(2013)
Burned flesh in the nostrils, napalm nightmare haunting the brain, destroys the rhythm of life.
gentle breeze on the beach– sudden rain
a furious air and neighborhood destruction– somebody’s lost pet
Pick up those cups. Embrace those days full of flavors. Savor every single drop. Drink up.
Work defines the bee? Hives shoul… But entries belong on pages. Companies write mission memos. Souls pen living stages.
Coffee perks in the pot. It heats to perfection. Come, we commune with our cups of coffee.
haiku are headlines reporting mother nature the insight stories
I went to Coin Lent to get some money pumped. But all my cash I spent, and all my cred was dumped.
here is where we chirp, written lines known as tweeting- compressed ideas— Bill D. Johnston (@bedeejay) ...
I want to plan and to defer to my future. But, I dream and am caught by my desire.
The End will come too soon. Watch the land. Watch the seas Watch the skies for signs, for it… The End.
YOU and are not us.
Monsters under our beds are phantoms in our heads. Gurus shout such ghosts at our ear… and fears.
I huffed my ego, by pouring me into it– She popped my balloon.
got my surfboard out and rode the photon waves: googled out!