Undressed

January 13, 2014

 

By:Magnolia

beat

You’ve reveled me.

Broken flesh ripped from the bone, unfathomable like song seeping from a closed lip stone.

*

I felt the trail of your lips in deep slumber.

It bound then bled the breath out of me, like starving rose vines clenched around a brittle tree.

*

You occupy the space betwixt anguish and revelry

Crystalized, like a happy sea pearl, bathed recklessly; You move me.

*

Cremated in the ecstasy of risen dust, I am a composition made of sentimental leaves, the nights beating lights and dirt, fermented & churned to rust.

*
Molten your thoughts.

Like grapes swallowed in the belly of a hungry hand, pick, bite and swallow me whole ;

And if you abandon the complexities of pride

you will feel me with each mouthful.

*
Let the heft of your visible existence sink & die

And I will be the waves on your shore that rise, crash & cling to your every side.

*
Undressed & transparent, tunneled between softened ribs, is everything to you I give.

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Stuck Outside the Dream

September 2, 2013

How does one determined the line between dream and reality?

¬†This tells the story of an old woman who has spent her¬†time in sleep building a relationship with a man who is deemed, in our¬†concept of reality,¬†a dream. She contemplates whether his ability to prevail¬†so tangibly in her existence is due to them having a love that stands the test of time, society’s notion of reality and reincarnation itself. This is the thoughts of a woman¬†” Stuck Outside the Dream.”

Faint as a memory, vivid as a dream,
That’s how I remember him.
His hands firm, ironed to fit the concaves of my weathered skin.
His love vivid, shaped to illuminate the shadows of my being.
He was a soft vision, only unlike any phantom I had ever seen,
For I had felt his touch.
His hair always smelt of plucked roses, a soap given to him on our 20th Anniversary.
His lips, provoked by the beat of my heart, were always filled with the vowels of kings.
But at times, when I’m awake, I can’t help but wonder, hath my¬†senses played a trick on me?
Am I interwoven inside the womb of  my own insanity?

 In love inside two worlds, I, we, both were trapped.
A communion derailed by the coming of the sun and the yawning of the moon.
In my sleep and in his awake I am found.
My life with him permeates of promethean heat, of longings quenched, of  rapturous immortality.
The pleasure of his skin stacked upon my soul only deadens my being when I arise in the day.
For empty is my bed and I just a mere lump of clay.
Alone, it is intolerable, for one cannot function & absorb the torture of blocked possibility.
So I have chosen to live in sanity.
For¬†what’s¬†¬†a dreamer to¬†do when trapped inside their awake,

but to bridge the gap, rescue the dream from being lost, at stake.
The origins of this life that exists inside black lids, I know not of.
Perhaps a love, so benevolent, a man, a spirit  so prodigious, that no conceivable birth from nature, reincarnation itself, can interrupt.
Conquered, our breath hath focused its way through time.
Pillaging the process of winter, summer, spring and fall;
We decided upon inseparability through any means at all.
And now, his reality is my dream.
Expired are the days of wanting,
As he remains surrendered to me, I shall remain my feet off ground my heart in heavens, un-yielding to my awake.
Varnished we remain, I  clinging to him, like warm bark upon a shivered tree.
For is it not in our insanity that we are truly free?

....beautifuly accepted.  -Mrs. Art

Bright Lights (1925)

Alone. S)

Love this <3

dance

Black and W.H.I.T.E. by shelley

Simple and elegantly SEXY! Black and W.H.I.T.E.

Melancholy …by Iliko Kandaveli. S)

Busby BerkeleyElephants. S)

Cotillion! #blackhistory #society

Your time is now !SilhouetteRenowned Chinese dancer, Yang Li Ping, taken during an actual performance in a theatre in Kunming, China.

tulle tulle tulle

Frozen in high winds?  That's some ice palace Photo by Thomas Zakowski

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Nathan-Sawaya-Trapped

What started out as a hum became a boom of unmanaged thought.

Staccato beats biting in the measure of grit, clamped against his cage.

Provoked into becoming, he did not look before he leaped.

And what was once dull, complacent, flowing water trickling down a lane of satisfied tissue,

Became jagged hunger aimed at swallowing everything whole.

Thickened desires shackling the senses and sharpening impulses,

Gave way to choking the vices of a freshly lit butt stacked in-between the violence of his teeth.

Clench fisted and with trembled brow, a plot of smoke slithered in-between the fractures of his mind,

While dank internal narratives bled from his axis.

And behind his eyes was the freezing heat of brazenness, freed from constraint.

A beast billowing from behind his flexed peeled skin

Ripped through the carnage  of his cerebellum,

Whilst zoetic engravings oozed from his lucidity.

And palm to ground, with flexure vision interlaced in roaring grandiloquence, he sired the earth.

Nathan-Sawaya-Cracking-Up2

12.8.12

Uninterrupted

August 30, 2013

By summers end, I kissed his lids beneath a tiered willow tree.

Sweeping in the wind, it’s lazy arms enlivened us with each touch.
And while I lay upon his beloved chest, his hand in mine we clutched.

 A perfect day.

Crickets swallowed silence with infectious songs, while
bees and crimson roses embosomed all night long.
Further, in the afternoon, like kings we partook;

Sliced oranges tangled in white lace, webbed buttered croissants, delicate and warm. And a medley, of green, purple, red
and yellow leaves, an ode to a summers passing.
Upon the suns genuflection we built our nest bellow twinkling eyes and in the graces of a smiling moon.
We were the makers of dreams and the bearers of empyrean possibilities; a love uninterrupted.

