My twin flame here I am
Do with me as you please
I surrender to you
Other women complain asking
you why do you love me more then them and you replied...
"why do I not love any of you like I love her?"
"If a blind woman and one who sees are together in darkness, they are the same.
Light comes, the one who sees will see light. The blind one
stays in darkness."
I am yours beloved I see your light my teacher my guru Sage twin flame my everything!
Caress me dance me oh sing me
Lay with me among the wild
flowered fields and bunny meadow prairy land
Spread you my wings I am
in full array near our nudist hill
My Adam your Eve
Or skip this previews
just take me now
Touch me taste me
Climbing becoming one we do our Macchu-picchu mountain each time we touch
many a mountain we shall climb
I won't ever let you down
Reciprocate my lover
I am your true love
I've been waiting for your scripted promises of old for decades to manifest.
Help me bridge this old gap bridge the chasm with
a leap of faith
Help me come out of this world of unreality our old prenuptial script lets jump into life
Let me spill my heart to you
Spill yours and play some nice music no more sad songs
Its sunny and beautiful outside
What a wonderful world
Loving the outdoors
Loving you loving me
Lay me down under the sunny
blue sky by day, let the pine tree aromas after the heavy rains to heighten and sharpen our senses
the evenings long.
Let's lay us both down
under the pomegranate trees examining their sensual hanging fruits that get us so high
Feed me your ripe fruits
I so hunger for you love.
Embrace me gently or grab me
download yourself into my hybrid vessel your inter galactic antivirus, lets wait untill dark falls for the stars to blanket us all night long I am your star seed
ENTER ME the evenings mornings long.
You raise me up like mercury on a thermometer pumping me
Earthquaking me
Fireworks crackling us
Volcanic booms exploding
with each pump fly me higher and higher raise me up, and up
You are the perfect lover
Protective husband amazing father
To this truth I surrender to you
Mate with me jump into Karijinis's hole fly us a honeymoon trip to Australia.
Protect me from the wild beast there here guide me make me into your own image God of love heart of gold like me!
King of hearts
here I am your Queen bee 2
glued together baby two
plus eight more!
There isn't a tree a rose a
Hilton hotel a Travelodge
A Laundry's restaurant
a garden a mountain
Paris Egypt Australia Africas starry sky
Not any place on Earth
Where I can't find you
You are omnipresent in my world even crossroads and street lights define you
You love like I do your eye moves are my own!
your smile is my own!
There isn't a Space Center rocket
Not any Star System
That won't remind me of you:
looking at me, waiting
Longing praying
for me to understand you.
You were the only one who
truly loved me just for me!
Everywhere I look I see you
I died amnesic in Greece and Veracruz there I wished I was never born
we all have our ways
of jumping off cliffs.
I fell into the abyss and I died again when Nasus answered phone in our home in Kemah
saying you two had a son!
I believed her lie
Lover of  life!
Giver of life
Love of my life
Lord G* heaven i missed you all my life
I sing and dance for you
Lord son of G omnipresent
miss you my E.T divine
I surender to you
do with me
as you please.
rdd/pjc I'm bba/asg
remember me as
something very
dear and precious
you promed me
my true love
I love you adore you forever yours in
mind heart body spirit soul.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By: Karijinbba
All rights reserved:
excerpts from my first memoir

Walking back onto the street around nine O’clock
Pizzerias, Clubs and white guys with dreadlocks
Moving like sea urchins with an urge to mock
Hey 2 for one at Roxy’s for black rubber *****

I’m carrying two bags of groceries; One with a pie
There are no stars in the city. Just the moon in the sky
I move lazily and tired as evening joggers pass by
“God I wish I was more active.” I say with a sigh.

I ascend the stairs because the **** elevator is broken
One flight. Two flight. ******* wood surely is oaken
2 minutes of climbing the obstacle that’s unspoken.
I suffer for being the Asian, the part-Korean token.

I reach my apartment, music playing through the wall
I feel worn out and about ready to fall
But I walk in and proceed, feeling anything but tall.
The time has come. I walk to the kitchen from the hall.

I live with three roommates: Sam, Dean an Owen.
Sam is shut in his room. He’s a DJ and I think Samoan
Dean is weird. Don’t ask about flagellated protozoan
And Owen is a reader and blogger. Just plain Owen.

I place the groceries on the counter, I stumble.
Owen is reading and I hear him mumble
“Did you say something?” I grumble
“Wrong Pie.” He says, his words fumble.

