The hairs raise at the back of your neck as the beat tells us to rave.
Pointing in direction,
The fingers that stretch,
In beat with the rave; cradles of candlelight.
Toes which hammer,
Rhythm to rhyme,
For the DJ: Equipment in partner, spark bright.
Diving cranium jumps,
To the melody of others,
Overdrive propels bass and treble; violating.
Closing the senses,
The sight in glory and sweat,
Flashes die down of thrashes, annihilating.
Swaying with push,
Fenced: Hitting either side,
Sharper Synth of darkness obscured, dropped.
Bubbles echoed with slang,
Gripped lips,
A whisper towered over the focused; cropped.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 832 times
Written on 2005-10-22 at 09:33
Tags Hardcore Deep Warm
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Raver.
Scratches on target, bodies readying for the start...Pointing in direction,
The fingers that stretch,
In beat with the rave; cradles of candlelight.
Toes which hammer,
Rhythm to rhyme,
For the DJ: Equipment in partner, spark bright.
Diving cranium jumps,
To the melody of others,
Overdrive propels bass and treble; violating.
Closing the senses,
The sight in glory and sweat,
Flashes die down of thrashes, annihilating.
Swaying with push,
Fenced: Hitting either side,
Sharper Synth of darkness obscured, dropped.
Bubbles echoed with slang,
Gripped lips,
A whisper towered over the focused; cropped.
Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 832 times
Written on 2005-10-22 at 09:33
Tags Hardcore Deep Warm
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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 by John Ashleigh Latest textsDesignDylan. In between love. Transcend. Fingertips. My favoritesNightlightPhoenix Seulement One Week from Tomorrow. Betrayed |
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