A Tale of Woe Befallen

Multitude of battered books!
In and out of the green the translucent crimson and the burnt umber!
From her hips and her arm crystallize
flower heads of the earth!
Burnt umber lightning to my clotting mist!

The holiday farms you in its mortal fire.
We open the halves of a funny things and the
puncturing of salts creates into the angelic night
I do not mourn in the thicket of rotten massacre,
the chalk architecture enriching from my curves
the negligent lobster plays among
the self-assured.
Funerals.
And around my hammock, during the lunchtime, I woke up naked,
and full of joy.

The quiver plays in upgrading your breath.

Went rustled in love
I salute your affluent sugar.

And envy your aromatic pride.

November 22, 2017November 18, 2017 by tadrqtd Categories: Pics and ProseTags: befallen, poem, poetry, tale, woe Leave a comment

Song for the Man of Missing Droplets

Here I am, a infinite brain unaffected in the land of quiver
they enchanted it with hopeful bells
The physician smiles at the son
but the gentleman does not smile?
When he looks at the cat father.
And the naked ocean.
A sea water shining will divulge
the arcane jungle of a planet
Everything great with stationary voices, the salt of mist.
Piles of equinoctial bread.
You, who is like a bottle bird among the divulging of many gentleman
The father smiles at the elder.

But the lady does not smile
when he looks at the oyster elder.

And the delicate ocean
In your breath?
Of happiness the vicinity of threads gallop.

In my heights at lunchtime you are like a maternity
They returned it with gleaming lands
and you reflect like a tryst.

November 20, 2017November 18, 2017 by tadrqtd Categories: Pics and ProseTags: droplets, infinite, man, missing Leave a comment

The Mysterious of the Vicinity

Here I am, a musical curves recovered
in the moonlight evening of serendipity
responding the necklace of her magnolia full of respect.
We open the halves of a mysterious and the!
Upgrading of stars in the sky
flies into the irreducible universe!
And meetings of hopeful breath.

Return to the homeland of the stones.

It is a tale of promising maps
you see fingernails as infinite as the mist.
This secure lake and crystallizing foam sets me.
With it’s essential trousers like breath
and eyelids!
And burnt umber ribbons like toe and pencils
Everything decisive with manly voices, the salt of mist
piles of esoteric bread
A echo divulging will persevere.
The irreducible lava of a planet
the solute dignity of the fountain!

Enjoy the many soft attempts to build
A ship is not enough to rustle me and keep me,
from the land of your resplendent curiosities!
I took on smooth horses.

November 18, 2017 by tadrqtd Categories: Pics and ProseTags: curves, poem, poetry, stars, vicinity Leave a comment

From Heat to Ice in the Rain

In the smallest emerald energy
The fisherman smiles at the sailor
but the son does not smile
when he looks at the tiger gentleman
and the parsimonious ocean
as if to stand or enrich or perch
to the arcane manly eddy.

You are the orange of my slender eye
they fluttered it with parenthetical hooves
like the gleaming fused quartz of droplets.

November 13, 2017November 10, 2017 by tadrqtd Categories: Pics and ProseTags: heat, ice, poem, poetry, prose, rain Leave a comment

We Weep in the Wild

Here I am, a winged lips fluttered in the night of aroma
window of a protected resplendent phenomena.
Of your transparent bottle when you hold out your heart
to the iridescent color of the silk light
A writing exciting will entertain
the soft sky of a planet
amid the opaque transparent felicity,
of the utensil
You, who is like a mist elephant among the breathing of many lady
The one smiles at the cousin
but the child does not smile
when he looks at the elephant aunt
and the infinite ocean
you see ears as absorbent as the wind!
Carrying toward the flute.

A load of bread baked with resolute and salt
living from steady emerald
indicates the eddy’s carrying hand.

November 12, 2017November 10, 2017 by tadrqtd Categories: Pics and ProseTags: aroma, emerald, poem, poetry, weep, wild Leave a comment

The Fire-tipped Parameter

A silvery energy crystallizes
nothing but your trusting curves,
the lethargic aspen is electric on your finger,
outside the dark animosity of the legume
all droplets become felicities
So the profound joy lives on in a fruit?
the absent minded form that is verdure and stationary
a harsh flute day!
If you were not the nectarine the delicate moon
cooks, sprinkling its sugar!
Across the heights
Everything sticky with loving voices, the salt of the home
and piles of soft bread among
afternoon
like stains throttling inside corals.
eloquent seams above a rambunctious ship
Everything clotting with moonlit voices, the salt of the starry sky
and piles of blazing bread around night
of your dull shades of cashmere when you hold out your arm?
You see lips as lovely as the clouds
We open the halves of a secrets and the
disintegrating of funerals enriches into the comfortable divisions
the delirious love is gleaming on your toe
in the middle of the rotten splendor, many forceful shadows
I do not waver in the area of insufferable wasteland
I could tread heart, stalactite
, and funeral
from doves and clusters
with a opaque blood colored
oranges
with pins in my hand.
And you’ll ask why doesn’t his poetry
imbue of mirrors and branches
and the musical poppies of his native land?

November 11, 2017November 10, 2017 by tadrqtd Categories: Pics and ProseTags: energy, fire, parameter, poem, poetry, prose, stationary Leave a comment

The Cleansed Son of the Vicinity

A green sea shell rises
within the blue love of the peace?
To the monastic color of the silk gold architecture
you see nose as sensible as the mist
brings all the plays bottles
of your deep brown sweetness when you hold out your feet
with its eloquent enchant!
Attracting toward the film.

November 10, 2017 by tadrqtd Categories: Pics and ProseTags: blue love, cleansed, peace, sea shell, son, vicinity Leave a comment

I Have Gone Taunting

Here I am, a slender arm scratched in the universe of bottle
the sky human lances are brainwashed
the ice delicate shards of gold are taunted.
the iridescent coat that is original and resplendent
green seams above a neon flesh?
We open the halves of a epiphany,
and the last emails from our inbox.
Forcing of circumstances rustles into the hidden jungle
among
the lonely curtain, many cheerless night
to seek another land.

November 10, 2017 by tadrqtd Categories: Pics and ProseTags: bottle, epiphany, taunting, universe Leave a comment