Tuesday, October 19, 2010

DiScO BalL

The glimpse in a glance, we walked, talked and danced.
The shiny tiny mirrored ball rang and sang our song.

I love you for the one thing you do.
Be it smiling or sadness, laughter or tears,
joy or devastation, tireless happy thoughts
or dark empty voids, I still love you
because I saw an authentic version
of my human being in you. 

The two of us in one move, one groove,
swinging to and fro, back and forth
like a disco ball glowing with rays of light
reaching and stretching out to four walls
and the beloved aren’t constrained to any at all.  

Our disturbed souls wander like flashing
strobe lights echoing in the mind
slow and fast displays of night and day.
Its an illusionary absence of gray
a pleasant substitution of a flash freeze
mingling minds meet in sweet melee.

A dull bulb lays underground, in sound coming back around.
Glitter  in daylight rests in a giggle, grin, or delicate grace.
Heartbeats go beyond range, smiling, waving bodies move like mixing beacons of sight readily gaining momentum for flight in obscure delight.  
It’s the torch in a tunnel of blithe.

The one of sum is the add one for some.
Conscious streaming in video dreaming.
Black light in incandescent chromatography
with ultraviolet sonic scenes illuminating and directing
sensations of unseen creations.
Noir macrocosms breathe life. 

Visual maps of mental mass in mind
virtual visions of vivid encrypted
messaging and massaging of our existence
the glade galaxies move to guide
gifts gathering for global gratitude of good-nights.
The evening turns to an aurora of sunshine.

Melodious harmony of 
Moving beats in bravo, alpha, delta sonnets
the signs of signature in single minutes.  
Swim in showering senses of centered stages
of destiny and epiphanies of earthly times.  
Drum the key another song.

Slowly build the verse and vibrations
of exquisite emotions in three, two, one.  
I Love You is One Four Three
building numbers is not significantly
like the verve in the pheromone of emotions
conducts warm attachment to the blaze of discs.

The heart raves waves of trace particles
familiar matters of dust, rising and falling in
the softness of touch, flow and motility
in the sparkle of collision and continence
reliance rests in the return of desired sight
beginning with one like.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Fight Falsified Fright

How’d she acquire so many lies? From the fib of a glib and stiff tongue she lied in dangerous and insidious entanglement.  It traced the treason that developed over time.  
An unspoken demolitionist of dauntlessness and self loathing fringed and frayed the ruins of her mask that ran across her hardened face.  

Tears couldn’t cascade or descend downwards but just slid sideways as life’s parameters swayed unbalanced like a teeter totter or like flimflam across her dubiousness nature.  

 The nub in her vascular organ bordered the masculine as she tempted to throw fate in a face or flip away the disgrace.  The spurn of spirits twisted as she spit the soured, sickly bittersweet smack from her lips. 

The deception falsified by her remaining subtle and semi supple lippy mouth.  Reposte shot arrows like spurts of needles sharply attuned to her tongue.  

Her insolence insisted on the ignorant to infer her arrogance as an audit of her prior abominations.  Although, she insists atrocities lie at the mass infringement of her mortal sin.   
She spoke the truth as reposed malfeasance met with dereliction.  She cursed her values of secured silence broken in the sting of scandal.  

Trespass on the sorrowed morals of sanctimonious subterfuge, she sits in selfishness.
The shortcomings of shameful misrepresentations resulting in ridicule and remorseful reproach or perhaps 

the pills of apathy sent numerous neurons and synapses to stifle and stiffen like the unsound heart.  

The unskilled surgeon scrapped the shell of her soul for any remaining remnants of loquaciousness.  Her innocuous integrity was the thin skin she lived in.  Laying to find a solution out of dire institutions and reinstated evolution she held on to her unregistered traits.  

She reinstated misconstrued calculations rather than reiterating whines, whimpering tries or falsified information.  

Burdened by broken synthetic summons, she realigned with the celestial concepts of copious commiseration and compassion from the cruelties of crass deception.  

She drips tears of duplicity as she spoke not while she fell for the heart of man.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Assets of Attraction

She’d been living
        in a man’s dialect
as her didactic mortal self
      designed her own deliverance.  
        The femme fatal fashioned
            the flutter of freedom
  of all humans to tailor
her suited spirit in armour.  
Unlike men with daggers,
  she lacks menagerie.  
                 These fine lines aren’t blurred
    or jarred but rather bold in rhetoric.

She subtly sounds in song
        to sway the moon in dance.  
The elegance does not replicate 
in the masculine but in feminist domain.  
The power of worth determined by
her contours in silhouette and symmetry.  
   She echos refinement and finesse
 steadily consummate in poised form
  of progressive and primitive praise.  
    Her head held flattery in proportion to redress.  
Her beauty balanced in rare and unique formulas,
  flexible for liberty and justice for all.  
She’s a statue of duty.

Tuesday, October 5, 2010

The Atmospheric Rain

Are we just statistical notions, 
like fluid appearing in the eyes 
as a result of emotion?
They are tried, dried and mortified.
Lost within a realm of reclamation hides within. 
The babble of babies bawling grim cries.
Signals of distress stretch slight across the sky.
Blood runs thin in the thickness of ebony nights.
Dawn encroaches with morning dew and light.
The body and spirit does not lie. 
 While misery smothers the sum and sun
it is merely a fraction of our existence.
It’s a common mistake that generates hate.
It holds a spirit hostage and imprisoned.
How and what we do determines our worth.
Is it just watery secretions
or the secret of Divine consolation?
Hope is sporadic like lightnings evasive delight.
Faith shattered upon thunderous dusk and mustiness.
The smallest notions hides behind possible future flight.
The bone dried dead can’t shed a tearful sigh. 
Pathetic, sniveling and insipid delineation of coveted wickedness.
The sorrowful merely mirror the grotesque simulation of sin.  
Ravaged bodies laid down by degeneration.
Do not forget the Devil never cried.
Worry when the aqueducts of ardor
dry and evaporate like false mother’s milk.
For if lessons in shame, distrust and persecution
doesn’t move a person to darkness to retrieve unseen light
perhaps justice is reserved, as the soul couldn't learn to deserve better. 

The purpose sits in between ingenuity and progress
to rectifying misdeeds and alleviation of another’s demise.
The trip on the road rides on the trifle or triumphant.
The downpour spits sheets of torrential flurry.
Resolution rests in spatial spurts of stillness. 
Molecules of the universe elevates and accumulates in time.
Visions of beauty bring attribution and substance to solid minds.
The sign of times intermit with the attitude of the blind.
Mice in a maze or planetary comrades in space
either appraisal dilutes sovereignty from humankind.  
The privacy of precipitation or perception doesn’t reign alone
the brainstorms and distillation ebbs on cerebral and celestial homes.
The condensation is not to crest in condescension
of cruel, crass, criss-cross of conscious civility.
Cloudless blue skies and conspicious seas clarifies the tides. 
The droplets from eyes cleanses dirt from drift
as the sparkle of shared slices of saline silence the storm
revealing our own prisms of light reticent like rainbows in the sky.
Pearls, dew, beads and droplets marks mass higher than particles of dust.
Illustrious and resplendent tears are born from heaven.