WOMAN 2

I wish to tell you another story of another woman. Passionate and loving in nature with good will to another. Her name was all that, and all that she was. A story of poet who used words to express and release her inner most feeling, but was entrapped by the strength invoked by the feelings printed on the manuscripts of her life. Now she became one with her poem, yet separated from the words, as each emotion it evoked only became evident in her life. Her life shared with a man of seven years her senior, but the same in mind, body, heart and soul. Her poetry became the very being of this one man, personified through love, hurt, guilt, and passion. He became her masterpiece, her manuscript. He spoke many languages, but the language of love was his strength and also his weakness. I wish to tell you the story of how the carnal and innate nature took hold of a man who wore a naked ring upon his finger, a ring of promises, and a woman who wore a half halo around her head. And how they raced the clock to exchange passion for passion, adventure for loneliness, guilt for mere pleasure and heart for heart. In that short space of time where they hastily uprooted forbidden love, they also carved a path that when journeyed together lead to Hopes and desires. Hopes that the naked ring would remain transparent on his finger, half dormant as the love he attached to it, yet forever attached. Desires that one day her half halo would be whole while he completes her.

I want you to feel the passion and love she willingly gifted him with, and to share the yearning desires he had to be with her but could never…would never… allow for himself, while to another he had vowed to live on the path prescribed for him, A man of honor as the great husbands of this world did, yet a husband he never was. To live loyal in a world scorched with infidelity…I grant him one favor…for being loyal in body, because while he still offered his heart and his body to another woman, he still offered her the deceitful bliss of only being hers. And with this, my character, to some the “woman on the side”, the “back burner”, but I’ll call her the lover…with this knowledge she willfully stayed. These great writers and fabricators of love failed in their portrayal of her. They failed to recognize the ingenuity, the humane being incorporated in my character, great philosophers could not find the hidden beauty and truth to the lover, and they failed to recognize her. For in her does love flow like the natural waters that nourishes the earth. Hidden beauty…she is bashed for only loving a man of another. She only loves with her entire being to see him well, to see him happy and prosperous. Why then is she slandered as the dogs of this earth? Does she not live by the standards of love, only in this case one man receives true love from two women of good hearts?...She is natural and beautiful for in her is TRUE LOVE….In her lies his heart for not even that is hidden from her. Aware of her disposition in a circle of three, she relentlessly offers herself to him none the less. The lover is beautiful in her strength…the strength to suppress her pain of offering herself completely to a man who is capable of completing her, but damned with a divided heart.

Hah….life is comical. For even though they may be worlds apart or just silent in the midst of each other, they are one. Let me paint the aura of tranquility for you. He and Her, together birthing love in the naked atmosphere as the day they were born. Embracing their differences in age….difference in man and woman….but harmonious in their desire to be comforted and loved by the other. They shared this romance many time. She breathes the very air from his nostrils as food to her existence. Each time he exhales, she inhales his odor, his flaws, and his infirmities to bear upon her as Jesus did on the cross. She inhales his manly being for her own oxygen of the air. Can you blame her existence from needing his presence? She would look in the eyes of a man her entire being yearned for and vision through his eyes longevity and happiness, but through her own she only saw pain, guilt and sorrow in having to let go of what does not belong to her. And yet her hands fit so perfectly in his, her steps duplicates his to the very path he takes. But enough of her….let me tell you about a Leo, who is painted as such by the woman in whom he utters his every story as a monument of his daily experiences. For a wife she was to him.

To achieve true happiness, sacrifices have to be made. And a sacrificed she made when she decided to let go of all her investments…never an unwise investment…nor an unwise sacrifice. Can a heart live without the blood to sustain it, or the body without food?...let me explain, sometimes to understand life, one has to step out and view it only as an onlooker separated from the nature of man and woman, separate from emotions, pain, and life. Life looks easy on the outside however, my character experienced sorrow beyond the femininity in birthing a child, grief beyond death, and pain beyond a wound. For to her a part of her heart was being ripped away at the decision she had to make. A sacrifice for happiness without division or guilt. She had to let go, for to her this man had refused to loosen the ring upon his finger, he was a faithful cheat. A woman she is, humane in every way, but this time she did to herself an act that was callous and heartless, for to no other man could her body embrace…to no other man could her heart feel the need to bleed to give love, for she loved him unwaveringly and willingly. She is a master of words, with the skills to root up an army of passion and lust, to gain love and reciprocate…but for her selflessness towards him and now her selfishness for happiness, she sacrifices that skill for a new relationship. One with the creator, God. It takes a long time to come to a moral decision about sin and sacrifices, but it is the great moment in her life when she decides that just as Jesus Christ died for the sin of the world, so sin must die in her, not curbed or suppressed or counteracted, but crucified.