“What?” I don’t understand

   “Wrong pie.” Owen says again.
I point towards the pie on the table. “What, this?”
    “Yeah.” He says.
    “What’s wrong with it?”
    “Everything.”
    “Like what?”
    “Well, it’s the wrong pie.”
    “How?”
    “It’s apple.”
    “Yeah, so?”
    “But I thought you were going to get cherry?”
I shrug my shoulders, “Yeah but they were out.”
    “Where did you go?” Owen asked, but he knew.
    “Just that corner market.”
    “Well why the hell did you go there, you know they don’t have **** there.”
    “Does it matter?  I got most of the things.”
    “Yeah, most.  Not all.  You didn’t get the right pie.”
    “Does it matter?” I tell him. Owen closes his book.
    “I think so.”
    “At least I got a pie.  You guys said, ‘Hey man, make sure you get a pie’. You didn’t say get a ******* cherry pie!”
    I try to calm down, but the blasting of dubstep remixes warp my thinking process.  Owen leaves the kitchen and knocks on the doors. He tells them I’m back and that I ******* up the groceries.
“I did no such thing!” I yell, “You ***** think you told me what to get but you’ll all too into yourselves to ever know what the *******’re saying and you come off as ignorant over-privileged *******! Yeah Owen you’re so unique” I mock sarcastically, “Must be why you dress exactly the same as every other hipster here, going online and vlogging about the same **** a 12 year-old in suburban America would talk about and his ***** probably haven’t even dropped.”
    Owen’s eyes are wide, never seeing this side of me before. Sam and Dean open their doors to see all the commotion.
I walk back in to the kitchen and grab the pie.
    “Here *******!” I toss the pie as hard as I can so it hits the ceiling. The tin tray falls to the ground and the apple crusted pie is splattered, stuck to the ceiling like an IKEA fan made of butchered apples.
    I open the door.  “Dubstep is just edited noises of transformers having ***!”
I slam the door and leave, walking back downstairs and onto the street


Roommates ******* ****. I was tired of their **** and rules.
They used me for their homework, Working me like a mule
I’m barely able to pass my classes, let alone graduate from school
So trivial to help them just to earn my cool.

I flipped up my hood and rushed through the streets
I didn’t know where I was going, I didn’t care who I’d meet
A slice from Death Metal Pizza, a drink from Fat man Pete.
I need to let loose. Relax and take that invigorating leap.

I stumbled upon an old movie theater, playing classics, new and old
“I want tickets for all the shows.” To the box office I told.
I bought popcorn and milkduds. I think my chair had mold.
And watched as Al Pacino was out of jail; being paroled.

Carlito’s Way, then intermission
A glimmer of previews then Pulp Fiction.
Ezekiel 25:17 and blasts of omission
From Jules’ and Vincent’s handgun ammunition  

After the credits roll I get three hot dogs and a large soda
Next movie: The Evil Dead, enough to put me in a coma
AH ******* demons Killing like the cancer of lymphoma
Scaring me and making me spill my watered-down cola.

Next was the Monty Python to ease the chills
Ensuring talking fish, puking and hilarious thrills
I really enjoyed the collective animation stills
I was relieved from the films and I had my fills

Now I had a good place to come and let loose, relax and laugh
And I wouldn’t have to display my clustered, boiled wrath
To my ******* roommates. Maybe I’ll move out on their behalf
We’ll see how it plays out. I’ll write a “*******” graph.

But thanks to them I found a new way to survive
Which is better than the alternative; a desperate suicide
Watching movies late at night is better for me than to die
All ascertained from the incident of the wrong ******* pie.

“…the grandfather’s camera with the last pictures of the youngest Colorado theatre shooting victim was stolen and the family’s sorrow has compounded…”*

Veronica, why did you love Anne Hathaway
And why did you not go refill the popcorn,
Veronica? You ate it all during the previews
Though I warned your stomach would hurt.

Sweet Veronica, how did you know to hate Bane
And why did you not go to the bathroom,
My dear. The hand-dryer’s scream is loud
But it dries, unlike your wetting, red screech.

Veronica, why did you insist that you were old enough
For this fate? And how could I have agreed,
Cold Veronica. Pigtails were meant to be springy,
Not limp with blood, Pepsi, and regret.

The Bullets.
The Cape.
The damning shot
Would have slapped
Even Batman
Dead.

Young Veronica, why is the memory of you
And your innocent flesh fading fast,
To red Veronica? Wet too young and too alive
For the four-foot long coffin we buried.

Yesterday.
Cop lights.
My camera with
The last shots of you
“Stolen, sir.”

Wail, Veronica from the camera screen
In the hands of this thief, oh, convince him,
Stab, Veronica, with your pixilated smile
Until the guilt brings your smile home, to my eyes.

I will never forget the time I laid my head on your chest.

We had talked most of the night and my eyelids were getting heavy but I didn't want this to end.

If I fell asleep, it would be like none of this had happened.

