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.

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

////

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, ”En garde.”

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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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 – On a sculpture of Josep Reynés (1850 – 1926)

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

Song from Arcadia:

“My True Love Hath My Heart”

BY SIR PHILIP SIDNEY

My true-love hath my heart and I have his,

By just exchange one for the other given:

I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss;

There never was a bargain better driven.

His heart in me keeps me and him in one;

My heart in him his thoughts and senses guides:

He loves my heart, for once it was his own;

I cherish his because in me it bides.

His heart his wound received from my sight;

My heart was wounded with his wounded heart;

For as from me on him his hurt did light,

So still, methought, in me his hurt did smart:

Both equal hurt, in this change sought our bliss,

My true love hath my heart and I have his.

   

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.

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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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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“Poetry is nearer to vital truth than history.”

Plato

“Every 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.”

Plato

“According to Plato, we don’t 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.”

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.

I caught a cab from 1st and everywhere,

drove around the city, head out the window, wind in my hair.

I was looking for you.

Lips pouting in  ready rouge and black sheer.

*

How many ways do I need to tell you,

or better yet no,

 I’ll show you.

*

You’ve awoken the lioness.

I was sleeping,

panting heavy,

slow and rolling;

ready to be waked.

*

And then,

I was upside down.

Feeling the red leak, one drip drop to the tip of my brain

pushing against eyes, as I smiled and pretended to be sane.

*

It’s like being shot in the heart and loving, no needing the taste.

It’s walking alone in the dark while twisting and winding your waist.

And all I see,

are visions,

of you.

*

How about,

I’ll show you,

I’ll tell you,

no matter how.

*

I’ll show you,

I’ll tell you,

right now.

*

I bought a pair of silk stalkings

hoping they would speak to you;

it was black lace, see-through.

I slid um up my leg and well,

the rest was in my head.

I took the candles to bed and let the wax tilt and play

and my skin, well, it was red and warm the next day.

*

In all my millenniums, if there’s any time to look into my eyes

it’s right now.

No coy, only candid.

Can you see yourself in them?

 Splendid.

A sculptor slaving over swallow happy skin.

And me, holding all my giggles in the corners of my grin.

*

And note,

that this omission,

is  for you,

and only you.

*

I only want to open my arms to

the one who can truly grasp

 the point,

to all,

of this.

But do tell me,

do you wonder how I kiss?

*

I’m constantly pouring myself over roses,

redefining the color of steam,

hoping to be unmasked, and then finally,

seen.

*

See I was porcelain,

stuck in one position;

until your heat,

it thawed me out.

*

I’m like a bee playing with a cat

“here kitty kitty,

But don’t by fooled by size, my bite stings,

deeply deeply.

*

And while looking for you,

you better find me soon.

Because frankly,

my darling,

life is quite boring without the bloom.

*

See, you’re like honey clinging to it’s bottle

lecherous, halting and light.

But one day, suddenly

you’ll be weighted with the desire to reach the tongue,

with all your might.

And well,

I might yawn

and even possibly,

be

long

gone.

*

Although I must say,

weighted in me, is so much of you.

*

Besides, who will help me put my pearls on

and slip on my black nylons.

*

Oh, and if you’re wondering.

I taste like

rain,

vapor

and rose pedals.

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Photo: Katja

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Photo: Calvin♥

Photo: Calvin♥

Photo: Calvin♥

atong

Photo: Calvin♥

Photo: Katja

I only want to open my arms to

the one who can truly grasp

 the point,

to all,

of this.

But do tell me,

do you wonder,how I kiss?

To You, My Heart

March 24, 2013

I have come to great resolve

and must attest,

bare chested and with the wealth of every beat,

that had I but one last breath,

it would belong to you.

*

Spacious valves

dazzled skin

and captured soul,

Orchestrated by the abounding measures of an enchanted organ.

*

 Awash in the corners of each chamber

are your prints, apparent and benign.

*

Alive inside mellifluous veins

streams the rapture of a discovered being.

*

But my castle of bones, how quickly they do relent.

Not withstanding, my crux remains,

past soil, bloom, and flight

an immeasurable part of you.

*

Opulent warmth

fermented dreams

& imbued crimson

Splashed inside an infinitely swelling fortress.

*

In the simplest of terms,

You are therefore I beat.

