02 Dec 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
When you go, away from me and dream of things, you long to be
I’ll be there, to hold you tight, to keep you safe, throughout the night
So when you go, to sleep, my dear, leave behind, your world and fears
and dream of things, you long to be, when you go, away from me
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03 Dec 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
I was told I still had family in Belgrade. My grandmother had given me addresses of relatives so at one point I considered visiting, but the negative idea of just showing up on somebody’s doorstep crept in. I ran it by Jenni. She didn’t have any plans of her own and kind of reluctantly agreed to follow, as long as we were heading north. We spent the rest of the day seeing some of the sights and roaming the streets. The one thing I didn’t want to do was to visit another museum. (more…)
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04 Dec 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, 0 Comments
It was very late, or to be more accurate, real early in the morning. Outside the station it was dark and cold, really cold. Neither one of us were equipped for that type of weather. The streets were covered in ice and our worn tennis shoes didn’t provide much if any traction. When we exited the station we had no idea which way to head to find ourselves a room. There were two others that also exited our train so we began following them in the hopes they would lead us down the right path. We came to a large boulevard lined with large office shaped buildings but there were no signs or lights that provided us any indication that we were heading in the right direction. (more…)
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04 Dec 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
I once had a friend and oh did we soar, so many new things, never seen them before
flyin’ so high, within the night air, moment to moment, without even a care
There’s a joy, in the height, when looking on down, I notice them moving, just wandering around
to hover above, to circle again, wondering why and wondering when
I felt so free, like a bird through the air, moment to moment, I had not a care
The night, was our own, to adventure the wind, reality my canvas, the paints to pretend
not a fear in the world, to go where I dare, wandering here and wandering there
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04 Dec 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, 0 Comments
You say I’m dreamin and it’s really nothin new, you know, I must be dreamin, baby, to think I had a clue
where ever I go and, whatever I do, I can never seem to find a way and it’s got me feelin blue
This has got to be, some kind of dream, why can’t I open up my eyes
cause every time I see you, I’m back and I don’t know why
Were drivin down that same old road, down to nothin new, you know,
I must be dreamin, baby, to think I had a clue
I thought, I thought I knew the way but every time I’m coming close, somehow you slip away
You know it’s true, I can never seem to find a way and it’s got me feelin blue
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