Story

She’s a stole away heart.
Tail lights veering right.
She’s a drive away goodbye,
Of a midnight car ride…
She’s the radiance of a smile,
As the hour clock strikes.
She’s a sunset sight…
On a cloudless night.
She’s a warm summer rain…
A brilliant cascade.
She’s the heat of the night.
where words rise and dissipate.
She’s the anticipated wait…
The suspense of a coming dread.
She’s the soul that crumbles.
Concluded as is beginning...
She's the plot of my story.
A heroic tragedy.

Road

She's a free fall moment,
humid summer night.
wind blown smile.
speeding headlights.
late night verses,
destination plot.
background lull.
familiar roads.

Joy Williams

She said it all.........

Gone

Picture perfect moment
Captured,
selfish remembrance.
A faded memory.
Alas, an only memory.
A once was.
A come and gone.

Sink

A coming come.
age undone'ing.
click.
tick.
its a sure shot hit.
titanic a panic.
ship,
sink,
sunk.
now a happy.
narrow
empty
lonely.

..............

A coming of age,
an undone coming.
click.
tick.
its a sure shot hit.
titanic panic sink.
a happy kind of now,
narrow is as empty.
lonely.

Lovely Eyes

its a waterfront sit...
familiar face.
lovely eye bliss...
a star shot glance.
outta sight.
outta mind.
ironic happenings.
come round again.

Kudus Viewers.

For once i'll actually post something not sappy, moody or annoyingly perplexing and write something on a more.... human level. So this is me sharing and bouncing ideas, thoughts and thinkings off of you! Oh and for all you beautiful followers out there that take the time to browse... Kudus to you. Whomever you are or choose to be, you're beautiful and have an absolutely gorgeous heart. So thanks for the viewer support.

Its interesting at times.... As readers we conjure up this supposed idea and image of the artist or writer. What they see, feel, think, act or believe... we see it in their work. Because of this, we form opinions completely selfish to our own. When we stumble upon a piece of their work or anything in general. Likewise to life and its brilliance... so to speak. We are left with choices. Regardless of the situation at hand... There are always choices. We as humans neglect the obvious but so very distorted "thing." I call it "thing" because in all reality... what can you call something that can mutate into just about anything with the conscious human aid of a decision. For me, I try not to hold myself on grounds of right or wrong. In other words, deciding what to do depending on if its morally right or wrong. Then again... define morality and its supposed moral ways. Anyways, i'm just balanced and neutral. Seeing that my right may or may not be perceived as completely and utterly wrong to others. Not that i care or find myself influenced to exterior opinions; it just keeps for open and common grounds. Emotionless. In the world of analytic beings, we either view and disregard or allow it to swell within us. Either because of a personal connection/shared experience or because its something that captivates us on some form of level. We indulge ourselves and let the pure complexity of that "one" thing consume us so much that it becomes an intimate part of us. We can choose to hold on to this moment in time or allow it to pass by.

What i'm referring to simply is.... I as the creator and author of these, unique writings holds a deeper depth to words then a tattoo artist's ink needle. You see what i write.. you may or may not take time to read through it, disagree, agree, scroll through until you see something of other interest. Whatever you choose to do... you did. And i'm so happy for you and glad you did. In all honestly, i'm not looking for anything more or less. This blog was designed to keep myself sane and give me a place to spill and unload my thoughts. As a writer... opinions matter just as little as they do much. For some of you, you leave comments, some choose to rate and some choose not to choose and enjoy a pleasant read. Its so strange to think that for so long i've been the viewer and watchful eyes of
my inspiration. I always wanted and wished they would communicate more to their viewers. So here i am doing this for you.

So here's the thing....

I've found that my present now is always shaping into a past then. A time and a place where my life has been momentarily paused and heart was left. I can never just let go of anything and move on... It always seems like, if i hold on... maybe it was real or maybe there's that romantic chance that i'll get it back. Or some hollywood moment might come of it and i'll be happy. Moments and memories i hold onto... emotions i allow to erode and consume me. I love and feel stronger and deeper then most and because of it... i'm a continuous whirl wind of heartache. Sometimes i feel that with each day, i need to act and react to the most extreme and free spirited way. More so because that's who i am.. but also because i know i'll never have it again. So why not allow myself the chance to feel and make plots to ploys with ungoverned laws. Why not laugh and love so pure and freely that it flies you to vast heights. Consequentially, when all is said and done... your happy high matures into the deepest of lows. Sometimes i find myself frustrated with such an unsteady life. You could say i'm bipolar... scientifically i know that i am not. I "choose" to allow myself to feel. I choose to stay or leave. With each choice i make and do; i feel that the over looked becomes my later then regret. Does this mean i need to slow myself and take it in more. Appreciate things more....?

Nonsense. Under no such basis should i wallow in petty things. Then again, why do i lose sleep over it. Its a tattle tail mess. Sometimes i find myself in moments of the sincerest nature and force myself to remember each detail. And when its all said and done... i realize i didn't allow myself to "appreciate the moment." Where then, the left over feelings and emotions and memories may or may not have lingered. Ripen sweeter, given with time... a reminisce of a once was. Something i could sip my tea to while rocking gingerly in a chair. So where is the line drawn.

Are these the precious moments they speak of...? In regards to life. Precious moments where they only happen once and the produced memories are all you have left. A hollow, left over kind of feel. At its concluded end... its just gone. And the loneliness sets in again. Heart ache has left me so terribly worn... I just want consistency. That's all...

Down on Wilson.

Well I’ll be,
That doll’s the bee’s knees,
Giving me the heebie jeebies.
A torch I might be carrying.
Got me going goofy.
A stuck on kind of feel.
Ain’t got a clam,
Bum off any bimbo.
As long as she’s got IT for me.
She’s keen on the level,
A hotsy-totsy,
Moving fingers on keys,
She’s the cat’s meow…
Down on Wilson St.
She don’t take no,
Wooden nickels.
She’s a radical sensation
motion picture baby.

30 Second Scene.

she's a blue flame fire.
simple humble splendor.
modest, poise ease.
hearts fall short.
wind blown discreet.