Roses and Gold chains
Living ones life stained, and there’s no time to moan-a-lisa
But try this, listen: allow this blues of love to touch your ear
Let the past be just a memory and not a future gate locker that will shut you out from happiness
Drink in the soul soothing, smooth blend of guitars and harp harmonicas intertwine with the inner drums of your heartbeat
Feel the ocean your closed ears bring to life and let that tranquil calm state coexist with the depth of the soft minor chords brought to life by the;
Gentle hands as that of potter massaging the clay till it takes shape, and submit to the tender dominants, stroking the clay from top to the lower parts
The movement starts on a slow, and the movement increases as the two blend, and the hand is by now smooth sailing on the smooth creation
Allow the blues to be the potter of your humpy, and rough countenance that’s been disfigured
And made mushy by incessant rains that haunt this once floral mind,
Turned to a graveyard, having rusty gates, making it appear even more grisly
Invite the sound to transfigure your inner self to a cherubim that is snow white; this might seem like Childs play and what if it is?
You watched them when you were young and all you need to do now is to believe in them
Hope to be bluesed than bruised
And i know that staying in tune is not as easy as being off tune, but;
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 4:49 PM UTC
Twist and turns,
bruised and hurt For having faith, accused of being fake
But still I stand, enduring till the end
Martyrs try to polytheis' this Being, but Deep within lives a king,
don't get it twisted this is no fiction
And so my vision is clear,
vinni da viccii my portraits are vivid
Never mind those who try to mimic, this perfect image
Pay homage to the soul typing this
Whose focus is never shifting,
even though emotions tend to be changing When twists and turns arrive
I think God, Demi gods or polytheism
But I don't want to pass no criticism
No I don't, and I do have my reasons
Spring, summer and autumn and winter aren't jealous of each other
Everything has its time and season, I've been thinking
Everything used on earth has a maker
The additional beauty, you add using make-up
And the melody, helping you wake-up every morning
I know my maker
______________________________________
Twists and turns
Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
We crossed paths
I crossed a line
You crossed me off your list
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC
The world has not been
kind to her kind.
Tormented by her mind,
peace she can not find.
History bears witness
to her mental stain.
Told that her skin is a disease,
she scrubs away the pain.
Wounded and forever alone
in this desert terrain.
Hope floods her thoughts
like summer rain.
The red of her blood seeps through her scars,
liquid consolation caressing her skin.
She is human,isn't that enough?
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
If only i could die in my sleep and I wake up to my dream.
I don't wanna know reality.
I just want to be carefree.
Live on the edge with no needs to strategically plan a plan B.
I just want to live in this utopia eternally,be able to harvest in the grape vine which isn't a resemblance of rumours.
Run with my bare feet in strawberry fields.
Don't even tell me what stress is. Let the wind whisper to my soul as I stand placid.
I close my eyes and drift in celestial realms, just to be observant and admire..not to quest.
The luminescence of the sun screamed "wake up!" to my eyes. I tried to keep them shut
reality kicked it as I dreaded waking up. I sighed "life".
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 9:17 AM UTC
Words mean a lot, though miss used a lot
And so I thought why not, type-out my thoughts
At the age of twenty, I fought a lot and I lost
Submitted to reality, thanks to life for this munity
I quarrel with this world to find my golden state, but
Even in the golden age, this imperfect being still remains
Yes I grow with age, learn from my mistakes
Expelling all the weeds, growing and suffocating this angelic
Creation
So when I wake-up,
stare at mirror, moisture my skin with perfumed lotion
With the attempt to adorn this temple...
Close to Goodness yet far from purity
at times I may be white, till my robe is painted with mud
I'm only human, and yes I fall, but get back up
This life is rough, behind the smiles and all the love
Remain deep scars, this life is tough, but I still laugh
Endure the harsh times, and all the storms
If I be iron this structure would be corroded
Filled with rust, burying, who I really am All my imperfections, lust lack of trust, sometimes lack of love, and all the scars can taint my soul
Flawless Imperfectionist
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 9:09 AM UTC
You said I love you
and with just three words
silence crept into the phone
like the aftermath of an tsunami
& caused my shell to crack
like the earth under a powerful wave
& the ocean to drag me out
drowning me
into a sea of proverbial bliss
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 5:02 PM UTC
I'm not good in arts
Never hit the bull-eye
In a game of darts
But mine eyes can be arty
Especially when dissapointed, by the one I'm hearting
If my thoughts were painting(s), vivid they would be
Above everything...
The mirror never lies and I've tested this
And everything on it I can see my bliss
See the reflection of my tears, the point is
My mirror never lies
Beauty is in the eye(s) of the beholder, but as you grow older
You will know that there's no order in this
A diamond is a diamond to me, but just a stone to you
Yes its true
Mine eyes are arty
I know this is confusing but, the celestial environment I dwell in
Just took over these thoughts and blew me away
So now I say, try and surf my wave
I'm far away from the normal state
I'm calm, I'm rough, I'm tumbling
Call me a high tide, I'm reaching for the zenith
Cause in it, I find myself
Growing floral thoughts
This mirror is creative, or is it my eyes
Cause I see myself wading
And everybody, waving
As if I'm leaving
All along I've been creating a lake with mine eyes
These none **** brown eyes
Have created a lake of tears
Tears of joy
Man my eyes are arty
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
L O V E
A simple word with a simple meaning
No complex theories, no rocket science
Yet the most difficult thing to hold onto
H A P P I N E S S
Simple…maybe not?
The two go hand in hand
Or so we think?
What is life without love and affection?
It is emptiness, devoid of emotion
Darkness, devoid of light
Weakness, devoid of strength
Barbarism, devoid of humanity
L I F E
The beginning and ending of all creations
Happiness and sadness
Strength and weakness
Humility and pride
Greatness… cast into our genes from the beginning of time
Forming and shaping the world we live in
Steering our minds with vast new possibilities and opportunities
It is woven into our spirit
It is what we are born with
WHO WE ARE
WHAT WE ARE
Despite the condemnation we are and forever will be GREATNESS.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 4:44 AM UTC
she was sophisticated.
classy.
billows of smoke surrounded her,
like the admiring eyes filling the cafe.
every movement more graceful than the last.
she orders another cup and smirks.
though it seemed like she had it all together,
she was just as undone as the rest of us.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 4:21 AM UTC