lanlan

They call themselves free spirits, dancing minds, sons of Hathor. Often, people stop by the Garage and listen. On rainy days, when the streets are uncrowded, I stand outside their holy tavern for hours, tapping my sneakers to the rhythm of their music-making. Steady beats, fingers snapping, just chillin' for themselves, laughing and talking like they have all the time in the world. The blonde drummer doesn't have much academic talent, but a carefree sense of humor and a handsome smile that can warm your heart anytime. In the corner is the keyboard player with frigid blue eyes, who occasionally cracks an honest smile or two when he's in the mo

My Place As I fly Jealous birds look ahead Blinded by the morning light I invited Clouds shift, winds carry I need not flap my wings Moving along with mother nature And my hands reach toward the ground As I walk The world walks with me Rolling along with my rapid footsteps Arms swinging, feet laxed Singing to the rhythm Of my live-beat poetry And my mind escapes my fingertips As I sit I am not still But dancing with the fog outside my window Spring flowers, autumn leaves Time flies with my song For I am still alive And my heart shall wander forever I am running fast Will you catch up? March 4th, 2004