 

July 16.13′ 1:14am

Conception

August 27, 2013

( Story: star-dust+ Egg+Sperm= the Human Experience: ENJoy)

It began as a long corridor, painted with nine moving figures, almost like, a welcoming party, only they were not bent on saying hello, rather, they were occupied, with focused intoxication in detailing my voids with purposeful movement.

As I made my way down an expanding hall, a room found me.

It was pale, still and wafer-thin with time. ¬†Upon greeting, ¬†painlessly and with no hesitation, it peeled back it’s skin.

Buried inside the layers of wall was half of a room. The other half, well it was only to be reached by climbing up a ladder propped against a bright light.

Whereupon I stood, my face met the celestial breath of night and the warmth of an eclipsing light.  Bewitched the darkness perambulated beneath my scintillated lids.

Galvanized, I stood feeling the inception of behemoth black while it drowned wanting lids with star dust and polished pebbles.

Fire and earth cavorted forming an allegory of love crashed into the soul of a blind guest. I had become rebellious star-dust born solely to answer to the call of my own crux.

Behold my first vision, spiraling stairs, cascading upwards into a place where mine eyes could not reach.

  Transfixed I was until directed to go forward.

As I climbed the stairs I felt myself, like a train barreling down an unknown tunnel, being thwarted past perceptibility and time.

As I reached the top I strangely felt bits of wet clay squelching between my toes.

It wasn’t until I was still, and caught and held one silent breath that I realized that in order to become whole I needed to dive in.

So I ran. With drunken madness, I traveled into the belly of a salivating creature; it eager to envelop me in its womb, and I eager to be  cloaked.

The very moment I was consumed, was the very moment I was released into the chasm of euphoric realization, and I did not hold back.

Unbeknownst to me, in that exact moment, I shared a pathway with an unknown figure, and he too had been thwarted, leaped and  consumed.

We met in rushing waters. Inseparable, from then forward, conjoined we sailed.

Within the time-span of nine heart beats we absorbed

storming clouds and riveted sunsets.

We were synergistic in our combustion; together creating a polychromatic being.

Through the bombastic force that at times shifts the earth, two beings, meshed as one, arose through a tiny fissure.

This being¬†was miraculous, perfection unfurled. It’s first steps although slow, defied all the laws of gravity; it was pure possibility wrapped in earth.

It’s eyes, a cloudy treasure chest, binding the secrets of its soul.

And it’s armor, ingeniously infused with electric circuits, charging for movements to come.

At first breath it unfolded, followed by a revolving stretch.

This being, spun by dream weavers, had inside its belly a cup of un-spilt passion, bequeathed  by star-dust and fastened by the undivided attention of a ready soul.

Sword drawn and consciousness ready, it smiled with its face pressed against the world. And with dreams in heart and painted reality at bay, it had only one thing ¬†in reply to the challenges it was soon to face,¬†“En garde.”

CONCEPTION

It began as a long corridor, painted with nine moving figures, almost like, a welcoming party, only they were not bent on saying hello, rather they were occupied, with focused intoxication, in detailing my voids with purposeful movement.
As I made my way down an expanding hall, a room found me.
It was pale, still and wafer-thin with time.  Upon greeting,  painlessly and with no hesitation, it peeled back it’s skin.
And inside the walls was half of a room. The other half, well it was only to be reached by climbing up a ladder propped against a bright light.
Whereupon I stood, my face met the celestial breath of night and the warmth of an eclipsing light.  Bewitched the darkness perambulated beneath my scintillated lids.
Galvanized, I stood feeling the inception of behemoth black while it drowned wanting lids with star dust and polished pebbles.
Fire and earth cavorted forming an allegory of love crashed into the soul of a blind guest. I had become rebellious stardust born solely to answer to the call of my own crux.
Behold my first vision, spiraling stairs, cascading upwards into a place where my eyes could not reach.
Transfixed I was until directed to go forward.
As I climbed the stairs I felt myself, like a train barreling down an unknown tunnel, being thwarted past perceptibility and time.
As I reached the top I strangely felt bits of wet clay squelching between my toes.
It wasn’t until I was still, and caught and held one silent breath that I realized that in order to become whole I needed to dive in.
So I ran. With drunken madness, I traveled into the belly of a salivating creature; it eager to envelop me in its womb, and I eager to be found.
The very moment I was consumed, was the very moment I was released into the chasm of euphoric realization, and I did not hold back.
Unbeknownst to me, in that exact moment, I shared a pathway with an unknown figure, and he too had been thwarted, leaped and  consumed.
We met in rushing waters. Inseparable, from then forward, conjoined we sailed.
Within the time-span of nine heart beats we absorbed
storming clouds and riveted sunsets.
We were synergistic in our combustion; together creating a polychromatic being.
Through the bombastic force that at times shifts the earth, two beings, meshed as one, arose through a tini fissure.
This being was miraculous, perfection unfurled. It’s first steps although slow, defied all the laws of gravity; it was pure possibility wrapped in earth.
It’s eyes, a cloudy treasure chest, binding the secrets of its soul.
And it’s armor, ingeniously infused with electric circuits, charging for movements to come.
At first breath it unfolded, followed by a revolving stretch.
This being, spun by dream weavers, had inside its belly a cup of un-spilt passion, bequeathed  by star dust and fastened by the undivided attention of a ready soul.
Sword drawn and consciousness ready, it smiled with its face pressed against the world. And with dreams in heart and painted reality at bay, it had only one thing¬† in reply to the challenges it was soon to face, ‚ÄĚEn garde.‚ÄĚ

Fools & Kings

August 19, 2013

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By: Magnolia

Their love was the cause of levitation and crying leaves.

