Creating sagas out of pictures and words
Organized in windowed snapshots of time
Manipulating sounds silently through POW and SNIKT
It is an artform consumed by young and old
Capturing the human condition with characters who are more than that
Creating sagas out of pictures and words
Organized in windowed snapshots of time
Manipulating sounds silently through POW and SNIKT
It is an artform consumed by young and old
Capturing the human condition with characters who are more than that
Sounds dancing harmoniously within her soul
Oozing the gospel of the human experience like the sweat dripping from her pores
Never missing the beat of her nervous heart
Giving a moment that connected all dots, all the people, all the experiences
Neal felt the walls come closer together the farther underground he went
As they constricted his movement, his breathing became more rapid
Restricting his vision to a narrow strip of darkness in front of him
Raspy sounds escaped his mouth as his breath became shallow
Obstinately he pushed on as his vision began to gray out
Wiggling free he took a deep breath and felt the freedom to the bottom of his lungs
Image: cumberlandcaverns.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/Cumberland-Caverns-Caving.jpg
Don’t ever stop spinning around
It makes you the center of the universe
Zany as that sounds
Zero reasons not to do this unless
You get motion sickness easily, then…
Image: i.pinimg.com/564x/48/57/10/485710ba35398e72fe78cdd296b87e00.jpg
New sounds erupted from behind Marc
It spurred him to run even faster
Gun shots rang out, shattering the asphalt on either side of him
He made a hard right turn to get some cover from a parked Hummer
The tires on the vehicle soon flattened
Marc fumbled for his gun before peaking up above the hood
A silence descended on the scene, and Marc couldn’t see his assailants
Rapidly his heart hammered as he waited for a target
Everything exploded when his alarm went off and he woke up
Image: upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9c/Hummer_H2_.jpg
Sounds escaped the sax that built a castle of blue ice
Over that the horns mourned the loss of innocence
Until the drums came in, then picked up the tempo
Letting everything melt into an ecstasy of melody
Image: publicdomainpictures.net/pictures/170000/velka/chalked-blackboard-saxophone.jpg
Perhaps it is the way words touch our souls
Or it could be the sensualness of their sounds
Either way, when paired down to their essence
The ability to inflict an emotion through abstract symbols
Reaches the primal part of our humanity
Yielding art and a sense of wonder
Abdi Mohammed
The Art of Prose and Poetry
self-publishing
Sarah Torribio and her right brain. Music. Musings. Writing. Style.
We Survived and Arrived - Now as Warriors We Thrive
With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger
Sharing is Learning
AUTHOR
Random Stuff I Think You'll Like
Things I love, typically with people I love. Will likely be hiking, baking, and doing other things that make me happy.
The Official Home of Rolli - Author, Cartoonist and Songwriter
Your favourite witchy magazine
Story world