The Sixth Element

March 3, 2013

By: Magnolia

I sat in silence, squeezing at the first fruit I saw in sight.

And as I crushed it,

Bruised, its tears bled between the angst collected in the gut of my palm,

And It absorbed my pain.

I wanted it all to cease

Clocks

Work

Things

And every element known to man, in which I supposed I could survive without.

Starved my body would wilt, but with you, my Sixth Element,

Through you my being is infinite

My divinity and happiness

Defined by the mere possibility of being cradled inside the womb of your arms

For together, we are a monochromatic combustion of harmony.

 *

But I lament,

For I have the feeling, that you are far away;

Your spirit near but your body,

It’s far away.

And as I watch the world roll by,

And fill my mind with ideas, materials and longing,

They all rot away;

Insignificant without you.

*

The sea, earth, sky, fire, wind, and you, my Sixth Element.

The crucial crux to my existence

You are my thoughts final burial place.

For no matter how busy this sphere gets

And I busy in it, will there ever be

A substitution for this feeling

Created and filled,

In what would normally take a thousand lifetimes,

By the life captured inside the streams of your rising chest

 *

Your breath is my sixth element,

The released & genuflecting wave,

The tectonic shift,

The fearlessness at the edge of a cliff.

The exquisite point to which all else rotates.

And your skin, a road-map leading to the tip of your lips;

The place where all longing is quenched,

And where silence is arced into shapes only seen by me.

 *

 You have shifted the melody of the sun and moon

With my nights being consumed with closed eyed images of you

A kaleidoscope of possibilities trapped inside of me.

With my eyes, never asleep for you.

And my days locked in the knowing

That no matter what I do or how much I grab,

You are the only thing, that I must, I have to have.

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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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Getimage_large

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!

Spoken Like a True Lady

February 2, 2013

My sister recently sent me an interview done with Dakota Fanning by  Glamour Magazine for this upcoming March, and I must say I was refreshingly surprised!  To hear someone who stands upon such a large stage, maintain such a refined, confident and introspective concept about dating, was, for lack of a better word, cool.

Since (who knows when it began), there have been so many books and films telling us how to bate, catch and date; like the film, ‘Think Like a Lady act Like a Man,’ whose main premise is to give “insight” into the male mind. Maybe instead of incessantly calculating and game playing, dating everyone who bats an eye at us, and treating men or woman as a cliché and stereotype, we’d find more long-term satisfaction in dealing with people on a one-on-one human to human basis.

I realize that there are stereotypes that are true and that for some, reading these books, and watching these films “helps” them navigate the dating world, but I think that all this time people spend dating others should be mostly split with time dating oneself. I’m not suggesting everyone take themselves to a dinner and movie every night (although on occasion not a bad idea), only, that the more you are truly acquainted with yourself, the less you would need to browse the book store to know what types of books you like.  I’m not saying dating is bad, in fact for some, it’s the only way they distinguish between what they want and don’t want.  I just think that less is more, and that in the end, it should really be about the quality of humans that you are selecting in-verse of the quantity. The fact is,  if you get to truly know yourself really well, you won’t have to sift through so many people because you will know what you want when you meet it.

I suppose, in the world of pastries it would be tantamount to knowing that your tongue and tummy prefer to eat a delectable Crème brûlée over a bowl with a potpourri of 100 different types of sweets. While a Crème brûlée does take longer to make then a bunch of cookies, it is well-worth the wait.  Or as my sister says when we are at restaurants deciding on which dessert, “Why am I going to eat a bunch of jello when I know I want Crème brûlée. Even though I’m hungry, I’ll wait for the best desert.”

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Knowing what you want and waiting for it, will lend quicker to a satisfied palate, and perhaps is the best recipe for an everlasting love. The truth is, there’s nothing silly, strange, or naive about a perspective that sits in the belly of knowing who you are,  what you want and waiting for exactly that. I find her answer to be quite temperate and thoughtful in a world that can be so quick, sticky and gluttonous. Perhaps I’ll sum it up with words of Saint Augustine, who said it best with,” Patience is the companion of wisdom”


The following is an excerpt from Glamour Magazine:

Dakota Fanning may be entwined in “The Twilight Saga” franchise, but she has nothing to do with any of the romantic drama that surrounds many of its other stars off-camera. In fact, she doesn’t even date.