We were talking and you kept running your hands through my hair looking at me like I was some sort of safe place and I've never felt my stomach flip so much.

And I looked at you, my ear against your heart feeling this steady beat, and I said

"It's like your heart is trying to burst out of your chest and into my head, which is so weird since it's all I think about".

It was the cheesiest thing that's ever slipped out from behind my teeth and rolled off my tongue and my face was on fire.

You just looked at me smiling, beaming at me, and you placed your hand on my heart and I could swear that it was going to grow wings and fly away and you said.

"You heart feels like it's trying to jump out of you and make place where my heart just left".

And if that wasn't the sweetest thing I've heard, I will fall over when I hear it.

You kissed my head and your eyes slipped closed and I knew this was coming to an end.

So I snuggled in closer, breathed you in one last time and devastation has never felt so heavy in my chest.

As my eyes shut, the sun rose and my alarm went off and you were gone. It's hard to feel your heart break first thing in the morning.

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People ask me all the time what my major is, what I’m going to do with my degree, as if that somehow defines me, somehow is a mold into which I should fit. As if being a teacher, a doctor, a lawyer, a mechanic, or a nurse makes me real; as if calling myself a statistician, a technician, a psychiatrist, an ophthalmologist, a zoologist, a gynecologist, an herbologist is any more definitive than calling me by name. Because somehow the letters AA, BA, MFA, LDS, EE, DD, or PHD are supposed to make me who I am.

I cannot be defined by the classes I took or the papers I wrote or the tests I failed. I am far more complex than that and I refuse to be satisfied with a label, so when you ask me what I’m doing in school, what I’m going to do afterward, and I tell you I’m gonna teach home economics, don’t look at me like I’ve gone off the deep end, like I’m wasting my brains and wasting my time and wasting my money, like I’m negating every feminist victory and reinforcing female stereotypes. Don’t look at me like I’m never gonna make a living, never gonna make anything of myself, because it’s my brains and my time and my money, my living and my self.

And how else can I be, how else can I fit my definition if I give in to the pressures of you, the pressures of him, the pressures of them, the pressures of it, and do what someone else thinks is right for me because they want me to be defined by what I do instead of who I am. I am a girl who snores when she’s sick and hiccups after she eats. I’m the girl who dated your youngest son and had a crush on your older brother. I’m the wild woman in love with her mountain man. I’m the girl that is sometimes eloquent and often awkward and twice as likely to hug you as shake your hand. I am the adult who eats peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with a tall glass of ice cold milk and the Floridian, who if offered a slice of pea-can pie would say “Don’t you mean pe-cahn?”

I’m the girl who loves to cook and cooks to love, and if you don’t know what I mean by that think of how a homemade meal makes you feel and then get back to me. Sometimes I’m the girl who crochets and is learning to knit, but I don’t know if I like it yet. I am a victim of the techie generation and I am helplessly addicted to facebook and youtube and myspace and stumble and twitter and flicker and all of that stupid stuff. I am a ****** who loves movies and has to get there early because it’s just not the same if I miss the previews and I’m the girl who loves to eat but hates to exercise and always complains about her flab.

I am the daughter of a sweet southern woman and a hard working ex-Marine and I am the sister to the brother who is almost taller than me and the granddaughter of the four most amazing grandparents you will ever have the chance to meet. I’m a family and consumer science major who loves biology and algebra and is fascinated with the manipulation of words and sometimes sings a song or two and used to play the flute and is practicing piano. I’m the girl who works in the weight room and turns on the light when you come to play racquetball in court number three and mops up those scuffs you left because you didn’t wear non-marking shoes. I’m the neighbor at your apartment who’s always sewing late at night and parks her car in your space.  

I’m a best friend, a sister from another mother, a daughter, a niece but not a nephew, one day an aunt, a roommate, a one-time lover, a student, sometimes a teacher, a cousin, an employee, a visitor, a customer, a someday-degreed-and-lettered member of society, but before that, during that, and after that, I am Jennifer Marie Cassell.

Many people I know find it funny that I know so much about music. They call me a musical savant at times; it doesn’t bother me at all. It is actually kind of true. The only reason I know so much is because when I was going through one of the darkest times in my life music is the only thing that brought me back. Music was my therapy and there was one band in particular that I credit to saving me.

That band is… The Wanted.

Yes I know they are not a band right now. This dark period was from 2010 through 2012. At the time The Wanted were still together making music.

One day I was watching random music videos on Youtube and I came across the song I’ll Be Your Strength by The Wanted. When I heard that song I started crying because it was exactly what I needed to hear at that time. I felt like for the first time in a long time that I wasn’t alone and I finally had someone tell it was going to be okay.