Upon first sight, he beheld blue dust; speckled inside the iris of her reflective mirror,

They lingered, spellbound & bogart.

While gold and pink light, soft and incandescent, spied between the fissures of his fluttered heart.

Their interlocking dewy eyes, congealed in-time.

The musings of tomorrow and yesterday, evaporated outside the bloom of detangled vines.

And with the zest of a king and the heart of a fool;

Mouths unraveled so rapturously, that as they stood,

From form to dust and water to a paphian musk,

They became every form of life, rising and sinking, from dawn to dusk.

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They lingered, spellbound & bogart.

Their love was the cause of levitation and crying leaves

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c1d19 Brilliant Levitation Photography

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The musings of tomorrow and yesterday, evaporated outside the bloom of detangled vines.

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Upon first sight, he beheld blue dust; speckled inside the iris of her reflective mirror

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Their interlocking eyes, congealed in-time

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c1b17 Brilliant Levitation Photography

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From form to dust and water to a paphian musk

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And with the zest of a king and the heart of a fool

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While gold and pink light, soft and incandescent, spied between the fissures of his fluttered heart

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Mouths unraveled so rapturously, that as they stood

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They became every form of life, rising and sinking, from dawn to dusk.

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The Rarefied & Colorful

August 4, 2013

 

Albeit barely born, by the time he hit one, he had already seen and created the world.

And while letters had not made sail into his unfurnished mind or wrangled between the columns inside his vacant mouth, his heart spilt of stories in far away lands, undiscovered pastures, roaring seas and of a friend in whom no journey was improbable.

It was upon the back of a pictoric baby elephant, the young boy would fall asleep.

Bobbing inside of sequestered thoughts, his head lay warmed by the sloppy and playful movements of the babes frank and floppy ear.
The sun pressed heavy against his lids, securing a passageway for careless dreams.
Smirking in the golden light, with eyes shut, the boy saw the earth extended and rising; the very form of natures ample bosom evaporating into the mirth that exists inside of a formless habitat.

Illusive was the rushing wind sliding betwixt the window seals of journeying butterflies dipped in ink.
Surrounded they were by birds thrashing about in a performance with grand sonority aimed at pleasing a slumbering prince.

Connected to his dear friend, his hands became prismatically interwoven, holding the very same print.

Sprinkles of mustard dust swirled with black night, flushed into scarlet curves that drowned inside the reflective skin of emerald leaves.

They were one and the same.

Together they journeyed to the ocean, where, through keen magnification, they observed the condensation of a violet sunset cavorting, in blustered fervor, with thawed foliage and sunken clouds of white.

They wondered past caramel mushroom abodes, deers trapped in necking, phosphorescent trees and hospitable vines.
A world built upon the back of the collected musings of  the an emblazoned mind.

And as he grew, in him the elephant remained; a token of remembrance of all uncharted dreams and to the prodigious mastery that rests inside the thirsting veins of  not merely a Walter-Mitty, but a conjurer of immeasurable possibilities.

Not to Look but to See

July 31, 2013

Does the evening black blind thee from  transparent truths?

  Before I knew my wants

it ’twas you I desired.

 Strangers we are merely by flesh,

but thine heart, ’tis thine heart that I know best.

Why amongst a strobe of lights

’tis thine eyes that affect and excites.

And while thou covers thyeslf  in a sheath of  fears soaked in the anxieties of olden, crooked paths,

know that the more thine release, the less thou must combat.

Embraced ye shall bask in the merriment of an undiscovered place.

 So I say to thee in this breath, as though it were mine last, that infinitely I shall bend towards you,

for thou art my sun!

So if ye shall not rise with me,
then let there be no dawn.

First Art work by the brilliant Sergio Albiac:

Unreleased thoughts experimental

Sergio Albiac:- Dotted bust of a young woman РOn a sculpture of Josep Reynés (1850 Р1926)

Second Art work by the brilliant Sergio Albiac:Generative and procedural digital image

Porcelain Cup

July 10, 2013

And held between my knees and this gray old cotton skirt,

A porcelain cup it rests, with swivels of you in melted dirt.

And inside these swivels of you, are looping, daydreams
Sparked by deeds, not done, and never ever to be seen.

*

Steam engulfing reveries swimming in my pretty porcelain rivulet.

And all the while I take long

loud, visceral, sipssss

Close my eyes and let the vapor stroke my eager thirsty lips.

*

Sitting here, tapping my foot to the beat of my pen
Imaging you walk through the door,

over & over again & again.

Foam tracings of what was once suppressed, now expressed.
And I delightful in it’s proclivity towards daydreams tasty & undressed.

*

Oh so flushed and out of sync,

my fancy for you makes me re-run & over-think.
Proliferating feelings of upside down, right side up, see-through, covered,

 so in & sane this love drunkard.

*

But until snow and wind freeze you on my way.
(Warmth being the thing you feel with everything I say.)
I’ll spill my ink on willing leaves and scribble away brain waves.
Stare into heated porcelain and see visions;
Falling leaves falling for me, jellyfish stinging you in your head and  having you wake up in my storm happy bed.

*

Transparent cravings bottled in the angst of firmly, fixed fingers
Pressed against floating like fuzzys, sealed in my coffee rim figures.

Man Ray, Self-Portrait with Camera (1930) and, left, Solarised Portrait of Lee Miller (1929)

“But they say if you dream a thing more than once, it’s sure to come true. “

Be Happy!!!

July 7, 2013


2 THINGS: If it makes you happy, do it. If it doesn’t, then don’t.

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Shut Eyes Kept Breath

July 5, 2013

That’s where she existed best.

