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The River OBy the tranquoise waters of the River O, Where the trirruping Spalits shone bright And the Gruntsnufflers lay snoloosing In the slumberous air of twilight, Squaliks of men, every one arg-eyedThe River O
Came for the treasures of which legend had told –
The Queen of the twinkle-tipped Mystibells, With her wings of silver and feathers of gold.
Upstream they splooshed, swalooshed and slooshed,
Turned the crystillic waters a cragbog brown,
Watched by silkfaint sun flitters, tiny eyes hellstruck, Shingling with fear, they skimpered back underground. When they came to the
by ~Kazooee
Untitled 3Taste the white-hot cosmic swirls of the rainbows of the night. Breathe in the icicle airUntitled 3
with his sabre-toothed bite. Let your childhood dreams dissolve in acidic daylight.
Paint your ocean deep desires onto the dark side of the moon. Let your stifled soul drift into the sun drenched afternoon and your leaden thoughts drop into a candlelit lagoon.
Leave your daisy chains in fields of daydream diamond dew. The crystal cup of youth is yours, tomorrow is bright, brand new. Escape the sterile black and white world And all whom she
by ~Kazooee
Untitled 2War is over. Peace come instead. But love is lost. And the meaning is dead.Untitled 2
All around grows the crocus and daffodil. But in my world, ‘tis Winter still.
Taunted by the future. Trapped by the past. Every new year is the same as the last.
The rain does fall. The weapons rust. But the wisdom of Stonehenge Has turned to dust.
by ~Kazooee
Fairy TaleThe Glowbell Festival was drawing to a close. A leaf-eared litkin floated down into his lapis lazuli pool, sipping lullaberry wine from a buttercup goblet. Presently, he dipped his Van Gough paws into the dreamcatcher galaxy’s interstellar streams and began to paint the thoughts which inhabited the indigo underground of his poetic wanderings…selachian sea serpents…a black magic abraxas…an apothecary of imaginings unkenned… But, when the charcoal embers of the dying sun-fires were blown over the sea’s mirror-sky, the litkin scurried underneath the opal sand and settled down to sleep. As he did so, the trees,Fairy Tale
by ~Kazooee
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- Brad - It won't rain all the time.
The healing power of alcohol only works on scrapes and nicks -
And not on girls in seedy bars who drown themselves in it...
~Bayside
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