Yes I realize that they have no clue who I am and that it is just a song.
But no matter how old I get I will always credit that song and that band with bringing me out of the dark.

That song made me realize that I needed help, BAD! There was so much going on that I had become depressed. I also felt like I was all alone and had no one who I could count on as my rock.

My friends did try and help me as best as they could but it wasn’t enough.

I started listening to music a lot more. I would spend hours just surfing ITunes listening to 30 second previews of songs.

Slowly I started to feel better emotionally and that made me feel better physically as well.

Music has a hidden power and if you really listen to the lyrics it can be everything that you need to hear. Before that time I never really paid too much attention to what songs were saying. I would just put it on for background noise.

It has been two years since the darkness disappeared and music is still my therapy on a daily basis. I don’t go anywhere without my IPod. If I can’t figure something out I just put on one of my favorite musicians and I will always get the answer I need.

Now a days when I talk about The Wanted everyone around me just thinks I’m a severe fan girl. I just go with it because I don’t want to go into the real reason why I’m so devoted to them.

So I leave you with this quote that sums up exactly how I feel:
“He took his pain and turned it into something beautiful. Into something that people connect to. And that's what good music does. It speaks to you. It changes you.”
― Hannah Harrington

Hurricane:

Right, keep testing my waters.
I'm badder than Katrina,
my storm will sink your ******* "battle" ship in one hit.
The sea is cold and heartless and I'm just water.
Grab your umbrella it's gunna rain for days.

3 minutes:

Times slipping through my fingers. Life is just the previews, death is just the featured film. Circuit boards, my moods are electric. Flip the switch and complete the circuit. Like a newly changed light bulb, I am absorbing some of the darkness, that you failed to hide. Guess I'm just a bit manic and you're a bit sad.

Oh, Progress!  We found you at the back of
The movie theater, spidered around a boy
And we watched.  Progress, couldn’t you
Wait til the previews were over?
At least we could tell he was gentle.

Which reminds me of the story of the father
Who beat his son until the son
Could beat back, and after the son
Killed his father he went cross country
Beating everyone on the way
Beating the mailman, the bar back, the students
He kept on traveling until he knew he was
Unbeatable
And he traveled more and went on beating
When he met his dad in down in Santa Fe
They sat down to drinks and talked
About beatings and beatings
Then they kept traveling West.

Yes, Progress you were a ***** girl
Ignoring whatever went up on the screen.
18 seconds of mutilated armies and a Noble Charmer’s
Ascent to the throne.
17 seconds of painstaking laughter and a fat man.
19 seconds of a young man’s rise to success
His defeats, resilience, his ceaseless winking
And his moral fiscal triumph in the end.
16 seconds of naughty men in suits drinking highballs.

For a movie theater, the chandelier was immense.
Dangling, finely cut glass
Suspended over the audience, crystals tapering
Down to rows of translucent points.

