BomBolenath's Profile - Journals |
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She's A Killer QueenBy » BomBolenath on Sat 26 Jul, 20081 Comment | She keeps Moet et Chandon In a pretty cabinet 'Let them eat cake' she says Just like Marie Antoinette A built-in remedy For Khrushchev and Kennedy At anytime an invitation You can't decline Caviar and cigarettes Well versed in etiquette Extraordinarily nice Chorus: She's a Killer... |
Indigo RisingBy » BomBolenath on Sun 27 May, 20072 Comments | Take me down to where I want to be; a place for you, for you and for me Down to the bits of what I've become One more time in the dark, I'll dance with you; and then I know, that we are through, and that we must live apart. At night when I peer over the sea, I wonder could you be peering... |
The Next Ring on the SpiralBy » BomBolenath on Sat 21 Apr, 20072 Comments | A quiet Paris morning.... Coffee and Cannabis for breakfast. I'm forever comtemplating this summer. At the end of last summer, my life underwent an immense quantum shift. Simple part-time work with lots of party. Then I Whirlwinded off to this city... which is like FranceLand-3D. I had to learn... |
Born to be AliveBy » BomBolenath on Thu 18 Jan, 20070 Comments | We were born to be alive People ask me why I never find a place to stop And settle down, down, down But I never wanted all those things People need to justify Their lives, lives, lives We were born to be alive Time was on my side When I was running down the street It was so fine... |
L.S.D.By » BomBolenath on Fri 24 Nov, 20061 Comment | Summers in the sand. Or is it those sticky summer nights with a 40 in hand. No matter how many games this wild mind of mine may play with me, I've still got those memories. I'll never forget mush tripping in the forest with Katie. That very well might have been one of the most magical mush trips... |
Unforseen CircumstancesBy » BomBolenath on Fri 13 Oct, 20060 Comments | “Working late?” Terra assumed out loud. Daniel stopped fixing his bagel and walked affectionately towards his wife. As she sat by the kitchen table, under the yellow of morning sun, his arms drifted to her shoulders. His hands worked her shoulders so wonderfully, his fingertips running... |
Awen, Oh; Inderlude of MythBy » BomBolenath on Fri 13 Oct, 20060 Comments | Inside a delicate maddened mind rests an uneven peace. Alone, on a struggle, the shadows are overtaking him. He sits by the pool and for a moment all is still. Gentle tucking winds arise; chaos magic begins filtering through. In another corner, there is no hope, only despair. Yet on the other hand... |
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