Hear the drums and follow my steps
like a perfect army in sync you will never rest
March with me let's explore the infinite sea
Let's seek the wisdom you and me

The sweet wisdom lies inside
Frequencies vibrating high

All is energy and it just flows
Share your love and watch it glow
Frequencies vibrating low
Changing forms
Transmutation
Shapeless patterns offers no perfection

The infinite wisdom lies inside
You just have to see the energy between the lines

The wisdom is buried in the darkest corners of the mind
The wisdom lies in the wild

The wisdom lies in the heart..


Words Of Harfouchism.

There's an awkward thrill I feel
like wicked-wet rabies –
Oh. Ah. Oh.
To gaze over photos of the woman I created.
With my warped perception,
saturating and cropping everything into delicious
oblivion.
I am the knife as well as the ingredients
that sauteed her together in a camera flash.
She sits hot like heaven.
And I want to
stare at her picture all day until she comes to life.

The woman I created, I hang up like perfected rotisserie
and fall in love with her accidentally every day.
Looking into those precisely underlined
tiger-*** eyes of startling navy. Knowing their true dullness.
Hissing at the free-swinging curls
and the hours behind them. Loving the lie.
The flowy top and sleek trousers gliding down lovely as Niagara
over chaffing chub; all hidden. And thighs; unshaven.
And that topical smile everyone likes to see, waiting to plummet
into suicide like a kite hanging in one tight second.
Her image is my greatest
False accomplishment.

I hang my portrait up on a wall of the internet
for people of the world to migrate to
the photo exhibit, my little show-off room.
They make offers and toss compliments
with their “I like this. I like this." nonsense.


They don't know that the girl in the portrait, she
isn't organic. They seem not to notice
that she is something of a chemical flower.
Her face is my face, only with whiteout poison-paste
smoothed over twice.
And they want to
stare at her picture all day until she comes to life.

Gazing upon her believed-to-be beauty, as I hang my paintbrush,
she bites her body still as a painting,
bruised and needled
into perfect frame. She cries
like Jesus Christ, as she is stared at, but not seen.
I am the artist as well as the object.
And the woman in the portrait is
nothing,
but dot after dot of manipulated color.
And we want to
stare at her picture all day until she comes to life.

Lake waters rose heavily, forming
the wall with a line of sinking clouds
about to burst forth.

And for many violent
seconds, hail hit,
giving off a terrible sound,
like elephants
toppling to the ground.

Just as abruptly as it
had begun, so it ended.
Sun met rain
and birthed an eye-grabbing double
rainbow that hung dazzling
and quiet;
it, too, for mere seconds...

Did you see the trees, the way they separate?
Did you see the air behind them, all oblong and jagged framed?
Each branch turning into another,
separating and connecting,  again and again.
Slow, complex growth.
It was natural progression at its finest.
and didn't you feel the way I looked at you?
or did you see it?  It was nothing.
No, it was something. It really is.
The way you are, the way we act,
How we want to act.
The little things I bring you , all those gifts,
they mean something too.
I could say it, but I try not to.
I said "I can't help but keep you in mind"
I meant to hesitate.
Everything I do, there's purpose behind it.
The feelings aren't complicated.
It's a situation,
far from ideal and clearly exciting.
It built up.
The tension felt like long years,
patiently watching in some sort of humble admiration.
But the way you do things, it's getting to me.
It's this appreciation,
for every cell, every action, and every opinion.
It's all so fascinating and it's been filling my head.
Thoughts tricking me in my sleep,
turning life into wondering days.
Your ways, should they be complimented by my ways?
Because, I always found this exciting:
not knowing, not doing,
never asking.
I thought maybe it's enough, what it is.

But for an instant, everything changed.  
Passion and desire took physical form.
The experience, the moment,
it was fast and intense,
and that reveal has wrapped itself around me ever since.
Apprehensive ways were filtered into something else.
Bad undertones, caught in the strainer and set aside.
We could be so innocent,
and we can enjoy what's been neglected.
A mutual leap, hand in hand.
Hands strong and without hesitation,
moving your skin like raw clay,
pushing, clenching.
Comparable to a surgeons precision.
Confidence backing every movement.
Fluid, and naturally rough.
Rough, like the way I pulled your hair.
Precise, like the way I bit your neck.
It was exactly where you'd have me.
Almost harder than you'd ask.
Face to face. My lead.
Me against you.
Your back against the wall.
A strong and careful force,
moving my left to grab your throat,
while the right falls at your ready hip.
The spot I've been dying for.
It's just the way they look.
Smooth skin over hard bones.
Smooth skin that leads into your jeans,
and travels up into your shirt.
Places I shouldn't go,
but there you are, and I see how you feel this.
It feels like you want it to feel.
I feel that way too.
Excitement is at full throttle,
yet, overall comfort is keeping me steady.
A grip on your hip pulls you in closely,
face to face, lips touching lips.
Not just touching, but for the first time.
Not kissing, but desperate to.
That feeling revealed.
This is what it's like, and this is what it sounds like.
Your voice, only raspy air.
Sort of like a whisper.
Not words, but sounds of enjoyment.
Warm breath meeting mine.
Exchanging.
Feeling control, then lightning strikes.
You playfully bite my lip causing me to exhale.
Caught off guard
Completely high off you and the way you feel.
At the peak of an experience, almost overwhelming.
Everything led up to that moment,
and if I could have stayed there, I would have.
It was too much and it was not enough.