Oh you no 7 x 7 isn't 49
And there ain't no way in the world
That your soul could possibly be dead
Cause you seeing those crashing waves
Yes you hear them and their loud
But somewhere deep inside that head
There is something else to be said
Last night I dissapeared from sister
And yes I lie when I say I don't miss her
I wrote her a note while sailin' away on a boat
Oh how I lie when I say I don't miss her
Whisper to the night and expect not an answer
Alone in a world spinning with disaster
Words that twirl eventually are wet with drool
Mary sister yes once used to be my master
A fortnight was alright until the birds started chirping
So early that I just couldn't stand it
I buried the hatchet in this heart long ago
And no the action was not at all outlandish
Passing through years that felt like seconds
As the sound of my sister still beckons
Lightning cracks as I bend my back
For a dollar in inevitable squalor
An open road for the hipster toads
Lures the weak ones with spirit like dreams
But these monsters that linger inside our heads
Our myth with apparition standing stiff
Link the chord and be bored with the music you heard before
Cause' the times that were a changing are now no more
Look forward to the quick and easy fix
A painting that costs one thousand and ten licks
Hang it for coffee, hang it for drink, hang it for the boyfriend who you believe can think
For that is what we are all really looking for
A masterpiece of sincerity a tip toein' with authenticity
Convinced I've felt the real thing
A shadow tells me that I am not here
No never, not at all
The back of a bedroom says that this room is full
My girl is at the end of the hall
Standing alone, no bone but mine
The reader grins afraid and victorious
All at the same time
Tell me what I did, what I said, who the gutter girl ****** in bed
Aftermath of publications punkish in their poors
Metal metaphors of anarchy wishing that they were similes in "the feel"
Goodnight to your grand opening selling that thing with the feathers
Why bother with something that I can't shoot in the eye, bake with a pie
Eat while the year is passing and the cars won't stop to bother
Hello, yes?, I'm here, are you? Yeah, why?, cause you wanted me to get here man!!!!!!
OH YEAH OH YEAH OH YEAH I PLUM FORGOT
Silly at night sinking softly in the morning but the nightlife ain't a morning cause a the stink of her breath
****** tosses a hat in the air, dies, another comes and takes his place
Continue
Black and blue with a ink blot test gone array
The starry night sky with a million cities burning
Minions of monsters move so fast madly that your own thoughts forget themselves and remember the hair of your first love that seemed like an ancient angelic mare
Not a possibility of the sea where there are no currents that can move the memories of transitory commerce that made another guy rich and another guy poor
Oh so poor
Oh so dead
Oh so filled with **** previews that make young men and women rich on clips of fat like a steak thrown away
Concrete pours on the heads of the righteous filled to the brim with ideals of theological fantastics that in the hemisphere spelling never did exists all the while the black lines, yet with yet, tell themselves secrets jingling bells with sapphire eyes all the while caught off guard with a thousand endless secrets still wishing they had millions
A mystery novel produced, never read, but remembered
Hallow in the heart, she said to me, hallow and crazy
Ok then toward the end the street said right or left and I chose up
A girl, mexican, wished one day she could believe that she was clean
A wet spot on the rug told me not to tug at his anxiety and his belief
Ok then, where do we go from here?
No, I don't tink' I know the answer
"Do you?" No. "Do you?" Nope. "Are you answering for me or are you answering for yourself?" I'm answering for the chalkboard cause' I like the sound of chalk on the thick green skin
Forget about it until the time comes for the girl behind you with the *******
Read a note from a girl and she said she loved me
Said I hated her and she still said she loved me
Were married now
Not a thing special when the dance makes up your soul
Forgetting that time ticks for the sure and the scared
OHHH what happiness comes from check good and cashed
Which preferment plan for the milk and the maid
The honk and the duck's blade?
Farming in the depths of dirt that reminds me of my young girth
A plentiful place where images flicker on the edge of sinister

Your eyes are the ocean
Your lashes are the waves
It’s a privilege to drown in them
And even live just for a day

Your collarbones are the trails
My lips want to wander forever
Your jaw line is the road
I would walk forever

Your lithe being
Is enough to take my breath away
Your pure heart
Is enough to let me stay

You are ethereal
You are otherworldly
Your beauty is abyssopelagic
You are perfect

My heart flutters when I see your previews
(I became an agastopian because of you)
And every after sunset and sunrise
I still fall in love with you

I can't be your first love
The one who's name waits on your tongue
To lash out and remind me
I am small within her shadow

I can't be your first love
With mocha skin
Red wine dripped lips
And the touch that may still creep into your dreams

I can't be the first love
You waited months to kiss
In a firework glow
(I wanted you more, God only knows)

I can't be the first love
Who captured you
With artemis' grace
And her goddess confidence
(Rather, I'm the stumbling deer in your headlights)

I can't be the one
Who coiled around you
Demanded princess treatments
No, I never fit right on a pedestal

I can't be her
Though I've wished I could
When the way you say her name
Holds more than just nostalgia

Now I know she's got the front row seats
Serial effect on her side
But don't put me in the nosebleeds
Cause the previews always come
Before the main event
Yes, I can't be your first love
But I'd love to be second

Whatya looking at me for?
that just makes me
wanna drink more...

..and his day begins with two full tins,
one for breakfast and one that'll last until it's done
then it's off to the shop for a bottle of ***

discounts in the spirits aisle
he'll be awhile as he ghosts
his way through
and at the checkout  
queue
he cannot resist so he takes the risk of one quick snifter.

Shift a year back when the man was on track and no sign yet of what was to be,

one more can and
another for tea
what will be will be
will he?

The Batman Movie (a review). The clues part was cool, but the end of it got boring. I liked that Batman kept a journal - I like the idea of men keeping journals, because, do men have many thoughts they share? Men’s thinking seems so ephemeral.

In this Batman resurrection, Pattinson’s Bruce Wayne & Batman are Kurt-Cobain-like emo and that seemed to work. Didn’t you just want to take your hand and get his hair out of his eyes? I think guys should have hair - I like hair on guys, not buzz cuts. I liked the muscle-car Batmobile.

I liked Zoey Kravitz, she was girl power, but not in a hot girl way, she had her own motivations, she wasn’t just in danger and served up to fuel Batman.

The movie is too long though. They need to bring back movie intermissions - I’d vote for that. As usual, I drank my giant slurpee and ate ½ my popcorn before the twenty minutes of previews were finished.

It’s a three hour movie. I had to *** so bad by the time the movie was ¾ over that I was grinding on my popcorn bucket to keep it in. I finally had to make a dash for the bathroom - I was afraid I’d miss the KISS scene. Argh!

