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Anyone can love a pretty little mansion…

Outstanding poetry and story told. Please enjoy and read.

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We are born to live..

We are born to live… The Monterey dark poet loved the street artist. Male or female, who can create with their hands. Everlasting beautiful artwork, beautiful things for the world to observe. He… Continue reading →

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Bare foot girls.

 Do we create our place in our world?  I have always loved the bare foot girls, shoeless girls can feel the sand or the grassy open fields with their tender feet. They don’t… Continue reading →

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One tin soldier walked away. And the beautiful O’Neill sisters song.

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A beautiful Tosha Hill Wednesday.

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Eu não quero saber(I don’t want to know)

Originally posted on Anaklarah's alive words:
Cara fechada, e peito abertoMas eu não quero saber…Apenas as cicatrizes ficarão, é certo…E pouco mais há para entender… Domadora de mim e de minhas doresO…

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In the year 2525… One of the great songs.

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The eve of destruction. Barry McGuire song , same meaning today.

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Is it, everything you wanted?

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Beatrice Marcella, my Winter storm..

Beatrice Marcella, my Winter storm… Dante’s Beatrice left him to swim in the misery of so close and so far away. She allowed him to travel to hell and back to find her.… Continue reading →

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