In the dark, in the light, high upon the rafters,

Perched above the clamor of civilization.

Where fog embraces light in the form of bulbous clouds.

Where the pangs of sorrow are dulled by the atmospheric civility that only floating can offer.

Where tears find home in rain,

Calmness in the breath of nothing,

and stillness in the charm of fluttered roses.

And just the mere possibility of all this, that desire to break free from skin,

It cruised beneath her heart and pushed against limp veins.

Like leather tightly wound against screaming bones,

She felt the itch of wanting to escape;

To melt past rattling walls and bursting bubbles.

But only with shut eyes and kept breath could she find the courage to leap.

And spinning in the solitary moment of her first step was truth flashing upon somber lids.

It was in the rain,

It was in the wind,

It was in the beat of the sun

and in every crater of the moon.

She was interwoven in the bliss of this deserted place.

Every night bathing in the light of the stars

And every morning dancing with a flock of wings.

In her despair she had surrendered to the dream and found triumph in the crux of her soul.

Pirouetted in the divinity of absolute mirth, alas she was home.

Of The Night

July 1, 2013

And when it’s sets, with its peering eyes,

like Christmas bulbs blinking through black stitches,

what does it think?

Scarred by reflections of angst yet riveted from   illustrious deeds;

That heavy night.

Dense in darkness and lonely in speech,

it enunciates through it’s vastness;

Postured in silent elegance,

it says “Nothing.”

With sedate frequency it dwells in plummet-less breaths.

Infinity,

in.

And then,

languidly,

out.

Watching for the world to look up, seductive in its gaze,

it’s cloaked in the madness of ticking hearts

conjoined with collapsed lips.

That heavy night

Like the coat of a romanced black stallion it rouses embracing and beckons the moon.

And I like every creature, with one foot vexed inside the tremors of olden slumbers, and the next,

detailed inside the scarlet breath that is now, stand erect, faced pressed agog, against the black, overbearing night,

That heavy night.

Not a mere curtain to the end, but a prelude

to newly imagined beginnings.

A  dwelling place for dreams to drip upon a vacuous canvas.

Oh that heavy night.



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What Is Bliss?

May 28, 2013

Press ME

But to have ones heart saturated with all the best ingredients.

Chocolate powder, swirled into crystal cubed, brown sugar bumps.

Mixed with chilled white milk and

Stirred inside endless clarity;

Only to be baked into a soft edible fever.

Coated with crying, frothed cream,

just happy to be apart of something.

Half-done, half- raw, half-baked, all-together.

Dreaming of filling in the space  of unsealed lips.

If for nothing else, isn’t this why we exist?

 

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The Laughing Heart

May 12, 2013

By: Charles Bukowski

                                                  Your life is your life

                                   don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.

               be on the watch.

                                               there are ways out.

                   there is a light somewhere.

                         it may not be much light but it beats the darknes

 be on the watch.

the gods will offer you chances

   know them.

take them

you can’t beat death

but you can beat death in life, sometimes.

                      and the more often you learn to do it,

the more light there will be.

 your life is your life.

                 know it while you have it.

                             you are marvelous the gods wait to delight in you.

Drawing by Weronika Krzemieniecka | Posted by devidsketchbook.com

MUTINY, 60" x 78", oil, enamel & shellac on canvas, 2012, by Samantha Keely Smith.

detail: MUTINY, 60" x 78", oil, enamel & shellac on canvas, 2012, by Samantha Keely Smith.

detail: MUTINY, 60" x 78", oil, enamel & shellac on canvas, 2012, by Samantha Keely Smith.

Facing Up

April 24, 2013

PRESS ME!

By: Magnolia

Punch-drunk in a persuasive sea

I am caught in a bottle bound for beleaguered shores.
And around me dizzy trees and mountains roar.

Clouds shock themselves into tears

While I stare, facing up, thinking of you my dear

 

Tip-toeing inside the black, you gently waltz across evening shadows
And suddenly whizzz across the sky like an eager arrow


And all the while inside this noisy night
Pondering is swallowed by the twinkling of lights.

Etched between the moon and stars
are the arches of your smile and your lips, the hue of Mars.

And while I want to crash inside your heavens dust,
You cannot hear me above the oceans rust.

And though the sky has not offered its hand

I sit watchful with each breath ready to compress then expand;

Until the dusk peels back its skin

And I am kissed by dawns begin.

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crescentmoon66:Romantic Shadows by *andreasrocha

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Between the Gap

April 17, 2013

By Magnolia

 

It’s that small whisper in-between the fog

Wounds hushed by plush snow

and woeful hearts melted through tepid strokes.

Light, right before the fade of dark.

An abandoned desert first touched by the print of man.

Or fire seduced by adjacent streams.

It’s that closing of the gap¬†as I near you.

Can you feel it?

The swaying hairs reaching from my arm.

Can you see it?

My swollen iris, lids double fluttering.

Or can you hear the wings of butterflies

pounding against captured air.

Long, rolling, syllables,

thinly spread upon a bed of silence;

begging to fill the space where you begin and I end.

And why is that as far as I’m allowed to get,

beside the respite of breath billowing between our lips?

I want to subsist inside the gap.

The difference of the two?

  A slight of hand,

a slit between being alive and merely breathing.

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Her Speech

April 4, 2013

By: Magnolia

Her lethargic breath was rooted in the cave of a cumbersome heart.

Standing a foot the blank podium, tethered by opportunistic strings,

was the birth of a whisper

ascended into what became, a cataclysmic thought.

Like spiraling stairs with no beginning nor end, she spoke.

“Ejected from the gorge of emotional destitution,

I have realized that I have ascribed form to an existence that is but a shadow,

if not a dream.

