The country road like  poet’s fancies unravels
Through the   giant hanky- sized paddy fields
And  the dream  sized ponds
Dotting  the landscape
in perfect  squires and riots of skewed and regular shapes
The green spread and the muddy beds, spell the village beauty.

Parrot green fields
And  stark blue skies  look at each other
In perfect silence, like mother and babe
And a   great , grey house  exposing its ragged bricks,
Bared like  the buck tooth of the old
Provokes a  village memory

Past picking itself slowy and ambling into the future
Its wooden columns
stand like mute  exclamation marks!
or so it may  look to me.
Flies  the  skidding scaly tarred  snake  
Fast and spreading like the traveler travelling on it.

Patchy it looks, now;  
And  full like the  misery  of the scorned lover
Eager like  the  maiden speech of a parlimentarian  
The country road, runs  fluid like a stream after the rains.
As the rustle of the engine   trips and   falls
into the  divine  air.

A  roaming peacock calling adds  charm to the great whole  fare
A winged beauty, struts across
Nudged by the sputtering , speeding me.
The exotic avian   attains the hedges galore
With its   metal blue  feathery strangeness blurred in my glancing eye
A species rare, found only in ornithologists diary.

A  clamour in the  air
And the   school boys emerge in buddy pairs
Beneath the  village banyan
That  let loose its tresses to dry like a country maid.
I see, a promising glint in their eyes
The  will make themselves of  king and ministers of the modern days


The  sonority of ringing bell  
clubs the cacophony of school boys  in into two dead parts.
They return to their classes, sanctified by the silence,
And open their minds to the feminine vocie.
A Glorious moment ,
As the  morn of wisdom is born

Rich are the sightings of poor country side
And many are the mappings on the way,
My sensibilities recouped,
I drove back
not spent
But profound.


sound.

i have a hidden tallent of my life a singer or the voice that can touch your hearts.
my mind thinks up a storm that comes to a plan on a friday afternoon.
my voice can only be heard if your heart has the courrage to follow what you want the most.
my voice is what my stories come to life.
cause my true love came and gave me hope to write this line.
my mind thinks first for what salllom words i could think to say to you to touch your heart deep.
i know i will proable be alone with my thoughts.
but ever word ever said threw my voice i hope it made you go mad with crazy love.
night and day come and go but i will never let my smooth gental words leave me.
that all i got when i feel abandoned.

my hidden voice can make your anger go leaving your life with peace.


my hidden talent with my voice can make words stories poems love notes and creat or life memories.

my hidden voice can only be heard for the traped broken lies.
my hidden voice can lift you off your feet when thinks start getting bad.

my hidden voice can heal your soul if your willing to listen to me while i start to write my entire life stories.

you will never be alon if your voice meets me down the slop.


my hidden voice can do many things but will never be harsh or angery just a loving kind blank page you should start writing to fin  me and you with our true love stories

she came from a broken home, wasn't to ambitious
and the fact she was loose was surreptitious
she did this to make up for what her childhood lacked
so she picked dudes up and droped them quick like jacks
so it wasn't surprising that after a while
her abdomen became an embryo's domicile
she didn't want it but her parents weren't pro-choice
she might as well have had strep throat, had no vocie
her days were then filled with insults down right explict
all this for just one unsurpervised visit
after nine months of the tribulations of misogyny
it was time to bring forth her progeny
after a few ardous hours she gave birth
to a girl which suprisingly filled her with mirth
she  relized she had something to live for
and she promised to give her
everything she need and to not let anything encumber
her daughter's success as she watched her slumber
she named her rose because she if it took till the world's doom
she would nuture this child untill she finally blooms

There are demons among us, angels in disguse..
We dont know the difference, they all came from the sky..
but we all walk on earth, heads up in the clouds...
Would you know his vocie, if he was screaming out loud...
Or do we think he's paper, materialistic dreams...
money making favors, thats just what it seems...
These demon playing angels, catch you with there schemes...
Tell You that happiness, is found in all these things..
Gravitate to the lavish life, cuz that weights stronger....
and let go of the free fall, into a deeper hunger...
So we over eat, indulge, and over treat...
Not carring bout the brother you left hungry on the street..
forget about his need...
He waisted his own life,we live a different type of greed...
Cuz we only care about ourselves...
Responsiblity,hahaha put my kids up on the shelves...
Thats what my father did....
So I'll follow in his foots steps,not the ones mommy lived...
Thats alright we say,thats alight...
A way for you to cope,with the things that wasn't right...
The lavish livng life, the one this money gave...
The one I'll never get, but ill keep tryin to the grave...
Wheres the mind set,where is the heart in that...
Do you ever remember your mission, it wasn't about that...
You were sent to save the world..
all my boys and girls...
But if money is all you breathe, then you'll never believe...
And The whole world is lost in your greed...

He was a big dreamer he knew he can be and do much more. He was tired of taking a back seat to people. He was good and confident too many knocked him. Made his confidence out to be cocky. He told the truth and for years doing what he loved. He felt like coming out of his shell that he loved hiding in but he didn't want to be there anymore. He had put his life on hold waiting for that moment but that's not how it works. He knew he would have to go out take risks make that moment happen. It circled and bounced around in the back of his mind. He read books from inspiration, he stepped up failed but he always told himself be the best even if he came up short. For years he did what he loved despite set back. He loved jujitsu nurturing and injury fear of getting hurt. He worked at his job at the bottom of the pole but he had experience no one seen or cared for because no one liked change stayed the same.
He loved to perform stand up but he didn't have an audience that understood him. He feared change as well always asking "what if" when he thought it "should be" he loved to write it gave him a vocie gave him say he felt in control he always went along but before he was a rebel someone who took risks and felt he had nothing to lose and everything to gain. He got older others told him never settle or get comfortable. It never made sense to him but took those words to thought. He wanted to break the cycle get out of the same routine. He was broke before and never wanted to be that way again. He didn't care for his job but did like the pay. He was thankful to be working always compromised things are never in his favor. He did so much on the down low because it was his way of preparing and prepping himself. He's been working on it for years even though he's not doing anything with it. He had supporters and doubters that made him want it more tired of everyone's way he just wanted to do things his way for once.