Posts Tagged ‘ art ’

You called?

I hide behind an image

A picture

An Expression,

My attitude

A description

Of a push away attempt

To Cry for attention.

Wants Melt

I don’t take
Very well.

It’s either
You love me
Or you
Can go to hell.

Like the creator
Above me

And all
Ones left with
Are the conviction
In them selves…

All I wanted was her heart
She wore
like a belt.

Kill time
Her flesh
She gave to someone else.

The angels
Would Tend to cry
Her demons
Couldn’t stand the smell.

The blood
Of something Greater
Would more times than not
Fiercely Compel.

Creating a cycle
That would reflect
The flaming fires
Of hell.

Only to look back
And wish
For a stronger will
In my self.

where does IT lead you?


this work?

will iT


if i


Will iT completely


can i pick iT back up?

if by chance





what if iTs

all in my head

and i run out of luck

will reverse psychology

pick iT back up




i hope

but what if




i know what IT is


i myself

make my own



let IT flow

like wide windows and doors

fully open

dont ever






no time

to have to search for a key



and never mind who ever



A dash of Spanish Spice

Word choice
Plays IT humble
But she for damn sure
Knows that
She is very fine,
of her surroundings
Both off
And online,
Takes a moment
Out of her day
To simmer down
My obsessive chimes,
hoping she
didn’t do
Anything to tease
Since she’s been known to do that many a time,
I wanted to let her know
I wish she did
But I wasn’t that fortunate
Of a guy,
To be graced
With such misleadings
Our meeting
Only consisted of half a cigar and a drink with a lime,
maybe Its because
of my demeanor
Her hell on heels
And the fact that it doesn’t match my size,
Or because
Shes so articulate
And I’m not
that intellectual of a guy,
Either way
I dare not ask
Or even
Wonder why,
I enjoyed her company
Although moments of silence
May have made it seem
Like I was Un witty or some what shy,
I’ve learned to respect
A Queen
And be mindful
Of my replies,
which escapes me
At moments
But that only happens
So I plead
My dear
don’t be pushed away
By these ramblings of mine,
I do IT to give you praise
And boost your ego
So we can maybe
market and capitalize,
On the elegant artist Queen
And the fallen
Poet King who’s now her peasant
Now That duo would have to shine!
Searching for gimmicks
Because thats what
And reels in the line,
I’m just
Spit balling
We need to have
Another meeting of the minds,
I tilt my hat
Here’s looking at you kid
Miss home grown b
Aka Rich Spanish Spice


I do
So much
out of irony,
I forget
who I am
Because I ironed
all that was inside of me,
Having to
cater to others
Can be
soul drained tiring,
But I feel like
the character i play
is needed Because
to be a goof is either funny or inspiring..

The current vision
That has my attention
carries herself in such a way
It requires me to have to bite my lip,
With the unnatural reaction
To hesitate
And to have to
Second think,
Is this polite/ Is that offensive
Her frame is so chilling
It Leaves me In the pursuit
To perfect my form so I can fit,
Into a slimmer taller image
That would completely
Perfectly Match
And Compliment,
The Self conscious like no other
Female off the deep end
I stare into the mirror
sucking IT in and holding IT in
like a Hollywood Dream corset…

It’s been a minute Since
I’ve been In the presence of
Someone with some substance
That has an opinion and can politic,
I hope my ramblings
And random in bursts of silence
don’t push away or at all
seem any bit of counterfeit,
To The man
The myth (self described legend)
That gets loud with authority
When ever Passionate,
I’ve been told before
I can be too much
So I purposely
Tried to hold IT back a bit,
Which only creates More pressure
Allowing for other
Self destructing characteristics
To quickly show & slowly slip,
Now I must go off
And some how hide
Until I see the perfect lighting
From the horizon to take off the unnecessary wig

The Cha-Cha dancing Killer

I’ve seen
many a killer
Dead square
in the eyes,
Not just once
I’ve had the pleasure
Damn near
a couple of times,
However this time
It doesn’t appear
there’s going to be a crime,
Except for the displeasure
Of not making
this killer mine.
This killer is beautiful
And Elegantly Divine
One to count their steps
Yet a free spirit/A real spice of life.
I’ve been in of the presence
Of those in her profession
But never so stealth
In my own skin yet somehow its still a disguise.
We are both
aware of the other
But she’s the one
that’s easy On the eyes,
Her advantages
Are great
And I
Can only be mindful of my replies.
I quickly ponder on how
I can ball and chain/arrest this killer
But then I hit myself with the question why?
If God designed us to be
A repeat of our history
And I my self
Have been killed many a time.
Is IT destiny
For this to be the death of me
Since Every
Death Is but a way to redefine,
is this the blessing Of evolution
My reason and constitution
To bare knuckle brawl
And have her
as my inspiration
to finally become Alive!?!