http://slow.writerscafe.org/Alex_Vandool The original writings of author Alex Vandool en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776006252 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 In a village by a lake so still,Lived Amélie, with heart and will,To paint the world in hues of light,Yet shadows danced within her sight.An afternoon of golden grace,The sun kissed earth in warm embrace.Amélie stood, her canvas bare,To capture life, its love, its care.The day a poem, .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929327/ In a small village by a tranquil lake lived Amélie, an artist whose life was as much a canvas of emotion as it was of color. Her days were spent capturing the world through her impressionist brushstrokes, but beneath the vibrant facade, she wrestled with a tumult of fears, doubts, and the rel.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929324/ In a quaint village nestled beside a serene lake, there lived an artist named Amélie. Her life was a canvas of colors, her days spent capturing the beauty of the world through her impressionist brushstrokes. But not all was light in Amélie's world; beneath the vibrant colors lurked sha.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929323/ A ballet of impressionist strokes, where thoughts intertwine like leaves in the breeze. An epiphany, a soft light piercing the canopy, a star being born in the mind's sky. The colors of the day blend together, capturing the very essence of the universe, a symphony of light.That afternoon, a poem in .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929322/ Un tableau de pensées, floues comme des touches de pinceau impressionnistes. Une révélation, une lumière douce perçant à travers les feuillages, comme une aube naissante. Des couleurs se fondent pour capturer l'essence du jour universel. Un après-midi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929320/ Un tableau de pensées, floues comme des touches de pinceau impressionnistes. Une révélation, une lumière douce perçant à travers les feuillages, comme une aube naissante. Des couleurs se fondent pour capturer l'essence du jour universel. Un après-midi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929319/ Un entrelacs de pensées, comme des branches sous le ciel. Une révélation perçant l'obscurité, une étoile naissante. Illuminant l'horizon pour refléter la lumière infinie. Cet après-midi, un tableau doré. Un fleuve de soleil, coula.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929318/ Un ballet de pensées. Une lumière d'éveil dans l'âme. Se déployant pour épouser le jour céleste. Cette après-midi dorée. Ce fleuve de soleil coulant. Cette maturité qui se ferme comme une fleur. Des années de minutes, en qu&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929316/ Une symphonie de pensées. Une épiphanie des profondeurs. S'illuminant pour embrasser le jour cosmique. Cet instant de l'après-midi. Ce flot doré de soleil. Cette ronde lente de l'âge complet. Des années tissées de minutes en quête perpétue.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929315/ Une convergence d'idées. Une révélation profonde. Puis illuminée pour refléter le jour universel. Cet après-midi-là. Ce flux de lumière solaire. Cette maturité se complétant lentement. Des années de minutes, toujours en qu&.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929314/ Une association de pensées. Une réalisation profonde. Puis emplie de lumière pour correspondre au jour universel. Cet après-midi. Ce flot de soleil. Cette complétude de l'âge se refermant lentement. Les années passées de minutes toujours &agrave.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929312/ Titre: Déclin de la Pensée, Murmure de Lumière(Couplet 1)Pensées qui s'effacent, murmure d'une lueur,Crescendos se déchaînent, premier regard en émoi.Cet après-midi, le soleil dansait un ballet,Le temps, en mélodie, tisse l'éternit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929311/ Titre: Déclin de la Pensée, Murmure de Lumière(Couplet 1)Pensées qui s'effacent, murmure d'une lueur,Crescendos se déchaînent, premier regard en émoi.Cet après-midi, le soleil dansait un ballet,Le temps, en mélodie, tisse l'éternit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929310/ Titre: Déclin de la Pensée, Murmure de Lumière(Couplet 1)Avec des pensées qui faiblissent, une lumière qui murmure bas,Les crescendos affluent, le premier regard dans le brouillard brille.Cet après-midi, le soleil dansait et oscillait,Le temps tissait sa m&e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929309/ See new postsRephrase: Decay of thought, a whisper of light, Crescendos - dazed - the first gaze. That afternoon, the sun danced, Time in melody, eternal, endless.Minutes chase years, wandering through dreams, Slow life, work and home lost. Questions fall like notes from the sky, Answers rise, where.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929308/ Decay of Thought, Whisper of LightWith thoughts that wane, a light that whispers low,Crescendos rush, first gaze in haze does glow.That afternoon, the sun did dance and sway,Time wove its melody, eternal play.Minutes chase the years, in dreams they roam,Life slows down, work and home become unknown... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929307/ Decay of thought, a whisper of light, Crescendos - dazed - the first gaze. That afternoon, the sun danced, Time in melody, eternal, endless.  Minutes chase years, wandering through dreams, Slow life, work and home lost. Questions fall like notes from the sky, Answers rise, where angels rest.