First I thought history was repeating itself
Sho obviously it was me who's lesson had to be learned..

As I criticize myself, old habits resurface
Insecurities return...

History Repeats Itself!

And with that realization.. I started doubting my self worth

Which led to me straight back to that
One thing
Very one thing...

That makes me
     QUINCH!

Let this kiss be a lasting one
One that burns for eternity
As hot as the brightest sun
The end of the quest for certainty
.
Let our bodies touch
Our entanglement melts into one existence
all time stops for such
a lovers trance
.
Let your pleasure be my pleasure
A fire that cant be tamed
Lifes treasure
The fires flame
.
Let me be your only desire
A special place in your heart
The only one to quinch your fire
and never to part.

One body is a title
Two bodies are more then a title
Iv researched and found
Out that everything is a title
The air that strokes down your hair well if you have some hair its titled the wind,the ground that we walk on is titled the ground,the fresh aroma that you wake up to in the morning that doesn't Quinch you're thirst but make you're body temperature to slowly inflate with heat its called Coffee

Everything has its own title and its own purpose so
WHATS YOUR TITLE..?
WHATS YOUR PURPOSE IN LIFE..?

Everybody seem to have miss placed their ghost on this question would they ever find it..?

When problems burst
From the lemon heart,
Acids turn, stomachs crunch.
Sparkles form on lazy eyes,
Lips will curl on the lower side.
And with a hug you will sob,
Then you will try to hold your heart,
But it's inside, you might die.
So you just knock.. But no one comes.

Some will want your lemon heart,
Expose the truth, add some spice.
So you'll just nod and start to see,
That no one asked, if you're alright.

Your heart will quinch, and you shall write
An art like this that:       "no one asked"
But in the end, you will lie
Cause you will try to be alright.

I wish to slice your lemon hearts,
To sip the part, that **" Life is sad "

You have never loved a woman like me for
You have never met a woman like me .

I have consumed you entirely . The love you have for me wrecks from within your aura .

The planque of your tongue still quivers for me and nothing will ever quinch that thirst .

Every woman after me is a bland taste of dirt to you . Yet u still choose to look through the dirt even after you struck gold .

Z.h

Freedom is what you quinch for
Run with the sun
Don't stop, keep going, don't look back
Escape from the city
Follow the road you see in your dreams
Let everything come into action
Run before you are to caught up in one moment
There's plenty more to see

Tell him he will be loved O elements of life..
O fire tell him he burns in my heart like the eternal light.
O air tell him i will feel his presence even when my eyes don’t se him.
O water tell him that you will never be able to quinch the thirst of his love.
O earth tell him i will come to him one day  mixed with your bits.
O space tell him i will always hold him in your intangible embrace.
O dear elements of life show my beloved my love, for he deserves to know.

love
is a
full glass of
vintage wine
that quinch
my thirsty
heart again
time after time

I need chocolate moose,
And some yummy soups,
So I can quinch my thirst,
Not by drinking though,
Just eating food.

(Justice of love and hate)

Blindfolded,
You do not judge, by sight
Embolden,
By neither darkness, nor light

Balanced,
Your scales of wants, and need
Challenged,
To determine which, to feed

Justice,
Your sword pierces, the hardest of hearts
Mercy,
Compassion awarded, to birth new starts

Blindfolded,
You condemn what you, do not see
Scolded,
You point your ignorant fingers, carelessly

Unstable,
You overbear the scales from, love to greed
Maniacle,
Upon your slain and ruined, is what you feed

Vicious,
You seek to devour, the weakest first
Malevolent,
The blood of innocents can't quinch, your thirst

You even though I chased and fought any number of your demons
I was still denied that which I held most dear and prized more than
The materialistic manifestations of it in the forms gifts
Even the sweet taste of your essence and entrance into the venue you hold most sacred
Couldn't compare to that of your true affection something so pure that it could be given physical form so easily if I were to dive inside so unprotected
But to much I digress it was not my own
The journey for it grew tired
All though I put every ounce of my being in this
Emotion I call the drugs of all drugs
I am left with nothing the affection I once had for this queen has faded the oasis of love barren for an eternity
But now she tries to refill or re quinch this long forgotten thirst but now it has faded
Been petrified and wiped off the face of the earth so now she longs for something she denied herself of a long time ago and in doing that she deprived her self of the one thing she searched for all her life .this fruit she deprived of nutrients has withered. Now a seed grows waiting for another's to help it blossom in to what it had always was seen to be ...magnificently put that potency and hypnotic form of drug we call love

My heart keeps floating east
to the place of my birth
along the brown rushing waters
of the awesome Mississippi
the vast Atchafalaya basin
where the boys  
of fishermen and hunters
become men.
Oaks drip with moss
cypress trees grow out of swamps
and exude a mystic charm
that pierces your mood
and captures your fancy.
La Nouvelle-Orleans
born in centuries past
gateway to a new life
for my forefathers
who crossed oceans from France
made families for the generations
and planted their culture
amidst the rich foliage
and damp environs
of this magnificent mysterious place.
Yes, I yearn to cross the Sabine
make my way to Breaux Bridge
and other Evangeline towns
eat crawfish etoufee
by the Bayou Teche
speak my Texanized accent
to my Cajun cousins
who tell their stories
with a hint of French
and laugh in a universal language.
Soon I hope to make the trek
to quinch the yearning of my heart
hug my cousins
breathe the poem of my life
and the moist fragrant Louisiana air.

Observing the skies
Wisdom becomes wise
I began to think
Heaven comes to mind
The thought of prayer
Looking for a blessing
When it comes being devoted
Committed spirit in my heart
Determined
A moment of praise
When understanding seems so far
Knowledge rushes in being expelled
Assurance sometimes becomes a lack
Faith is strengthened at every length
The thought of being a creation
The mold of true self built just right
Purpose having an assignment
The thought of a refreshing fountain
Clear waters that quinch my thirst
I am hungry
Solid ground of plenty
In a matter of thinking beyond
Heaven’s permission living among and embrace in the days to follow.