spurt release
fountain
age yes age
horrifies
takes time
age of age
to relax
yes relax
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
Watching the sun rise over the place where I live was a very peaceful sight.
I read somewhere that the artists call the twilight hour the color hour;I never understood why.. But now, I do.
Imagine yourself as you stand on the terrace of your house, a light cool breeze plays with your hair making it blow, the sky's all dark,with a few stars twinkling here and there.
And as you watch the previously pitch black sky gets a light blue ray of light;like an artist's stroke of light blue paint over a black color canvas. The long dead stars that are still visible burn even more brightly at this time and just as you're watching, a few more rays appear dancing in the sky. You hear the birds chirp in the background but all your attention is diverted towards the scene that is playing in front you. The light blue rays, combine with the other rays of different colors; mauve,dark purple,dark blue,yellow,orange and many others, combining into a perfect blur. Then suddenly the yellow color takes over the sky with the orange highlights and the stars disappear, their glow overpowered by the magical glow of the sun.
You can see some birds fly here and there which is weird-- since they're aren't a lot of birds here.
Then, from behind the silhouetted figure of the houses in front you, the big ball of light appears,illuminating the streets of Askari XVI that look just ordinary during the day.
And that Is when vans,busses, and cars rumble on the streets as life continues the way it must-- The way it does. Unaware of the beauty that rises and sets everyday.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 10:51 AM UTC
When the door opens,
spitting rhymes as it creaks ajar
i will stand anxious in hopes that my opportunity has come.
I yearn to live atop a mountain
Overlooking the world.
Life would be quiet.
As I would share company with only but my lonely abode.
I would arise early in the morning to hear the scurrying of animals
and their love to be noticed
and their love to be left alone.
My fear would have stayed back with the door that led me to this.
I would be free.
I would not be imprisoned.
Just as the stars fight through darkness to be seen.
They are not imprisoned either.
When the door opens,
spitting rhymes as it creaks ajar
i will stand anxious in hopes that my opportunity has come.
Nature would suffocate me,
Blurring my old vision,
And defining a new unspeakable vision.
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 10:42 AM UTC
"you should write a picture about that"
said the poet
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 1:41 AM UTC
When the night wind makes the pine trees creak
And the pale clouds glide across the dark sky,
Go out my child, go out and seek
Your soul: The Eternal I.
For all the grasses rustling at your feet
And every flaming star that glitters high
Above you, close up and meet
In you: The Eternal I.
Yes, my child, go out into the world; walk slow
And silent, comprehending all, and by and by
Your soul, the Universe, will know
Itself: the Eternal I.
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 8:58 PM UTC
Eggshells crack under the weight of words
How is one to walk on them?
Fear breeds silence
Silence builds walls
Speak your mind or go
Remain not in silence, but freedom
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:19 PM UTC