Questions of Love

Why is it you don’t just speak of what’s on your mind?, Can’t you see the further we drift the greater the rift creates a bigger divide… What is it you see or have as expectations of me?, where we

Loves lobes

Speak to me of love that hasn’t been steeped in mumpsimus, a love that dwells constantly in the narrative of evolution…  Speak to me as though i were a stranger that gives you uncomfortable ease… Show me the delectable demure

/ In My Own Words

Loves lobes

Speak to me of love that hasn’t been steeped in mumpsimus, a love that dwells constantly in the narrative of evolution…  Speak to me as though i were a stranger that gives you uncomfortable ease… Show me the delectable demure

/ 04/07/2013 / One comment

Intuitive Relations

The lingering desire to aspire to our long-time inspired

Let us entertain the discord along the path

Journeying along mystic melodies to hit the right chord…

Space: Limbo

  It’s okay to be in limbo. Exploring the triumphs and failures… which left you aghast! Pioneering and probing the consciousness of roles. The palmed out fates and destinies with uncertain retribution Sipping the inexcusable misfortunes of “sliding doors” situations

Love poem?

  This is not a love Poem. Let me approach you back to front. To oppose the conventional We cremated now we call, a finished relationship broken and mauled. Eloquence in the deceit left me paging desire. Truth being the

….Shhh

Are you even listening…? It’s sort of hard not to, when that’s all I am prone to. On my soul I have sown her voodoo in hues of red, orange and blue, it’s an unrequited sin.. burnin I felt moments

DIsfunktional ME!?

  I am here…     Caught up in a world of paradoxical musings It wanes on the lack of true feelings I’m unhappy with glee and shamed with wit   Drowning my sorrows in a world of happy renderings

Sometimes…

Sometimes Its me, Sometimes Its you, Sometimes its filleting a floundered folly… only hoping one day you don’t wither away to you whats jolly   When I treated you like the only one who existed to me, what did you do?

So i practice restraint…

  Don’t speak… I know It starts as a song you know the intro to only then it switches to an unfamiliar tempo and you lose yourself to bask in the uncertainty of its tune Like the time you asked

Tonight, I

When thinking of my past, I feel troubles reoccurring. Lactating limps lounging around cleaved limbs….. Retorting Collaborations with cramped abject distorted visions of prose Scenes of picture, poetry and paper hot wild and unrestricted verbose Cantaloupe galloping on the heel