And while I’ve remained fixed upon my daily deeds

I have abandoned my internal needs;

Misguiding shapes inside a living tomb.

I call upon the earth to fissure beneath my brain,

To thwart an arrow into the chasm of my heart,

and to pardon this lump of clay’s weary ways.

Soil and ice, no longer will you replace permutable fog.

For truth, a concept whose doors are not open for interpretation,

alas,  has made the journey through pore and rushing blood and found its home

upon electrical wires  breathing life into a paralyzed heart.

I say, empty handed and fragmented from a self-induced illusion,

that, that which is, is not a at all, and that which is to be, is to exists inside of me.

Compelled to create prickled shapes that would garner me the world, while gazing upon a blank wall, all at the expense of my heart beat.

Fair exchange it was not.

For I have spent most of my clock devouring the irrelevant, in hopes of quenching a parched soul,

and merely numbing it in the process.

But now with exhumed vision and  frail valves,

I have but one thing I want to do, and nothing else.

With¬†the elegance of¬†life’s¬†exoskeleton bewildering my eyes,

And with the seed of creation rousing a previously unemployed  heart

Through inspired skin and  resurrected possibility 

from below me and above,

my only purpose here,

is to love.

 

I can’t help but think storms are beautiful.

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‚ÄúPoetry is nearer to vital truth than history.‚ÄĚ

‚ÄĒ

Plato

‚ÄúEvery heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love, every man becomes a poet.‚ÄĚ

‚ÄĒ

Plato

‚ÄúAccording to Plato, we don‚Äôt learn anything. Our soul has lived so many lives that we know everything. Teachers and education can only remind us of what we already know.‚ÄĚ

‚ÄĒ

Misty –¬†Diary¬†by Chuck Palahniuk

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Through inspired skin and  resurrected possibility 

from below me and above,

my only purpose here,

is to love.

La Luna

March 22, 2013

File:Crab Lucky video2.gif

Once upon a moonlit tale, born inside a planted jar,

is where he fell in love with a delicate evening glowing star.

While trapped inside this heavy mass,

he reached his rays beyond the glass.

Though stuck and filled with fright, he knew one thing,

He’d do anything to have her see his light.

So pointed at the night one day,

he poured himself upon the fractured driveway.

Swimming in-between its cracks,

he found his way upon the oceans back.

And while challenged betwixt the midnight waves,

He held on to the glimmer of light inside of her beating gaze.

And when reaching became tiresome and the wind a heavy burden

He reached upon the feathers of a willing black raven.

Into the sky this light was carried,

while pulsating he hid his eyes beneath ruffled feathers, hopeful & teary

From beneath the oceans belly to sleeping above a bed of cotton

His dreams became more puissant, as he neared the place once forgotten.

And as he reached the sky, he let out a big breath and died.

With abrupt euphoria his rays danced inside the darkness

And his message thundered into the void where her heart was.

“Can‚Äôt you see my love,

the world is so small and we big in it.

I just needed to think that beings like you exist.

I hope its okay for me to confess all of this.”

And before his final word was etched,

she reached her arms to him outstretched.

Pressed against the midnight sky, her lips upon his cheek she kissed

And revealed they collided, taking pleasure in each-others eternal bliss.

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Begin Again

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The List

February 3, 2013

A silly story about a girl, her fixation, a guy and her list.

Flipping through programming trying to erase you from my channel,

There I was, second day straight, hypnotized while living in my flannel.

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With the same feelings of  a 13-year-old, all giggly and dewy eyed.

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When he walked into that room, everything from gravity and life as I knew it, ceased to exist.

And I swear I saw two of him coexist.

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And my whole point of being, was summarized by the life in his luminous eyes.

All it took was one look, and I told myself, “Don’t say anything unwise!”

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I was fixated, forever haunted and entranced by, wait did he bite his lip?

Soft, beckoning and in slow motion, ok he didn’t, get a grip.

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My veins and all body mechanics became employed by my imagination, he had me, jaw dropped & twinkled eyes;

he was the tune, on a permanent rotation.

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Tomorrow was going to be Monday, he’d give me wink and walk by my desk,

And I, I’d pretend I didn’t care, I’d stand there, non-nonchalant¬†and¬†statuesque

Sudden obsession birthed from a childhood spent in boy defiance and aggression,

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Became unmanageable, un-treatable and after two-weeks, no longer could I repress him.

And in reality, his utter lack of attention to me?

Well, it drove me crazy!

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I devised a plan, which consisted of,

do everything and anything you can to get this man!

So here’s my list to secure this mans undying kiss:

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Night before: Practice cat walk and pouting

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And rehears to say something funny and astounding.

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Post notes all over the house, for support

Try on everything in your closet nothing too long, nothing too short!

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Nothing good enough in closet

I must design something, sexy, no, Audrey Hepburn like not hobbit.

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Read,

face mask,

meditation

and when I wake up in the morning,

He will exist more than in my imagination.

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.

Went to sleep and dreamt of him in my bed,

And when I woke up I realized it was all in my head

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Early morning, while brushing teeth, practice the perfect smile.

“Confidence, class, sophistication, it’s not an act, it’s a lifestyle.”

Now, apply red, no pink, no purple, green and glitter!

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Wait isn’t red, the color of¬†someone¬†sexy and clever?!

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dd

Now for something comfortable and not too dramatic.

I hope this little black dress is quiet enough but causes him to panic.

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And will top it off with a sweater with just a small subtle sign;

Little does he know, I spent all night cutting this design.

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No more list, I’m out the door, like a battalion¬†walking tall and suave, on a mission¬†for amor.

