I write to escape reality
Or does reality nudge me to write?
I write to transform emotions into poems
Or do poetic vibes transform me into emotions?
I write to make sense of it all
Or does sense make me write?
I write to be one with the vibes
No “or”, I just do….
Love is raw, deep and full of
Love at the bottom of the barrel is raw
It is beauty and the beast mixed into one
It is heaven and hell at the same time
Love is not butterflies in your stomach
it is not googly eyes on your mate
it is not apple and spice and everything nice!
Love at the bottom of the barrel is deep
it is a mix of good with the bad
it is calm with a touch of intense
Love is not an act of neediness
it is not jealousy and fear
it is not neediness or helplessness
Love at the bottom of the barrel are aspirations
it is a pen to paper of goals
it is a cloud full of dreams
Love is not what you think of love
Love is a 24-hour job you hate to love
Love is raw, deep and full of
He is the apple to my sauce
the chocolate to my milk
the cheese to the crackers
He is the cracks from the quake
the flood from the rainfall
the lightning from the storm
He is the crazy in my sanity
The sanity to my crazy
the sanity in our craze
My plate would be
bare without my
My cup would be
empty without my
wine and dine
We would be obsolete
without honey and bee’s
will you please…
If I break like my piece of toast,
please tell me I was as good
as peanut butter and jelly…..
Ravishing from head to toe. Her mind jumbled with a million thoughts attempting to formulate one word. One thought. One idea to express the monstrosity composed of her mind.
A delicate flower, full of life and laughter. Her laughter allures an audience of well-formed men and women oblivious of her chaotic mind.
Wine in hand, fire stick in another, whispering sweet nothings to supposed lovers. Lovers enticed with her fired soul. Burning flesh as they osculate each whisper of her misery.
Mad for classical air, she refrains from cowering to his glow. Under the blinking stars, she yearns to rejoice in conscious oblivion. Aware of the needed solitude, he retreats from her disarrayed mind.
The delicate flower blooms among her own isolation. Descended deeper into her delicate realm. She continues to walk her ravishing life as onlookers admire her composure unaware of the obscurity of her own mind.
Beyond her world lies one mind. One soul. One heart. One flower. Her world. Desolate of consciousness. Death will take her life. Chaos will feed into hypocrisy. She is simply a conscious flower living among weeds.
Weeds of our world.
As to her is to you. As with you is with her. Crumbles of cutter.
Catch the jumbles if you can.
Did you know each and every one of you is living your own conscious dream?
Our lives are a big dream.
You are a dream.
I am a dream.
Dreams are conscious decisions and aspirations.
Awakened minds = A Dreamer
A Dreamer = An Artists
As an Artists you create your lifestyle, your career and hobbies. Artists have endless possibilities!
There is never a “perfect” art piece, but to the eye of the beholder, your Art may be the most beautiful piece they’ve ever seen.
Each mind has its own designs. Each design is what makes our beautiful world.
Create a beautiful Art Piece! Mistakes can be beautiful. Perfection may not. Allow your senses to……
Breath in & Let out
🌱 BEAUTIFUL ART 🌱