“I don’t really date,” the 18-year-old says in the March issue of Glamour.

Wait, what?! What kind of teenager isn’t interested in dating?

“I have a weird vision of relationships because my parents have known each other since second grade, and they got married right out of college,” she explains. “I’ve always thought that’s what it’s supposed to be like, and if it’s not, then I don’t want to waste my time on it. Even when I was 14, I was like, ‘I’m not gonna marry this person. What’s the point of doing it?’ It’s not me being naive. I just know what it’s supposed to be like. And I think until I feel that, I cannot be bothered.”

Ever the surprising young woman, Dakota also credits her 14-year-old sister, Elle, as being an inspiration.

“She’s very uninhibited and will try pretty much anything,” Dakota says. “Even the way she dresses — she dresses totally for herself. She risks being made fun of … by me, which I sometimes do, because I’m an older sister! But I totally admire her and think she’s very cool.”

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The Waltz

January 23, 2013

 

By:  Magnolia

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 I am the soil        And I the tree

 Together embraced, closely.

I am the wind      And I the leaves

Together we float careless and free.

I am the heart     And I the beat

Together we move quiet and discreet.

I am the pencil      And I the paper

Together we scribble the answer.

I am the bones     And I the skin

Together we build cover, beginning to end.

I am the door      And I  the knob

Together we absorb every throb.

I am the path     And I the water

Together we travel, paving next chapters

I’m the composer   And I the composition

Together creating melodies that grow and glisten.

I am the paint          And I your canvas

Together splashed and blended into the infinite planned for us.

I am the body    And I your bends

Together till the very end.

So when your color fades

and lines surround your eyes,

My lips will seal your heart with first loves reprise.

And when you are tiered,

I will be your awake

Forever in a waltz through love and heartache.

The breath to your lips, the sound to your silence,

The view to your window and the X to your spot;

We are but four eyes and one vision,

Percolated poetry, bound for eternity.

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Lovers under African Sky

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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.

Ramblings on Deaf Ears

January 8, 2013

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By: Magnolia

I’m not supposed to, but I do.

I’m pushing against an emotion that encompasses you.

Anything you say shouldn’t matter, but it does,

Everything you do makes me dream of what never was.

Although you exist in form and we see each-other every day,

To you, the true me is a stranger, with the whole of me just wanting you to go away.

But a part of me, a part of me yearns for you to stay.

You are the cause of heavy, nostalgic moving possibilities,

Yet every time we face, my mouth runs away and my heart works with great difficulty.

And my clumsiness, well that’s just displaced and gibbered poetry,

Brought to you by a heart, innocent and nervy.

Like gray clouds, straining to hold buckets of water in its nest,

Or a butterfly trapped inside a cocoons beating chest;

I hold this undefined, rapturous feeling, for you.

With abstruse hope that in discovering me, there’ll be a breakthrough.

To know me is to want me, as knowing you has led to unrequited anxiety.

Maybe you are worst than the parts I’ve dreamt up,

In fact my mind is pleading for my heart to wake up.

But a glimmer of hope is all that’s needed to keep this feeling afloat.

So let’s make a deal, let me be your first lifeboat.

To keep you dry before you’re soaked,

To illuminate your mind and to allow your heart and mine to convoke.

To shake the ground beneath your feet, to make you feel reborn,

To speak unspoken words & cheer you up when you’re forlorn.

And for me? All I ask for is my discovery.

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Your Lips, Dylan’s Voice

January 8, 2013

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By: Magnolia

You introduced me to him.

His rickety voice scratched against my ear buds yet filled me, ever so slightly, to the brim.

I was young and you were dapper & sweet,

He was strange and a bit tottery & offbeat.

But never mind that he was not my favorite tune,

You loved him and that made my day, even on the rainiest of afternoons.

So in the fashion of a freshly made acquired taste,

I lay in bed wrapped in the melodies of Dylan while staring at your face.

Over and under he strummed me into a blissful sleep,

As I closed my eyes and dreamt of your kiss skin-deep.

The next morning the city was gray and I was blue,

As I watched you smile, wave and walk away with noble virtue.

And although you were gone, it was Dylan’s song;

That kept me afloat, for another day,

 For as long as I shut my lids, I could pretend it was all gonna’ be okay.

Your lips and Dylan’s voice are the last memories I left behind,

Before moving on past my emotional moonshine.