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There he is, buttoning his coat,

try to act natural, bury your head in your book and don’t dote!

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Oh my god! He called my name,

Collect yourself!  Now act mysterious and tame.

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“How was your weekend?” he asked.

And like a kid in a candy store I was dumbfounded stuck in trance.

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“Well, ya know, weekends are, so weekend like, ya know.”

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What did I just say, it didn’t make any sense,

and as soon as I tried to get my thoughts together,

my brother grabbed my cheeks and made me look so dense.

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Thinking it was my boyfriend, that’s why he walked away!

And I’m here left alone, with nothing clever to say.

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Ok, must regroup, emergency ‘cool chick’¬†cigarettes,¬†plan b,

so he can get close and light it up for me.

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But I don’t smoke, so a huge plume of death got caught my throat.

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Bathroom emergency, second regroup, should have made him a chocolate cake, no that could give him a toothache.

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OK a shot of perfume and a little bit of  eye liner,

Must try to act a little daintier and exceptionally refiner.

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Now reapply some color and imagine its him helpful and dapper.

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Ok, act two, there he is,

stand next to him,

and read a book while pretending to be a genius a whiz.

above(image from amazing photographer Darren Roberts collection)

Now sit, and curl a strand of your hair.

Do anything to make him aware.

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Tease and eat with moving lips, but not enough to go to the hips.

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He’s not paying attention!

It’s like I don’t exist,

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Maybe I should just jump his bones and attach my face to his!

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I know! ¬†I’ll blow a bubble,

¬†he’s the least of my troubles.

Splash, the plan backed up on me,

my face is ridiculed with failed attempts, smudged & sticky!

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Now what I’ve done?! He’s gone and walked away,

And there’s a thousand voices inside of me pleading for him to stay!

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I had so much to say,

but nothing showed up,

I was not eloquent or brave;

only desperate and him, probably fed up.

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Oh well, so much for the day, my feelings & my heart I did not convey.

What’s so great about him anyways?

His smile,

His eyes,

His laugh,

The way he listens to me on my behalf?

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No, he’s just a man,

I don’t like him,

matter of fact, I’m putting him on a mental ban!

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And right when I was going to cry you wouldn’t¬†believe¬†what came before my eyes.

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Flowers in hand he gave to me while whispering in my ear that he wanted only me.

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We sat by the pond, he pulled me in close and pointed to me everywhere in his heart that I had enclosed.

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I just smiled from ear to ear,

For what would I do for love? ¬†Well, what wouldn’t I dare.

Oh! And did I mentioned we kissed!

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_____________________________

THE LIST

Flipping through programming trying to erase you from my channel,

There I was, second day straight, hypnotized while living in my flannel.

With the same feelings of  a 13-year-old, all giggly and dewy eyed.

When he walked into that room, everything from gravity and life as I knew it, ceased to exist.

And I swear I saw two of him coexist.

And my whole point of being, was summarized by the life in his luminous eyes.

All it took was one look, and I told myself, “Don’t say anything unwise!”

I was fixated, forever haunted and entranced by, wait did he bite his lip?

Soft, beckoning and in slow motion, ok he didn’t, get a grip.

My veins and all body mechanics became employed by my imagination, he had me, jaw dropped & twinkled eyes;

he was the tune, on a permanent rotation.

Tomorrow was going to be Monday, he’d give me wink and walk by my desk,

And I, I’d pretend I didn’t care, I’d stand there, non-nonchalant¬†and¬†statuesque

Sudden obsession birthed from a childhood spent in boy defiance and aggression,

Became unmanageable, un-treatable and after two-weeks, no longer could I repress him.

And in reality, his utter lack of attention to me?

Well, it drove me crazy!

I devised a plan, which consisted of,

do everything and anything you can to get this man!

So here’s my list to secure this mans undying kiss:

Night before: Practice cat walk and pouting

And rehears to say something funny and astounding.

Post notes all over the house, for support

Try on everything in your closet nothing too long, nothing too short!

Nothing good enough in closet

I must design something, sexy, no, Audrey Hepburn like not hobbit.

Read,

face mask,

meditation

and when I wake up in the morning,

He will exist more than in my imagination.

Went to sleep and dreamt of him in my bed,

And when I woke up I realized it was all in my head

Early morning, while brushing teeth, practice the perfect smile.

“Confidence, class, sophistication, it’s not an act, it’s a lifestyle.”

Now, apply red, no pink, no purple, green and glitter!

Wait isn’t red, the color of¬†someone¬†sexy and clever?!

Now for something comfortable and not too dramatic.

I hope this little black dress is quiet enough but causes him to panic.

And will top it off with a sweater with just a small subtle sign;

Little does he know, I spent all night cutting this design.

No more list, I’m out the door, like a¬†battalion¬†walking tall and suave, on a mission¬†for amor.

There he is, buttoning his coat,

try to act natural, bury your head in your book and don’t dote!

Oh my god! He called my name,

Collect yourself!  Now act mysterious and tame.

“How was your weekend?” he asked.

And like a kid in a candy store I was dumbfounded stuck in trance.

“Well, ya know, weekends are, so weekend like, ya know.”

What did I just say, it didn’t make any sense,

and as soon as I tried to get my thoughts together,

my brother grabbed my cheeks and made me look so dense.

Thinking it was my boyfriend, that’s why he walked away!

And I’m here left alone, with nothing clever to say.

Ok, must regroup, emergency ‘cool chick’¬†cigarettes,¬†plan b,

so he can get close and light it up for me.

But I don’t smoke, so a huge plume of death got caught my throat.

Bathroom emergency, second regroup, should have made him a chocolate cake, no that could give him a toothache.

