a generous soul
must give;
a loving heart
must embrace;
and yes my dear,
kindness
must be shared.
be brave,
and love big.
be stupendous
and smile with joy.
be true to you,
and live
out
loud.
and yes,
i love you
too.
Author: nomisyar
I collect Spores, Molds, and Fungus.
Falling (a metaphor, of sorts)
slipping
swirling
fluttering
and
spinning,
this leaf
and that,
sailing,
in the wind.
with feathery grace
or dignified aplomb,
they all fall,
fall,
fall,
down
to
the ground.
a sudden gust,
and one leaf flies,
surging with hope
but,
ethereal as these flights may be,
soon
there is only moldering,
under each tree.
so,
enjoy the view
and fly carefree.
even a leaf’s journey
from sky
to dirt,
may
set
you free.
Kismetic Recipe
a shy side glance,
and a
boisterous laugh.
smiles (lots & lots of smiles).
words flowing easily,
tumbling over each other like puppies at play:
uncensored and giddylike,
but carefully probing
for more signs.
glances
less shy,
and
eventually seeing
eye
to
eye.
a sense of ease
and
a
curiosity unfulfilled-
eternally perhaps,
or
one
may
dream.
Inkwell
i dip my pen
into murky depths
of heartache
and laughter.
of loves lost,
but never forgotten.
i swirl through heady pools of nostalgia,
accidentally slipping into currents of melancholia.
and then
i write these words,
for you.
alphabet soup hustle
letters
and
words
are sacred to me.
I use them
to create.
I connect them
to release my hate.
I juggle them
to relate.
I dance with them
to sketch my fate.
I quilt them together
to kidnap you
for some brief moments of time
and,
when you are in the grasp
of my grandiloquent bombast,
I drown you
in MY worlds
of joy (and fear),
and ego.
I want you to smile
and,
I want you to weep.
I
want
you
to
like
me.
I value myself,
without your praise.
I love
me,
without your clicks.
money cometh
&
money leaveth,
but the soul
(my soul
&
yours too)
knows
true love when it reads it.
What I create may be crap,
but I promise,
I’ll never shit on a page
and try to sell you gold.
“write for the soul
not the metrics” – Augustus Diesel
walk
through,
around,
under, and
near……
i feel
so many
ghosts
tickling at my heels.
what, and
who
i may have been,
float in
and out
of skull,
and heart.
rasping
memories of hurts long passed,
(unbeknownst)
have
chained me
to you,
away from my soul’s fount
away from my Muse’s manna
away from my destiny.
but,
look there!
yes,
a different view.
let me again lace up my shoe
and walk my path,
revealed,
anew.
scene of the crime;
drizzling up from
the unter-ether,
deprevations burst
forth anew.
there is little time for reminisces;
the time is here,
and
now,
steeped as it is in the
foggy certainty
of buoyant youth.
worth
did you see?
did you see my words?
i wrote them.
for you to read, yes,
but
they are not yours
to own.
you may borrow them
from time-to-time,
but,
know that,
they are mine.
they are not for you,
they are
my currency
for love.
a love that bubbles up from
inside of me,
but is returned
to my chest from you.
so,
did you see my words?
Words
my words carry me back
from far away,
and will take you there too,
if you dare.
this is not a, “how-to”,
but a, “how-do-you-do?”
this ain’t no hustle,
just an invitation to fly
with me.
money cometh
to those in need.
but
wouldn’t you rather breathe
and be free?
break the chain(s),
and
dance
with
me.
All Saints
ivy
clings on grave
things.
&
i miss
you, and
i love(d) you.
you taught me
to dream, and
now i can fly.
you taught my
heart to sing,
and now i fight
with a smile
and a swing.
You
were
Love,
and
Love
never
dies,
so
i will always be with you,
Tanty.
thank you.
theDeprevation 