If you’re a blogger, you’ve already done the hard part by creating great content — so you should share that content as widely as possible! One way is by giving your audience an audio option, as wel…
A pretty Gypsy girl, I watched her circle-dance with the sea. Spring Equinox brought me to the live music, the Gypsy girl befriended me in early Spring, she told me, I had the saddest eyes in Monterey.
We danced to the good songs and I loved her coffee-brown eyes, her laughter. She told me, I was New York born and I was reborn Big Sur free and my Gypsy soul was found. I left the noise of New York and the sea is my love now. I loved her long brown hair blowing in the Pacific wind, I loved how her long white cotton dress moved with her body as she danced with the moving waves. She came to me and she whispered. Dark Poet, the only way to forget the regret of yesterday is to create better places. better memories. Please toss-off your shoes and you…
We steal, we borrow, we loan and we want more, we want less. Pretty feet, soft and tender legs I kissed softly and I looked into her eyes. Her beautiful face looked angelic and she whispered. Make me believe I am the only one, make me know the torment, the tranquil of where you and I, can become one.
I kissed her stomach and she caressed my hair and face. I whispered, I want to hear the sweet songs, I want to know what make you feel alive, I want to know what make you wild and untamed. We have played hide and seek for too long, kiss and never tell and we stood nude at the open window often, praying for more and more to the moon and to the sun.
You are my beauty, my storm, my whiskey straight girl and we…
I’m proud to share an exhaustive account of the inception and the fruition of the Kali Projectby Co-EditorCandice Louisa Daquin published in the Borderless Journal.
Borderless is a journal with a goal of connecting all writers and readers beyond the bonds of money, nationality, rituals and cultures… to a world of ideals. We look for any positive input — humour, poetry, prose. There are no boundaries to human imagination and thought and that is what we are set to explore.
“So please, sing me another song.
Let me get lost in you.”
It was the way your voice varied on the wind. That mysterious timbre, sounding like it came from more than one person, singing in some strange harmony. It reminded me of wolves howling in the night and I felt a shiver travel down my spine. But it wasn’t from fear. It felt as though something deep within me awakened. And whatever part of me that was alive at last understood on some cellular level that your voice was the most beautiful thing is ever heard. I knew then. I’d never want to hear anything but the songs you could sing to me.