&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929305/ Dead time's a thoughtSongs fade - light murmurs, flutters, shimmers - eyes disintegrate (or: degrade, or: and degrade, or: or degrade)Crescendos overwhelm, a dazed first look. That afternoon, the sun twirled (like a cane), Time sang, endless, ageless.Out of tune?Minutes pursue years, drifting in dre.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929302/ Decay of Thought, Whisper of LightThoughts fade, light murmurs,Crescendos overwhelm, a dazed first look.That afternoon, the sun twirled,Time sang, endless, ageless.Minutes pursue years, drifting in dreams,Life slows, work and home vanish.Questions descend like musical notes,Answers ascend, where pea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929301/ Decay of thought, a whisper of light, Crescendos - dazed - the first gaze. That afternoon, the sun danced, Time in melody, eternal, endless.Minutes chase years, wandering through dreams, Slow life, work and home lost. Questions fall like notes from the sky, Answers rise, where angels rest.Shadow of .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929299/ In the great city, where the new meets the old,Lived a woman, suffering but a poetess,Not for beauty or wealth, but for versesThat captured the ephemeral, time itself.One afternoon, under the waltz of the sun,She wrote words that would unveil her future:"Decay of thought, a whisper of light,Crescend.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929296/ Dans la décadence de la pensée, un murmure de lumière, révélant des crescendos - indaze - premier regard. Cet après-midi, le soleil dansait vif, La mélodie du temps, sereine, en vol sans fin.Les minutes chassent les années, à travers les.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929295/ Nella decadenza del pensiero, un mormorio di luce, rivelando crescendi - indaze - primo sguardo. Quel pomeriggio, il sole danzava vivace, La melodia del tempo, serena, in volo senza fine.I minuti cacciano gli anni, attraverso i sogni vagano, Ritmo rallentato della vita, nel lavoro e casa perduta. Le.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929294/ Dans la mégapole, où la modernité se heurtait aux traditions anciennes, vivait une femme souvent qualifiée de malade mentale. Pour ses rares amis, elle n'était pas connue pour sa richesse ou sa beauté, mais pour sa capacité profonde à capturer .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929292/ In the city of Eldoria, where modernity clashed with ancient traditions, there lived a poet named Elara. She was known not for her wealth or beauty but for her profound ability to capture the ephemeral essence of life in her verses. One particular afternoon, under the spell of the sun's waltz across.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929290/ In decadence of thought, a whisper of light, revealing crescendos - indaze - first sight. That afternoon, beamed sunwaltz bright, Time's melody, serene, in endless flight.Minutes chase years, through dreams they roam, Slowed rhythm of life, in work and lost home. Questions fall like notes from the s.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929288/ musicality in poetryIn the cadence of thought, a whisper of light,A revelation crescendos with day's first sight.That afternoon, a waltz of sunbeams so bright,Time's melody, in a serene, endless flight.Minutes chase years, through dreams they roam,In the rhythm of life, in work and in home... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929286/ musicality in poetryIn decadence of thought, a whisper of light, revealing crescendos - indaze - first sight.That afternoon, beamed sunwaltz bright,Time's melody, serene, in endless flight.Minutes chase years, through dreams they roam, Slowed rhythm of life, in work and lost home.Questions fal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929283/ In the symphony of thought, a revelation sings,Bathed in the light where the cosmos begins.That afternoon, bathed in sunlight's play,Time's sweet circle, in a gentle sway.Chasing moments, years in flight,Through dreams and labor, in life's delight.Questions cascade, a waterfall of night,Answers echo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929281/ more poeticA melody of minds, a revelation's spark,Bathed in the glow of the universe's arc.That golden afternoon, where sunlight streams,A dance of time, in slow, serene dreams.Minutes gather, years pursue,Through slumber's veil, through work's ado.Questions cascade, endless, deep,Answe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929280/ Thoughts align, a deep insight dawns,Bathed in light of cosmic morn.That afternoon, sun's golden dance,Time's full circle, slow advance.Years in minutes, always chase,Through dream and work, in life's embrace.Questions endless, down they pour,Synthetic answers, heaven's door.Trauma layer.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2929279/ She flashed by in sixties' redhead in sunshine, smilingthrough the mystery airall-encompassed - perfect thereOutside time now, spell was goodshe passes slowly, thoughtful, up the stairsEdwardian door open, temptingin we go and deep insidethe gulls announce a turning tidefaraway it seems - out coastw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2851876/ It has to be saidthat the only things certain are higher taxes and deathgreed is the weakness in the hands of the plannersgrabbing and gropinggrasping and groaning - their desperate perversion begins overflowingand dirty money spreads its disease - never enough becomes their uneasethis time the thie.