Let’s talk about Robert Pattinson, the actor, and his arch from Twilight to Batman. Of course, doesn’t every vampire turn into a bat? (joke) but it’s always Pattinson being moody, being hot, figuring himself out and the introspective man - the broody man.

Are broody men ****? I don’t like broody men in real life - I feel that only one of us gets to be moody in a relationship - and it’s going to be me. Pattinson seems almost zany and cheeky in RL so the brood is his method act. I Like that Pattinson didn’t buff-up for the role - I think the buffed-up muscle-man as superhero perfection somehow relates to capitalism. Pattinson’s American accent was good.

What was missing from the movie was horniness. Batman didn’t seem HOT for Cat-girl - he just stood there for her to kiss. What’s boy-girl attraction if it’s not horniness? Where has the horniness gone in movies? Sexiness is missing from ALL the superhero movies - I guess the age demo is too young.

I give it three out of five stars

It is Thursday
when you go to the store
declaring your identity in the world again
You have always been hungry
now your stomach is too

The store is flooded
with white light, except the produce section
which has dim yellow lights
wood floors and black tables
where you squeeze each pear

              Remember that Sunday
               your bed was an island
               you thought about
               calling out from work,
               thought about the boy
               next to you, still holding
               your hand while he was sleeping

The green pears
only come in organic
cost a little more and
probably taste the same as

               Two weeks later he picks you up
                 to wander around that big apple like worms
                drinking coffee and talking about
                how useless is the penny
                how you both never need change

The brown pears
that are much cheaper
because they aren’t as bright
but they must be just as juicy as

               Drinking ***** infused with mint and cherry
                 in the theatre parking lot – you
                complain about missing the previews
                 laugh about how you would have
                 kissed through them anyway

Canned pears
that never rot
floating in their tin coffin
with their skin already peeled

               You take down every photo
                 t-shirt, sticker, love-letter
                 but not the driftwood
                 he found and gave to you
                during that first walk together

You don’t pick the green, brown, or
canned – deciding you want
any other fruit

WAKING UP, OPENING AND RUBBING THE SLEEP FROM MY EYES,

AND LOOK OVER TO MAKE SURE SHE’S STILL THERE AND YES YOU ARE TO MY SURPRISE.

THE MEMORIES START TO COME UP LIKE PREVIEWS OF A MOVIE,

YOU MOVE A LIL AND I COULD TELL THAT, MY LOVE IS STILL SLEEPY.

I REMEMBER THE FIRST DAY WE MET, SHE LOOK AT ME AND SMILED;

NOT KNOWING IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF MY DEMISE.

I TRIED TO PLAY IT COOL AND NOT LET HER KNOW THERE WAS SINGING IN MY HEART,

I GOT TO TALK TO HER, I GOT TO HEAR HER VOICE, I CAN’T LET THIS FEELING GO, I GOT DO THIS SMART.

SO I WALKED UP TO HER TRYING NOT TO MAKE MYSELF LOOK A FOOL.

PLAYED IT MY MIND, BUT I JUST ASK AND PLAYED IT COOL.

AND EVER SINCE, A SMILE HAS BEEN IMPLANTED,

MY WORLD HAS SLOWED DOWN, NOT SO FRANTIC.

THAT’S RIGHT, LOL, WE’RE CRUISING AT THE RIGHT PACE,

AND THE BETTER WE HAVE GOT TO KNOW EACH OTHER, IT FELT YOU WERE IN THE RIGHT PLACE.

I CAN’T BELIEVE GOD LET AN ANGEL DOWN FROM HEAVEN TO BE BY MY SIDE,

AND BECAUSE OF YOU I HAVE BECOME EVEN MORE HUMBLED AND FULL OF PRIDE.

NO EYELINER, LIPSTICK, OR BLUSH.

I KNOW I LOVE HER; THIS IS MORE THN SOME JR. HIGH CRUSH.

SO, TO COMPLETE THEMY FAMILY PUZZLE,

I STOP BY JEWELER AND A FLORIST FOR WHITE ROSES; “TWO DOZEN!”

SO I CALL YOU AND SAY, “HEY LOVE, HOW WAS YOUR DAY? I MUST SEE YOU.”

SHE SAYS, “HEY BABE, HEARING YOUR VOICE JUST MADE IT GREAT. SURE!”  SHE HAS NO CLUE.

I APPROACH HER WITH CONFIDENCE IN MY HEART AND MY STOMACH HAD BUTTERFLIES,

BUT I KNEW THIS IS THE MOMENT, SO I CROSS ALL THE T’S AND DOT ALL THE I’S

SO I KISSED HER AND GAVE HER THE ROSES;

SHE STILL DON’T KNOW I’M ABOUT TO PROPOSE.

