversing.

third person narrative

......third person narrative evokes the writer and the character(s).