OK a shot of perfume and a little bit of  eye liner,

Must try to act a little daintier and exceptionally refiner.

Now reapply some color and imagine its him helpful and dapper.

Ok, act two, there he is,

stand next to him,

and read a book while pretending to be a genius a whiz.

Now sit, and curl a strand of your hair.

Do anything to make him aware.

Tease and eat with moving lips, but not enough to go to the hips.

He’s not paying attention!

It’s like I don’t exist,

Maybe I should just jump his bones and attach my face to his!

I know! ¬†I’ll blow a bubble,

¬†he’s the least of my troubles.

Splash, the plan backed up on me,

my face is ridiculed with failed attempts, smudged & sticky!

Now what I’ve done?! He’s gone and walked away,

And there’s a thousand voices inside of me pleading for him to stay!

I had so much to say,

but nothing showed up,

I was not eloquent or brave;

only desperate and him, probably fed up.

Oh well, so much for the day, my feelings & my heart I did not convey.

What’s so great about him anyways?

His smile,

His eyes,

His laugh,

The way he listens to me on my behalf?

No, he’s just a man,

I don’t like him,

matter of fact, I’m putting him on a mental ban!

And right when I was going to cry you wouldn’t¬†believe¬†what came before my eyes.

Flowers in hand he gave to me while whispering in my ear that he wanted only me.

We sat by the pond, he pulled me in close and pointed to me everywhere in his heart that I had enclosed.

I just smiled from ear to ear,

For what would I do for love? ¬†Well, what wouldn’t I dare.

OH and did I mentioned, we kissed!

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On the way home, in the midst of his evening bustle

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His hand griped at the lament buried inside his hearts muscle

hand on heart

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Wilted and torn he took off his blues and remained in the dress for which he was born.

Pondering in the stillness of feeling lost and lovelorn.

‚ÄúLovers‚Ä̬†¬†¬†¬†¬† ‚Äú Orpheus‚Äô Sorrow¬† (1876)¬† ‚Ä̬† by¬† Pascal Adolphe Jean Dagnan-BouveretThanks to Laberintosyquimeras¬† for posting this wonderful image

Like a gold fish witnessing the sea while concealed in a transparent cage,

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He never quite felt he fit in his world.

Always yearning, waiting, transfixed on clock hands, tic tocked and twirled.

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Meanwhile, wedged inside his genius was the menacing feeling of a half-filled cup.

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For when he was little; he knew he was meant to be big.

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So, wishing by the sea & moon, he sat on a nest of twigs

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Transient figures, like neon signs burned between the dark¬†sky’s

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Reflecting each tear in his dreaming, uneasy eyes.

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With tremulous cords and vacuous hands he let go and dove in.

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Splashed beneath the film of water, cutting the deep horizons, were two feline eyes with petrified black feathered lashes.

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Unable to look away, he felt the warmth of his veins cooled by her pale as corpse hand

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In hypnotic awe he studied her lips, shaped with the figure of the crescent moon

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And her blythe batting lids, concealing double helix eyes, they compressed and released to the drum of his heart.

Dazed with curiosity, he allowed her lips to expand his chest & surrendered, they swam.

Topless mermaid, voluptuous amd alluring, seducing a young man at the bottom of the sea.Tumblr_me0gn8zezo1qfb46yo1_500_large

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They past childhood sand-castles, faint, white dried roses, tiered Polaroids and running crayons.

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Intrigued but perplexed nonetheless, till his eyes set upon Cherub Caliel, crying and withdrawn.

And as he approached extended hand and comfort unfolded, the cherub quickly turned and said,

“Awake ye now and rid thyself of death and dolefulness, that I can feel heavy upon thy heart”

Bewildered he looked for the siren that led him, but fled she had, and stuck he was.

Turned back, and before his eyes, the cherub decomposed into a plume of red & green dust.

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Swallowed by smoke, swollen¬†iris and startled heart he screamed, “I want out!”

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Treading and manic, he began to run out of air when the siren re-appeared,

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She quipped,”You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger my darling.”

He screamed “I need air!”

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Appearing to rescue but merely passing by, an octopus flushed in red, said, “So wake up.”

As he began to swim up, panicked, he found his feet tethered to the ground.

The sea became more¬†turbulent¬†and a tiger vehement in speech said, “So wake up!”

As he struggled he suddenly found he was not a captive of the ocean but enslaved inside his own tub.

And a final vision of the Siren appeared whispering, “When¬†you¬†desire¬†happiness as you have¬†just desired air, then you¬†will¬†have it.”

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Like an arrow to heart, her words struck him,

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And not all too sudden, his muscle embraced silence and thoughts vanished as  the bones in his back gallantly began an unraveling procession fixed on rapturous expansion.

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Freedom became he, as he floated, tenderly, above the sea,

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And the water slowly crept from chin to eyes, releasing him from self-demise.

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The next morning as he awoke, he found his back draped in wings and his heart cloaked in red

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And from his cage, he did not wonder nor did he wait, he stretched out his limbs & became a man, transcendent and magnate.

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Trapped Utopia & Unfettered Wings

By: Magnolia

On the way home, in the midst of his evening bustle,

His hand griped at the lament buried inside his hearts muscle.

Wilted and torn he took off his blues and remained in the dress for which he was born.

Pondering in the stillness of feeling lost and lovelorn,

Like a gold fish witnessing the sea while concealed in a transparent cage,

He never quite felt he fit in his world.

Always yearning, waiting, transfixed on clock hands, tic tocked and twirled.

Meanwhile, wedged inside his genius, was the menacing feeling of a half-filled cup.