EVERYTHING BECAME TOTALLY STILL AND STARS WERE SO BRIGHT,

IT WAS THE PERFECT SUMMER NIGHT.

AS I GET DOWN ON MY KNEE WITH TEARS FORMING IN MY EYES, “AS I LOOK UP TO YOU AND GOD, PLEASE SHARE MY LIFE?”

“PLEASE BE MY BETTER HALF, MY SIGNIFICANT OTHER………………………………………….MY WIFE.”

Stuck in the catacombs
   of surreality  
dragons breathing fire
      in my brain stem
scripted as previews'
     diabolical graffiti
of cancerous breath's
      gray radioactivation
written on the walls of
   mindless chatter's rancor

These verses filled the void;
Contributions from 'round the world;
From men and women, young and old;
Creating something out of nothing.
A prosaic mosaic, a collaboration,
From HP poets, a celebration.

A blank line
Awaits my thoughts
A blank line
It’s an invitation
A blank line
Patiently empty
A blank line
It calls on creativity
A blank line [sic writerunblocked]

To comment on this I cannot resist
The daily poem takes a new twist
At the top slot a poem that's not
A poem that doesn't exist [sic. Martin]

For the life of me -
I cannot think the words -
refilling blanks, and slots -
not coming across, absurd -
at least, not in, so many, words [sic Temporal Fugue]

Farts are nothing,
but previews for ****,
just like most
Movie
trailers
at
the
theatre. [sic Hasani]

Please fill in is the Story of My Life The Invisible lines the Unseen pain I walk among the crowds but I am not there all they see is a shell when the truth of myself is withdrawn deep inside lost between the invisible lines [sic James M. Vines]

When at 12 midnight
And my heart beats a certain pace
I finally turn off the lights
As tears stream down my face [sic jace]

the vacuum
Empty yourself of
From...
What u retain
What u contain
What u detain
What u abstain

Draw the lines of...
Your Boundary
Your territory
Your trajectory
Your sanctuary

You....
Draw your lines of action
Define your confinement
Create your vaccum

And now....
The love flows in
The bliss moves in
The happiness gushes in [Jugnu-the-firefly]

THESE underscores from a your keyboard--
Bored-as-hell I can see
The creative act has been forced-in
This outsourced work, taking our
Outsourced words, during work-hours [sic Sean Murray]

Lines
Lines Blank call
like void of creation to birth.
They grab my attention
luring poet mind
to commence firing away.
It fires in blasts of gratitude,
jarring empty spaces of thoughts
Phases that have no connections
until pen touches paper
or fingers touch keyboard.
Until I shout out to another writer
named Francie who inspired
to fill the void.[sic Star BG]

i would have described my frustrations
what i expect from u
but i decide to keep my lips shut
its not what it seems
sometimes my lips cant depict my problems........ [sic Gucco]

It's a new year, yet are we, new people
although many others have been extinguished,
my star still shines and twinkles (although not as valiantly)
and so does yours
and I pray that it may twinkle,
for the longest time indeed. [sic sincere humble cowardly Song]

Words can be over-rated,
its the blank page that often inspires,
images tumbling over themselves,
waiting to be scribed by word-squires. [sic Pagan Paul]

Like this goose of a poem I'm holdin'
The deliberate silence of this is golden

Now don't be cheap
and don't be crass

hold your words until the last
without donkey ears your still being an a... [sic Green Trees]

The symmetry of her eyes collapsed into the void............
....sixteen teardrops spilled on the morning sky............
............Colorless and absurd............................
............the sunrise misplaces past happiness............
Future was you [sic Kyte]

Your poem is good but mine is better
You should feel the poem, writing doesn't matter [sic Daman Singh]

I do nothing
Others do it for me [sic Dennis Faulk]

To all the confusing things that roam my head and heart that I cannot read what it’s actually telling me. [sic Sara]

The eyes sees genuineness that mind yearns
The heart feels what it needs to learn,
Yet all is but God's ultimate plan!
Life amidst it's hustsles goes on and on. [sic Saumya]

Broken Chains
Free me,break these chains of *******
Chains that bound and confine me to rules
Shackles that control me against my will
Fetters that make me submit to emotions
Irons that make me less humane,free me
Till all that's left are broken chains. [sic Abi]

Feelings so fierce as they swarm inside
No escape as theyey spin and spin
I try to open a door
To let them out
At last, the page is blank [sic Lin]

light for sure
shy of ardor
less is more
why try harder? [Ian Woods]

And thus the blankness left,
And the void was filled.