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2851874/ Time and reality suspendedHeart's now high and then aflutterThese two hours a joy to suffer, until the end with whistles blowingWhen you win you're afterglowingIf you lose, from high you're slowingDown through low and lower goingWhere you end no way of knowing6-5-2009, Inchicore http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2851873/ Waiting for peace when it's everywhere but hereIt seems there's no tomorrow and yet we'll have to waitPatience has subdued the soulThe instinct trapped, the impulse coldThe self is fainter and freedom frailBut we keep waiting, waitingInchicore, 6-5-2009 http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2851872/ One way or another, life became death for her...she had always absorbed any light that came into her heavy orbit...now she knew...if she continued to be her true self, all she would do is prove how wrong and impune she had been since then...if she forced herself to change, she would kill all that wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2812597/ "They are from a family who lived in a Jain community before the time of the First Singularity, and the subsequent amalgamation of all religions into the original Mega Church and Temple. None of their people are known to have taken part in the struggles of those years."They collected books and.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2811730/ "Who can forget now the seas of blood washing the earth red in those times of fury. That human passion. The earthquake dams could not hold it."Who remembers the warnings of that small group of clairvoyants - the noble ones - the hope. It was all so desperate then, they knew the battle was lost. .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2809236/ "There is no tomorrow, there's only yesterday and the day before. Today's the whole thing now - tonight is all we have."Some bot or other had flown in a few weeks earlier, and was engaging in an indoctrination session with a group on the fringes of the programme. The dreary old chat was beamin.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2807733/ When there's nothing left to doAnd no way to save or be savedI dream all day and nightwith ease and mightI dream and dream and dreamAnd when awake with no way backDespite the railman's effort track to trackAnd when the world's a horror showWith laughs confined.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2803624/ He turned up early at the wheels of a Jacobin 51V, spinning the highlighter and infrareds as he pulled in by the curved side. They were waiting for him in a crybar about twenty old French metres from his stoppoint, in this widish laneway behind the All Supreme Courts of the Highe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2803481/ http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2803472/ I just rememberedto write peaceinstead of othermodern wordsSome sacred spaceto sit and waitTo love and hopeFor golden pathsand golden age http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2803438/ They put me in a yellow roomWith red on the ceilingWhite painted floorBlack-bricked windowNo way outThey made me do nothingFor twenty yearsBrain washing with new doctrineScreen screamScream screenThey changed the world Over your shoulder As they fl.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2801944/ An association of thought. A profound realization. Then filled with light to match the universal day. That afternoon. That sunshine flow. That age completeness rounding slow. Past years of minutes always seeking. Asleep and dreaming, work and waking. The endless questions down and taking. Synthetic .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2798601/ Blue sky at night, this artificial light, wake up - wake me...history is being made today. They'll write about these times - the struggle with the too few crew - their lines - their crimes - their ever-prying eye...Wake up! Stay tuned - a wheel will turn - some souls still burn for justice in an unj.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2796270/ Oh yeah, the things you hear these daysTwist and turn and walk and burnDeep outsideF*****g deep outsideOh no, they do it all for showDo nothing Drag us downDeep outsideF*****g deep outsideWe went so far belowPast hellJust empty shellsSearch away.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2791137/ So what's the point if all you've given up's beliefSurvival?Entertainment?Entitlement?Look, we've been through so much of your anti-natural religionAnd your old sacrifices disgustYour miracles so often feed on fleshBefore you mortify your selfYour celib vow is wor.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2784522/ The cities shove a lover - see tonight a million years ago - yesterday - pass this dawn fade - another night - hear that graceful beat - our avenue - the many and the few - the streetlamps - all halo high - and pace goodbye - the custom you choose - young invention - all alone with everyone - nostal.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2784254/ The world is a clockSpinning fast and spinning slow The spy's the watchmakerKnows everything you knowTake me to their leadersThe ones who pull the stringsNow, they're real little handsWay too small to be wingsBut it looks like they'll need someTheir pyramid's .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/Alex_Vandool/2784117/