For when he was little; he knew he was meant to be big.

So, wishing by the sea & moon, he sat on a nest of twigs.

Transient figures, like neon signs burned between the dark sky’s

Reflecting each tear in his dreaming, uneasy eyes.

So, with tremulous cords and vacuous hands he let go and dove in.

Splashed beneath the film of water, cutting the deep horizons, were two feline eyes with petrified black feathered lashes.

In hypnotic awe he studied her lips, shaped with the figure of the crescent moon

And her blythe batting lids, concealing double helix eyes, they compressed and released to the drum of his heart.

Unable to look away, he felt the warmth of his veins cooled by her pale as corpse hand.

Dazed with curiosity, he allowed her lips to expand his chest & surrendered they swam.

 They past childhood sand-castles, faint, white dried roses, tiered Polaroids and running crayons.

Intrigued but perplexed nonetheless, till his eyes set upon Cherub Caliel, crying and withdrawn.

And as he approached extended hand and comfort unfolded, the cherub whispered,

“Awake ye now and rid thyself of death and dolefulness, that I feel heavy upon thy living”

Bewildered he looked for the siren that led him, but fled she had, and stuck he was.

Turned back, and before his eyes, the cherub decomposed into a plume of red & green dust.

Swallowed by smoke, swollen¬†iris and startled heart he screamed, “I want out!”

Treading and manic,l he began to run out of air when the Siren re-appeared,

She quipped,”You mustn’t be afraid to dream a little bigger my darling.”

He screamed “I need air!”

Appearing to rescue but merely passing by, an octopus flushed in red, said, “So wake up.”

As he began to swim up, panicked he found his feet tethered to the ground.

The sea became more¬†turbulent¬†and a tiger vehement with speech said, “So wake up!”

As he struggled he suddenly found he was not a captive of the ocean but enslaved inside his own tub.

And a final vision of the Siren appeared whispering, “When¬†you¬†desire¬†happiness as you have¬†just desired air, then you¬†will¬†have it”.

Like an arrow to heart, her words struck him,

And not all too sudden, his muscle embraced silence and thoughts vanished as  the bones in his back gallantly began an unraveling procession fixed on rapturous expansion.

Freedom became he, as he floated, tenderly, above the sea,

And the water slowly crept from chin to eyes, releasing him from self-demise.

The next morning as he awoke, he found his back draped in wings and his heart cloaked in red

And from his cage, he did not wonder nor did he wait, he stretched out his limbs and became a man, transcendent and magnate.

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I want to be knotted inside the braided vines of your heart.

Far away, inside the slowly moving wings of your relaxed beat,

Softly blowing between the clouds of your most intimate thoughts,

Is where I want my soul to rest.

And every morning awake to freshly squeezed strawberries dripping between the smiles of your fingers,

And to the bliss of your words dipped in honey, sliding off the sides of your tongue;

While being wrapped inside the rising warmth of your hungry skin,

Is where I want my soul to rest.

Late nights and flickering fires bleeding of clenched wax and heated thirst.

Cracked hearts, traveling hands, painted toes and arched necks, genuflecting behind exposed linen and closed curtains.

The whispers of wind between the window seal, the grazing of rose pedals against welcoming bones,

Is where I want my soul to rest.

Evaporated through the lips of pleased desires and stones muzzled in squeezed silence,

Through swaying emotions and tilted waters trapped in waltz;

And mixed between our minds, sweet cream and peppered dreams,

Is where I want my soul to rest.

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Evaporated through the lips of pleased desires and stones muzzled in squeezed silenced

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 the grazing of rose pedals against welcoming bones

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Late nights and flickering fires bleeding of clenched wax and heated thirst

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sweet cream and peppered dreams

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a Tumblr_mgwethjgok1rk4ovao1_500_largeAnd to the bliss of your words dipped in honey sliding off the sides of your tongue;

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And every morning awake to freshly squeezed strawberries dripping between the smiles of your fingers,

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Through swaying emotions and tilted waters  tilted waters trapped in waltz;

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The whispers of wind between the window seal,

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Is where I want my soul to rest.

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God you should have seen Isis, hemorrhaging with ambition while smiling in the harshest of heat.

She stood in the belly of that crowd, raised her arm in the air & matched her heart to the beat.

And suddenly every patron in the city, believers &  doubters, rose quickly to their feet.

Their fists pounding against the rhythm of  the wind; boom, boom, boom, boom!

Kinetic electricity surged from every cavity & splashed through every layer in the room.

Head high and shoulders back, she gave the deuces to anyone who didn’t think she had the knack.

Once the souls that questioned her are now asking for her signature.

Although in the dark & blind to the masses, she doubted nothing while lighting her own torches.

Bearing the brunt of naysayers & pile driving while supplying her own transfusions,

Every night she closed her eyes and challenged the dark with esoteric allusions.

She was a woman, but didn’t need to prove it.

Her ears had swallowed  broken glass and her knees felt the itch of mud and laughing grass.

And while it was in style to sport the scent of gin and sex,

She didn’t bother, she was a self-accepted reject.

All the while undeserving, with gut and grit, she pushed Sisyphus rock up and made it stick.

Her razor tongue savored the water of Tantalus and of others opinions, she could care less.

Unapologetic & foolhardy with determination, she fashions her lips with bona fied narration.

But when the crowd has dissipated she sits alone, contemplative.

And although she is silent in her tears, she paints only what she wants herself to mirror.

Saying nothing, she curls her fingers around the heart of the moon

She squeezes it in hopes of growing more immune.

A goddess, a rebel, a lady of ten thousand names, she breaths to the beat of her own drum, she is a consummate dame.