Stormy Nights

Sleepy hollow, beds at night.

Sacredly hollowed.

Pitter, patter, the night runs away.

From dusk to dawn souls wonder,

Uniting in a land, some hatefully swallow.

Gently swayed by our own hearts deepest sorrows.

The night moves and all souls follow.

At night we lay. Begging for the end of our sorrows.

To meet up with old friends and kin long lost to life’s borrows.

Although we know life never gives them back.

At night we swallow.

Swallow our pride and fears.

We barrow strength to fight through the night.

At dawn we start to see….

Basking in the rays of the sun with no summer heat.

We lay in lovers arms, some in spirit; others in truth.

At night I dream of things I have yet to find true.

Stormy Night….

My sleepy soul, wallows.

Please see the below link to the song that inspired this Piece!!! 😉

https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=summer+rain+carl+thomas

Cable strings

From my spine to my mind.

Navel cord and time.

Binding me and stringing me

Not blood and sweat but heart felt thoughts.

Him and I

No longer separate but intertwined.

Him and I.

Stitch by stitch

Every inch we’re stitched

Limb, mind, heart and soul.

Together we burn.

Sifting each other, perfecting our cause.

Dust to dust and ashes to ashes. we lay down and get back up.

Inseparable, we’re matches.

Igniting each others flames

Like gasoline on my fire.

We burn slow and steady.

No abrupt combustion but intently set apart concupiscence love.

Tink Tink

Tink tink; I feel dry.

Tink tink; I overflow.

Tink tink; I look up at the sky.

They say eagles are a sign of good luck, but all I saw was a vulture.

Tink tink; does that mean death?

Death to my old ways?

Death to a bitter soul?

Death to my unruly ways?

Tink tink; I’m a well.

Freshly dug, and I keep digging deep.

Tink, tink I’m stubble and stone.

My life’s just begun!

I see new beginnings!

Tink tink; a garden grows.

Tink tink; its harvest time.

Tink tink; my harvest has grown!

Tink tink; I’m beaten upon the floor.

Tink tink; yes I feel pain.

Tink tink; the shaft is gone!

Tink tink; I see the fire!

Its a blazing flame.

I don’t smell flesh, its amazing grace!

Tink tink …the stubble is gone.

Tink tink; I’m firm and strong

Tink tink; I sing a song.

Tink, tink I cry aloud ” I’ve been remade and redeemed.”

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, I give Yah praise!

In Yahushua’s name.

Tink tink: Shalom!

Love on the Brain

What if I never experience matrimonial bliss?

Never entertwine my life with his?

Forget to hand him the key to my soul?

Relent that next man will be better and he’s never sent?

Will I miss the opportunity to quiver and quack?

Be moved to a deep rythythemus low tune.

Can one miss the chance to give someone else the chance?

Not setting the bar so high, they themselves can’t jump over or touch?

I wonder about my life without ever trusting someone so much with my heart.

Knowing that they know all my fragile spots.

I can’t hide or act unfazed when he called me some kind of way.

Who am I that he would trust me this much?

Hold all his insecurities, push past his hateful ways!

Because no one’s perfect and we cant all slay the day.

I dont know, but loves been on my brain. Not keeping me up at night but disturbing my thoughts at work. As I watch others and do my work.

Love is a funny thing.

Highly craved thing.

Detested thing.

Beloved thing.

It can go many ways and sadly we never know.

We all hope love isn’t broken, dead or a foolish fairy tale. And than either we or our parents, friends and associates just picked the wrong one.

We all think to ourselves “I wont.”

An even smaller voice muddles. “I hope I won’t.”

On we go, living and searching for love. Giving and wanting our care to be reciprocated back.

On we go waiting for someone to give us a long anticipated heart attack.

Only in the name of love we pray!

Ardere

My love

My dear

My sweetheart and closes kin

Fine are your ways.

Time overlaps when I’m wrapped in your gaze.

To whom am I speaking?

My friend, my mate, my sweet sweet lover.

I give myself to thee, you need not ask it of me.

I’m yours from birth till death do us part.

In and out of time.

I am no longer I.

You are no longer you, but you are mines and I belong to you.

My dearest, sweet love.

Fire burns in my breast.

Churning my spirit into a tornado spinning around you.

Not just the air in my lungs but the breeze that kisses my cheeks.

The sun that burns my back.

The winter that tells me to find warmth.

You’re multi-seasonal and unconditional tinder love.

Filling me with riddles and tunes.

Telling me of poems and rhymes.

Giving me your hand and asking for my care.

I care, I do.

Telling me to come near, I run to you.

Whispering in my ear, as we cuddle under the sun.

I fear, loving you so much.

But you never stop me from coming near.

Calling me and trailing me to run

I walk and listen to you voice and humm.

I hear are song, it’ll never be done. You sing to me when you smile.

hold my hand or say a prayer.

I confess my love to you like a sinner, I’m undone.

Weak he says I make him.

Strong, I tell him he is.

Please, do not break me?

Ardere is our love.

Diablo….

I saw it suddenly and it scared me. The devils in his eye’s.

I see it clear.

Most think he the devil only dwells in the blue or green eyed men.

But this devil’s taken to my brown eyed man, singing, he sings downtown, calling it the blues.

I see it in his eyes, I hear it in his voice.

He moans and groans, scatting about his choice.

My man with the devil in his eyes, has a delightful voice.

But that’s besides the point.

He called three times, and he came.

“That son of a bitch, went and gave it up!”

The devils in his eyes, and now he’s lost his choice.

Night after night, he howls the devil’s favorite tune’s.

That thing that dwells deep within all of us, he gave his own up.

And now he sings, every night about his deal with the devil.

