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michael-f-anthony
michael-f-anthony
'Moon Swoon' They call me hip as I slip through smokey corridors, searching for a beat to compliment my groove Tonight that groove might choose you Can you sway with my vibe Can you rock with my step A wink of my eye presses PAUSE on your hesitation Come get your man if you think you can hang The sleepless night awaits us stomping the town In the wake of my swagger these mere mortals drown, but...don't...get...it...twisted The intellect is well in check Envious cats howl at my prowess, jocking a power they can hardly fathom I pay 'em no mind 'cause you have all of mine With a smile i can unlock your silk purse With a word i can serenade your soul With a touch i can make you loose control Now dip with your date in the light of this jazzy moon We have a lot of love to make and not a lot of time
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC
Moon Swoon
Karma or Kismet Was it fate or a figment? Was it karma or kismet? A fool’s wish or a poet’s dream? At this point I can’t remember. At this point it no longer matters. The moment she walked into the room my life was changed forever. So much so, that I can no longer remember who I was before she first spoke my name. Yet this was not the plan. The world was mine alone, a playground for my every wish and whim. I held it in my hand with no more regard than a child has for a toy. In that land of make believe I crowned myself king over a realm of ash, upon a throne of dust. For what more could it be without a queen with whom to share it with? Now it seems that the fates are laughing at me, because the mere thought of her has shattered the walls of my fortress of solitude. The curve of her smile has rendered me into Cupid’s fool. This so-called king has become a servant to the beating of his heart, which now beats for her. Longing only to find a corner of her heart that could be mine and mine alone. Hoping that same heart smiles when she thinks of me, as mine does for her. Not wanting to be the center of her universe. Just wanting to be worthy enough to be in it. To be at her side as she would be at mine. Ruling together the vision of a kingdom painted on a canvas of love with hues of both our choosing. Truly this must be the way things are meant to be. Yet reality reminds me once again that these are merely the musings of a romantic, hopelessly confined within the will of fate. But if it were not for this dream the word 'hope' would lose all meaning. So continue to dream I shall, until the judge of time verdicts that this should be a figment or fate. by Michael F. Anthony February 18, 2012
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 12:00 PM UTC
Karma or Kismet
Karma or Kismet Was it fate or a figment? Was it karma or kismet? A fool’s wish or a poet’s dream? At this point I can’t remember. At this point it no longer matters. The moment she walked into the room my life was changed forever. So much so, that I can no longer remember who I was before she first spoke my name. Yet this was not the plan. The world was mine alone, a playground for my every wish and whim. I held it in my hand with no more regard than a child has for a toy. In that land of make believe I crowned myself king over a realm of ash, upon a throne of dust. For what more could it be without a queen with whom to share it with? Now it seems that the fates are laughing at me, because the mere thought of her has shattered the walls of my fortress of solitude. The curve of her smile has rendered me into Cupid’s fool. This so-called king has become a servant to the beating of his heart, which now beats for her. Longing only to find a corner of her heart that could be mine and mine alone. Hoping that same heart smiles when she thinks of me, as mine does for her. Not wanting to be the center of her universe. Just wanting to be worthy enough to be in it. To be at her side as she would be at mine. Ruling together the vision of a kingdom painted on a canvas of love with hues of both our choosing. Truly this must be the way things are meant to be. Yet reality reminds me once again that these are merely the musings of a romantic, hopelessly confined within the will of fate. But if it were not for this dream the word 'hope' would lose all meaning. So continue to dream I shall, until the judge of time verdicts that this should be a figment or fate. by Michael F. Anthony February 18, 2012
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The Day the Sun Didn't Rise by Michael F. Anthony Out of the cold dark of night you awoke one morning to a new sun shining. Different than the morn before, this dawn enveloped you in the warmth of its love. It's rays illuminating those special things in life that you had never seen before. Every second of its passing marking moments that you wished would never end. How wonderful it felt to bask in its light. Yet all the while its purpose, its joy was to illuminate who you are, and show the world your beauty. Now as is natures way, the cold of night was destined to come again, But the light of your sun burned bright in your heart, as you awaited its arrival once more. With butterflies of anticipation you greeted your love each morning. And each day as you ran with it across the sky, your bond of love was renewed. Moments, memories and moons went by and your sun was always there, ready to begin each new day with you. Then that first day came... the day that you were not there to greet it with the love that gave its fire purpose. Soon, one day turned to many as you took for granted that the sun would always be there as it has been through the clouds and storms. Now the night for you has become an infatuation for which you have abandoned your love of the dawn. The light of morning cried out for you to awake, but most days you awoke just in time to watch your sun set, brokenhearted and alone. Then all too quickly, as is its way, the night became cold and unloving. And what seemed like love became a cloak of darkness that enveloped you in its deceit. Yes, the sun shines still, but it is no longer yours. Though it has never forgotten you, its light and warmth now burns bright for another And as you chase it on dark horizons, your soul laments, regretting the day the sun did not rise for you.
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May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC
The Day the Sun Didn't Rise, by Michael Fitzgerald Anthony
The Day the Sun Didn't Rise by Michael F. Anthony Out of the cold dark of night you awoke one morning to a new sun shining. Different than the morn before, this dawn enveloped you in the warmth of its love. It's rays illuminating those special things in life that you had never seen before. Every second of its passing marking moments that you wished would never end. How wonderful it felt to bask in its light. Yet all the while its purpose, its joy was to illuminate who you are, and show the world your beauty. Now as is natures way, the cold of night was destined to come again, But the light of your sun burned bright in your heart, as you awaited its arrival once more. With butterflies of anticipation you greeted your love each morning. And each day as you ran with it across the sky, your bond of love was renewed. Moments, memories and moons went by and your sun was always there, ready to begin each new day with you. Then that first day came... the day that you were not there to greet it with the love that gave its fire purpose. Soon, one day turned to many as you took for granted that the sun would always be there as it has been through the clouds and storms. Now the night for you has become an infatuation for which you have abandoned your love of the dawn. The light of morning cried out for you to awake, but most days you awoke just in time to watch your sun set, brokenhearted and alone. Then all too quickly, as is its way, the night became cold and unloving. And what seemed like love became a cloak of darkness that enveloped you in its deceit. Yes, the sun shines still, but it is no longer yours. Though it has never forgotten you, its light and warmth now burns bright for another And as you chase it on dark horizons, your soul laments, regretting the day the sun did not rise for you.
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