Like the versionA Poem by andrew mitchell
In English
one would say I have a headache coming on. In poetry one would say. As the cold wind from the north permeates the cranial chamber, the synaptic highways are snowed under where dendrites and axons are laced, frozen with crystalline icicles resembling a looking glass. Meanwhile heavy rain and flooding surround the eye sockets once empty. In the distance I see a light, a shining light, a bright light emulating from a red cylindrical box called a Tardis. Who would have thought! Maybe a Doctor! And there you have it a throbbing headache in full technicolor , CinemaScope if you’re lucky. showing the two versions of literature. © 2024 andrew mitchellFeatured Review
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5 Reviews Added on January 27, 2024 Last Updated on January 27, 2024 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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