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The best things in life are the simplest things in life. The warmth of the sun through my window. The early morning breeze through my hair. The first sight of buds on a tree. The touch of my skin against yours. The feeling of holding your hand. The luxury of I have of laying in your bed… over, and over again. Knowing your love is available, for free, without ask, and made especially for me.
I bought a piece of damaged art.  Art so complex and abstract, with dark colours and rough textures, broken faces and trapped doors. What in past may have been innocent, has now become jaded, corrupted by ideas and devoured by hungry rage.  The tunnel of fate has flushed this paintings’ nature, seduced the purity of its essence.  A master piece has been morphed.  The price has gone up.  The wall space needed for this work of art would be massive, secure, and bullet proof.  The nails will dig deep, this piece will sooner or later feel heavy.

But the pride of showing off this commitment is precious.  It’s tempting and full of promise.  A piece so desirable and unique, others wonder how it was hung so high.  Like a crystal brick in the wall, so rare and contagious, persuasive and mysterious. Perhaps I fell in love with this foggy picture, I adjusted the lens of my perception - clarity now being a boring adventure.

So what stops me from taking this heavy, disturbing painting down?  Do I fear the ladder, panic I will drop this estranged beauty on the ground?  Maybe I enjoy viewing it from such a distance, I neglect what it really would look like up close.  I detach myself from its reality, only to live on in our own anxious dream.  For what exists in this fantasy, is not eternally destructive, it’s illusory and… incredible.

I know the day will come.  The day my walls wear thin.  The nails will get rusty and break, the painting will slip and surrender, and I will catch it… only to realize how much smaller and light it really is.  How beautifully innocent it has come to be.  Colours will be vivid, broken faces turning into blameless smiles, and trapped doors now unlocked.  With its temper diminished and bliss established, it will look vulnerable and foolish, not suitable for my passion craving mind. And I will take this small, uninteresting painting, and throw it away.

And look for a new damaged one to hang on my wall.  

And look for a new person to fix.
 Aug 2015 Jonny Angel
wordvango
the right way to say s
I love me s
I guess s it all
the way the tone
of voice s
end s
Her diamonds
She weareth as eye's;
Reflecteth, in the moonlight's sky.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©あある じぇえん
Harana means the act of wooing, or serenading a him or her.
Balintataw is the pupil of the eye , both Filipino tongue.....
i

Aghast I was in, then an alien nonnative of this planet aroseth,
Her precious stones pierced me, nonjudgementally, I cried;
I bawled, as tis not in a bad way, but because her beautiful glimpse, her standing there, she saved me from the darkly stench.

ii

The kilig she giveth me is overwhelming, Kalinaw is delivering
I shalt Indak with her on the Hill's of her land, an Oriental band;
A queen, and one man, that man me, aforetime's I was lonesome
Tis now I am happy, she maketh mine wing's, flappeth so highly.

iii

She cometh at perfect timing, she assuage's mine hand's hole's,
She taketh the rivet's out from mine feet, she inspires me with her coming goals, mine sensation for her as a backarapper
Cracking to the fireworks glitz, her head on mine shoulder, lip's.


©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©あある じぇえん
Kilig means( butterfly's in ones stomach) Filipino tongue
Kalinaw means serenity or tranquility I'm Filipino tongue
Indak- means to dance in time with the music-filipino tongue
Backarapper in old tongue means like a firework display or show
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