And people listen from dusk to dawn, to that man singing about the devil in his eyes, and how he stole his soul.

Telling stories, he says the devil whispered in his ear.

Going on about when he called three times, some late, dark night.

Telling people, “I can’t cry.”

“Cause I’m the one that let him in. Ever since that night, I can’t sleep so I stay here and chant the blues.

I see things, no man should ever see.

When I let the devil in, he made himself at home.

Can’t shoo him out, because he’s got, my soul.

My mother cried and begged me to take it back. But I couldn’t tell her, it was a done deed, signed my name, and its a cold hard fact.

Now, I just close my eyes and humm that same ole tune. And think to myself the devils got me beat. I’ll just continue to play the blues. The devil’s tune will never change, I heard it on the night he came. A, C, B, C”….

But it’s just what I heard from this ole girl who loved a brown eyed man, with the devil in his eyes.

Bless My Love

My love, my love, my dearest sweet love.

I pray God blesses you in every way.

Dear, do tell me how soon until you are near?

Near enough for me to hold.

Close enough for me to smell.

Clasping arm around arm. My love, I hope you are well.

May God bless your eyes, so that you may continue to gaze upon me lovingly.

May the Lord bless your ears, so that you may hear my voice.

Bless your feet, so you may walk straight to me.

Most of all bless your lips, that they may meet mine’s. I pray you wont be shy and continue to kiss me and move over to my check, collarbone, breast, stomach and thigh.

Picture from Pexels.com

May he bless your hard-working hands, strong and wide.

My love, my love, my dearest sweet love. God bless your soul, that it may intertwine with mine’s.

All photographs by Pexel.com

Sagacity

I want to suck the nectar from his spine.

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Ring the juice from his bountiful grape vines.

Pluck the fruit from his glorious trees.

Ring them apart to plant my own seeds.

Enter his brain and travel its course.

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Mine out the Gold and cipher his source.

For this, I will need to cast a spell.

An illusion to drink from his well.

To pluck his rip fruit, I must prevail.

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Determine the strength of his roots.

I need to raise up a troop.

So that I can become a well, and water my vines.

How to befriend an enemy? To make him speak, to learn of his penetralia.

Get them to cast a spell, have him believe that you are a dry well; just a bit gormless.

Dependant upon their strength.

A damsel in distress?

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Or a strongly minded sang-from lady?

Maybe someone who is a bit in between?

A gentle being with a hint of masculinity? An effulgent aura!

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I think the best is a young hungry maiden who’s comparable to a typhoon.

Typhoons strikes fear into the heart. All while causing their victim to feel awed. Causing abeyance at her presences or entrance.

Thinking run, all the while begging to be kissed by her waves.

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Yearning for even just a stiver of her attention and care.

I know not the exact tactics to envelope his ways.

One thing I do know is that I will win this hunt and learn his sagacious ways.

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Mr.T

Mmm hmm Mr.T

similar to the Grinch.

Who’s learned to smile bright?

Masking his face with light.

Mmmm Hmmm Mr.T, I don’t want much to do with Mr.T

I feel he’s sick

Not hurt, just sick.

What if it’s the other way around?

Who knows, I still don’t like this Grinch.

He steals the show, but I bet he’s truly a bitch.

And I don’t mean in the commonly used way, he’s untrue to the image he shows.

Some call him cute and I think ewww.

It’s not normal to be so good at being cute.

Sometimes I see the Grinch.

I just know he has a black heart.

He isn’t truly nice.

I say this because he’s maliciously sly; with his cute pleasant smile.

depicting a soft demeanor.

He has a hidden motive.

And like a switch, out comes his mask.

I think I could describe him as the “Son of the mask, discovered by the Grinch”.

He’s not a “yes man” but he makes people perceive him as just as easy going.

Any feelings?

Nope, I’m cold.

Or am I…

Because I do wonder and allow my mind to ponder.

But I’ll try to be nice to the Grinch.

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Sisu….

Ambitions got a hold on me.

It’s burning in my chest.

Eating and consuming my flesh.

Tears gleaming in my eyes, begging for success.

 

Jittery, an explosion of massive energy.

This isn’t greed, Its determination of a dream.

A manifestation.

I’ve got grit signed throughout my genes.

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Fulfillment of a proclamation.

Declaration of my previously mentioned assertation.

 

Not just verbal affirmation.

Self-driven, accumulation.

Ambitions got a knife to my throat. He even told me he’s been assigned not to let me go.

I don’t know why? I’ve got my own gun to his head.

I’ll succeed and then we can die.

I repeat this is not fueled by greed.

There’s no ambiguity nor ambivalence.

The feeling is immensely concrete.

God himself made it into a decree.

It’s written in ancient stone, fear has to flee.

There’s no space in my stomach for butterflies.

I’m filled and spilling over with ingenuity.

My mission can’t be compromised.

For the last time, this is not greed.

Just a fulfillment of intuition.

A conviction as I try to express my predisposed inner-mission.

I ingress, not simply definied as ambition.

I’ve got zeal, ammunition, hunger, and lots of time plus commitment.

I am a manifestation of the law of attraction.

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You can characterize it as my genetic predisposition.

Each heartbeat propels me forward.

This can be simplified as a confession, there can be no intercession.

Not a probability, its a fact and definitely not an anomaly.

Stamped and sealed from the beginning of time.

Lastly, I was meant to win the race.

And no, I’m not simply speaking into outerspace.

My birth symbolic, of a worldwide resurrection.

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I’ll now continue my conquest.

Even in the womb, it was coupled around my spine.

God himself, imparted me with this truth.

He said, “I’ve chosen you and you shall bear much fruit”.

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