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Glenn McCrary Mar 2012
Vocabulary

Bears imagism

Foundation


Imagery

Amplifies eloquence

Apache's tear


Metaphors

Stabilize meaning

Plausibility


Allegory

Visualizes enigma

Sammi Poe
Glenn McCrary Mar 2012
Foxy pumps

Visually inviting

Stimulus


Leather jeans

Objectively elevating

Yield


Indie jazz

Naturally circuits

Relish


Vivid suspense

Intellectually appeasing
Glenn McCrary Mar 2012
The hue of streets; cousins of chalkboards;
the distinct voice of transition; of forbidden love
sipped through straws of anticipation;
swallowing decadent tribulations
to nourish picturesque gardens
and English dreams; the line between
appreciation and alienation
Happens to be the blemish
of today's death; headline hopscotch
founding father of premeditation
Sound prints in the sand
Glenn McCrary Mar 2012
Artistry seeps ripe


Bearing pine


An ****** gem




A seasoned refrain


Sound evolves


E-sugar delight




Quite a lovely flare


A scarce gift


7th world pixels




Mementos I chase


Span a void


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Glenn McCrary Mar 2012
Written by Glenn McCrary & Skinny Jean


Unforeseen a tapestry of amour had dawned

A profound mutual attraction our eyes had met

Upon first taste of your lips I knew

Someone like you I'd never quite soon forget



And when first brushed by

Your lashes of pure vanity

I saw the first glimpse

Of what I'd wished to see



And in amongst the rivalry

Of the other girls

I learned that you

Were truly something else



Only for me to steal your heart,

At the first invigorating touch,

when our fingertips met

And you slid them through the gaps,

Clasping My pulse; rapidly taking

It's toll on my breath



I just could not be

Bothered to turn away

For your natural charm was

What turned me your way

A subtle stroke of forever

An everlasting sequence of you




© 2012 (All rights reserved)
Glenn McCrary Mar 2012
Chemistry infuses



Grains of solace



Forecast





Passion illuminates



Forbearance wakes



Queries





Affirmation ejects



Anticlimax occurs



Siren



© 2012 (All rights reserved)
Glenn McCrary Mar 2012
Bedlams rest within
these indigo walls;
the new age of senses
like bloodhounds, we scratch
and sniff the streets
for freedom;ambitious
we reach; we attempt
to clasp this distinguished
portrait as an escape route,
but we are met with misfortune
a ghost has traveled these woods
he has; his presence can be tasted
lurking within the breeze
the new age of senses unfolds
an awakening to behold



© 2012 (All rights reserved)
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