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Not!
Not Gonna! we won't.
Force it! If it's not flowing confortably!
We won't fake it or force it,
Follow, flow, feel..I
I feel something..
You feel something.
Excuse me. what did you say.
I can barely hear you most times anyway.
Flow, free, feel..Is it real.
Roll, follow, thoughtful.
Thinking about you.
You Me its all so new..
Mechanical.. unreachable..untouchable.
Winds take me there I wanna be there. Mind.
My touch is blind.
I want to decline.
Don't want to wait for this through time.
relationships through web lines.
Creative brilliant finds.
My ears Must listen..
my heart must keep still block yah from gettin in.
Conversations and its hesistations.
I've got options...
Y.O.U..Really! Am I ignoring.
Imaginations.. forsaking hearts for the taking.
O.V.a... Y.O.U.. really!
Not really!
Ball up in a knot and just cry..
This pixel image has caught my eye.
Giving you attitude.. seeming just rude.
I don't really know you dude!
Don't ask me for my pixels..
Don't ask me for images of my pearls.
Figure out what I'm worth.
I'm from the royalty of this Earth.
Like Mother Earth.
Many fail to value her worth.
Treat her like she's simply dirt.
Come through this video screen..
Get out of my dream.
I'm too tired to keep dreaming Oh I.
It's my time to fly..Oh I..
Wanna love yah Like I'll neva say goodbye.
Click on me..Love on me...Delete me.. or block me..
You can decide what your world wants from me.
Am I a easy accessible accessory.
Or will you come for me cherish me eternally.
Make me a part of your real world.
Capture this exotic pearl..
I won't, force it, prove it perfect.
Not! worth it.
Trying to force a gift.
By selinaSharday 2-2018 S.A.M
We move too fast he asking for things he shouldn't even ask, I didn't buy the lies and the falseness in your eyes.
This Poem was given to me by my friend the Author
and poet J Alexander thank you so Much Jay!
Where are u queen?

Somewhere...
seated in-between faded lines of a potent love poem
written in the 60s by hippies named Flower with the
power putting peace in pens teaching Zen to 10 crescent
moons refusing not to glow, only to then grow-up making
a living as a breath-taking metaphor?

Somewhere...
in a private casbah being made to feel like more than
a woman while God summons a handful of her ebony
angels giving each an epiphany of ample high-5's and
performance promotions for a magic potion creation
well done, one eternity at a time?

Somewhere...
still reminiscing about a kiss that could soften stingy steel,
calling no cobs on the cookie unless cats come correct,
not like rookies but like roosters that ****-a-doddle-doo
and make you sit still while layers get peeled till you fulfill
your fantasy feeling the
power of Niagara’s flow?

Somewhere...
letting tomorrow take care of itself as it usual does
while wishing someone-unlike-no-other would take
care of you today, tattooing the inside of your eyelids
with the letters L.O.V.E. with binding blood for you
to gaze at a view of outer-space using commitment
constellations as mental masking tape, sticking by your
side until there is no such a thing as time?

Where did you go?

Somewhere...
sleeping solo, dripping "I'll show him" slob on pride
pillows instead of riding bicycles with no seats -
just the pole, juxtaposed underneath unapologetic
satin sheets swapping gossip on unlimited minutes
about unfinished business to bitter listeners with
limited vision, although behind your back would switch
in an instance, since it's existence - misery always needed company

Somewhere...
thinking about making the 1st move for the 2nd and 3rd time?

Somewhere...
keepin' it 100 with 90% of your single friends?
Where are you my luv?

Somewhere...
becoming conscious, covered deep with earth on a
continent in a South African mine in your prime,
replacing the black blood and applying your tear drops
upon diamonds, making them shine twice as bright
with infinity shelf life?

Somewhere...
practicing saying a surname on for size in front of a
candlelit white picket fenced vanity mirror,
placing pillows near navels underneath your
blouse knowing it fits your style and hoping
that daddy will be speechless proud about his
princess, pride and joy?

Somewhere...
working too **** hard?
Where are you irreplaceable?