I prefer to drive home after drinking too much at 2 AM.
It's safer.
I'm convinced that all the cops are out after bars' happy hours.
I only know about that from my favorite bar, which is 9 to 11.
After 11, I think they prowl until one.
Come two, they are exhausted and bored.
But not like us.
The streets are like a blank canvas and we have all the paint,
And we are eager to make a mess of its purity.
I steer the wheel with my knee as I stretch my arms wide,
While one ends up hugging the headrest of your seat,
You look at me and say, "Pay attention to the road."
You mustn't know.
You mustn't know what it feels like to look at you
When you look at me
The way you do.
You mustn't.
You can't even begin to imagine all the things I see,
But I direct my gaze through my drunken haze to the expressway,
With the lights passing by us like previews before a movie,
And we try to comment on all of them,
Which ones we choose to see and not see,
But we're too excited about the feature presentation,
Because it's the first night that it feels like summer,
And I remember why I can't keep my mind off of you through all the seasons;
You have always been my summer scent,
The carefree afternoon, the elongated dusk, the crickets before bed,
The one that could keep me from feeling the cold that runs through my bones
And somehow make me whole and warm.
And I stop the car
And take you all in
And wait
For your eyes
To meet mine

Hardened to experience
Like gum beneath a chair,
I cannot explain
This lasting hunger for simple fictions.

Yet prompt me as you tried so long ago
To imitate the joker in the balcony
Who shouts “I’m gonna be sick!”
And launches a bucketful of mushroom soup
Over the railing,
To this day I forget my only line.  
The gestures, too.  
And the sound effects?  
The mind’s ear can’t hear them anymore,
Let alone vibrate to them in Sensurround.

But I’m still slouching down in familiar dark,
Feet stuck to the floor, waiting for the previews to end,
Hoping that a moving picture conjures
Something whose absence has become
So powerful that I begin to think
It’s really the presence of something else.

The aroma of our time together
So many years ago lingers
Like the faint odor of mushroom soup.

The film rolls
Dim light
Flooding empty seats
Casting long shadows
Revealing one lost soul
The previews flicker by
Flashes of the future
Memories of the past
Merged together
Life
Family trips
First times
Graduation
Starting a new life
Taking knowledge learned
Time passes by
The movie rolls on
Never to end
The reel growing
With every second
Until the day
Our hearts stop

I, buy the tickets
We, enter together

You, find the seats
Us, alone together

The previews start
I hold your hand

The hero finds his girl.
You hold me closer

The hero falls
My lips to yours

He, the hero, rises
She, the girl, squeezes my hand
I, smile
Happy in the dark

If only till the lights come on

sitting before the curtain of my heart,
i feel the ripples of what some might call fear
for what is about to unveil.
behind me sits an audience that can only  be described
as a sea of songs long since embedded in my brain,
waves of past lovers and lies and the
silhouette of a solitary sickness.
then suddenly, the lights go dim
and i am overcome by the previews
of the present moment.
caught between the sea behind me
and the curtain in front of me,
is all that i am
all that i love
and all that i have yet
to be.

Walking through the door at night
Awaits a quiet that I've grown tired of
Some days I hope for it to move out
Yet it sits in darkness awaiting my arrival

As I settle in from a long day at work
Candles are lit to keep me company
Pull up a chair to my window
Watch scenarios play out before my eyes

These are the sneak previews of what is to come
Life becoming lonelier as I approach golden years
A painful silence will become my roommate
Such a cruelty sentenced to us with lonely hearts

There once was a time when I loved to be in the sight of a lens.
Singing, sharing my humor, or sharing moments of my life through the recorded glances..
That are but windows into my less intimate picture and the role that I play in this movie called "Life."
The lessons I had learned, as I watched other's visions that they had created of the previews of the movies that is their "Life's Movie Masterpiece"
I experience a loss of interest due to the over-acting and overly complex and expensive sets in which they tried way too hard to earn another soul to climb with them
up to the top of their journey's ladder.
Almost the most beautiful views, of movies I have stayed and enjoyed different life views, were the children.
They laughed, they were free, and it was a simple set.
Them, me, an enjoyable moment, and no worries or cares about costumes or items.
The imagination to create "something out of what appears to be another or nothing, " inspired me
It taught me to "act within my true inner, younger,  imaginative, and loving nature"
as imagination is the "secret flavor" and the "simple actor's Prop"
Just one  hand grabbing mine just to share "who they are and wish to be"
"Learning who I am as a role in their show and future contract to innocence and bright life's creativity.."
Children worry not about fame, money, war, lust, and or power.
They just are actors like comedians or drama players playing in a full length improve comedy. Even drama.
Such theatres, I then could view "filled to the brim.."
As patrons respected the whimsical and sweet times of youth rather than the other movies of heartbreak, loss, or Growing Pains and Their Traumas.