Oooooh.....still right here, sippin' Verbal Koffee,
listening to Sade’s I Couldn’t Love You More and down for whatever!!
©2009
jAy aLexander
Fountain Head Publishing

Years back!
A wonderful him back then and when to be remembering the talents of a poet with his hearts pen.
I bought a bunch of wooden soldiers.
I bought them from the store.
And now a hundred tiny soldiers
guard my bedroom door.

So if you're a scary monster-thing
who wants to go to war,
my bedroom door is open.
I'm not frightened anymore.
I hide my head under the covers and cry
I don’t want to wake my guy
The knee pain
Is driving me insane
stabbing pain while sleeping
Muffling the sounds of weeping
A clogged nose aggravates my COPD
and I constantly have to ***
Walking Is not and easy task
With an oxygen mask
My knee gives out without warning
And it’s almost morning
Another day without rest
It’s impossible to do my best
Progressively its gotten worse
I can no longer carry my purse
a total knee replacement I need
If a better life is to succeed
It took me all of the next day
To be able to get up to my dismay
It’s time to clean the families mess
I don’t mind I must confess
For I am
Blessed
Each day starts out  new a clean slate  better then the last
~
O Painter
with thy own eye
                        would thee
paint me in mine own natural hue
prithee paint me as i am,
imperfections
            and blemishes true

Load thy brush
                      with colors sundry
to maketh yond first pure sweep
across the ****** frieze,
fill'd with pangs of hunger.
paint me as i standeth
                  bethought, in deep

With mine own love and mine own desire,
blurring the edges unclean
with mine own regrets
                  and mine own mental gyre,
in mine own natural age,
               of deep forest green

O Painter
Paint me sinister turquoise,
in lavender and maroon,
combine the amethyst and amber
blend the iceberg
       and the indigo moon.

Paint me as i standeth,
       prithee see with thy eye
a mistress in yond lady plight
Prithee paint me all i am
i cullionly
a mistress in all yond lady might

Paint me in the optimistic
                             silv'r of dawn,
but don’t miss the purple
to shade the bruise
                              of the bygone.
paint me in the sky blue journal

O Painter
Paint me as a unique template
smudge black white and grizzled
merging all the colors of thy palette.
col'r me a rainbow
                            in a rainy drizzle

Paint me tall so yond i standeth
loftier than any mountain
Paint me as a dram bird, delicate
with soft feathers silken

Paint me harmony, as a violin
so yond i can sing thy solitary tune
paint me as thy poetry
         with song and melody
wrapp'd in a cocoon

O Painter
paint me as a dream yond rises
                               in did saturate colors
with a steady upbeat flight awry
tint, a fluttering
             of a quite quaint butterfly

Portray me with endurance
imbue so bold and bright
doth not hesitate
                to depict mine own mind
in profound fuchsia and white.

Useth the colors yond thee would borrow
Thy palette not yet exsufflicate
Paint mine own loss and mine own sorrow
in search of a shade so ******

Adorn mine own heart in glowing garnet
at which hour thee paint mine own love
add a true broken blue shade
of the cloud and the rain above;

Study mine own dry sorrow
                              in mine own soul
useth any shade thee plaited
soften the edges of control
in a tinge of xanthene.

O Painter
Prithee paint me
Mine own passion and mine own spirit
shall has't a crimson r'd hint
mine own remorse and mine own regret
shall reflect an ink stain print

Paint me in mine own eye so true
O Painter
but add a dash of courage too

~
When I paint, I’m never quite satisfied as I see all my mistakes, blemishes and colors not quite right. I tend to keep painting to try and get it all right. At some point, I arrive with the conclusion, if I keep going I’m going to mess it up. I stand across the room and, it’s then that I’m amazed at what I have created. I like to think that I’m seen in the same way by my creator.
..

ATTRACTION

..

We're like two peas in a pod,
two magnets stuck together
And occasionally
we draw away
fall distant
And only space
Resides between us
© January 5, 2017 deprivedkat
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