She separated herself from a shared love…one hats divided, but love in its entire meaning…just to be whole with love that belongs to her only, where she is the priority in his life. She became one with God. And even though her heart is his temple, she only wishes to share this temple with him again. Not as lovers but as soul mates in Christ. But this is only a dream. To each his own.

STORY OF A WOMAN

Let me tell you a story of a life of a woman, a seductress, a Christian, a daughter, a lover and Me, all one. A life lived to the standards of all that is good and pure, and at the same time selfishly satisfies the body for her own happiness. A happiness that reaps sorrow and disappointments to others. She lives not for herself but also for the world. I am not talking about happiness of a moment or a point in time, but total tranquility that rewards with elation in success, fame, family, sex and above all LOVE. That which she so relentlessly seeks after, but only find through selfish and selfless acts of faith and determination, All in the name of finding love and total happiness. One which does not exist, not in this life at least, maybe in dreams and fantasies where I want to forever live. I have total control over my domain. But enough of me, this is a story of a woman who loves and seeks love. It surrounds her daily and showers her with magnitude of gifts and honors. This is a girl who speaks and it becomes gospel, who walks and leaves a path to be followed, who never takes advantage of ones strengths and weaknesses, instead she explores their capabilities and potential to benefit herself with a lack of respect or consideration of their emotions and feelings. She reminds me of myself. Her soul mirrors my image.

Back to the point of love. A world she creates and makes true by her own endeavors. She is loved but yearns to love another. A soul that is so pure that even love awaits her approval and acceptance. Her beauty so radiant that it casts down all foothold that stands against her. She is wanted and hunted that she needs not to search for her prince of perfection for princes awaits her embrace. But wait this is a story not of love rewarded but of love stolen and cherished. A girl who walks on a platform laden for her by lovers and admirers and yet she feathers herself with the unattainable, men who are untouchable by bonds of love for another. To think that she would be equip with the consideration and respect for both women alike, but challenges herself to acquire Love through sex. A borrowed love until he becomes hers to keep. Purity is only what the mind conceives, for she is an angel of her own charms manifested in the sinister all manhood. Why should she deprive herself of the possibility of receiving a life time of happiness at the expense of another? That significant other will move on to her truer happiness.

I seek to tell you how she fought with fate to grant her this myriad of bliss that she seeks for, in a man she’s come to adore and love in the true meaning of the word. One who’s body is a masterpiece, his mind a maize filled with knowledge, his soul so humble and meek, hands soft and prosperous, lips so promising that it makes her melt from each sensational contact and a heart that is only a small part for her. His heart belong to another. Yet he resuscitate her compassion. He seems so perfect, but is someone else’s perfection. I stand on a platform paved with morals and dedication, yet I feed on a lifetime of guilt so much as my character so do. A woman she’s called, for in her is created all emotions of the human character, she laughs, she cries, she hurts and she loves. The SHE God created from the HE. Woman, who inhibits all that a man has and all he has not. And he who lacks shall find the she to compensate. So as to be titled soul mates. To be continued…

KARMA IS A BITCH

Karma is very much existent
as sure as I am that of a woman.
My soul bids me to taste and enjoy
to take all and be captivated by its satisfaction
in a man whose heart holds another.
My femininity sings a song
that echoes as a charm,
that sends pleasure and companionship to our hearts.
I shall take him and the fruits of nature
and be filled by his presence in my life.

Yet with all knowledge known to man
my actions will only create an oppsite reaction
and sweetness in danger and mischief
reaps only pleasure and pain
It propels me to continue.
To the naked eyes of those who judge me
lies on flat surface promiscuity,
In my body lies a temple.
I open not the doors to that sanctuary
but a mere flesh that needs healing.

Karma persuades me to prostitute my innocence
for the mother of all things green in envy
she rotates around the face of the sun
to see him glow beauty on
and he too finds pleasure in mocking me
of my destiny that only he has sight of.
Mother and I share that in common.
But nature takes union with reality and warns me..
..HE belongs to another
Karma bids me to linger till my fate peruses me
much more than I'm being pursued by him.

THE WINE

I explained this after the poem. IT might be hard to understand.

He drank down the wine and they kept going.
He and She,
Not knowing whats to come in their way
He drank up the wine and she kept weeping.
The car broke down and he was sleeping.
Where would you go without ever knowing the way.
He kept drinking and she kept walking.
Love flew with time, and she was still by his side.
But hearts half filled with fear, now broken
and she left him, no longer there.
Sober now...
He found himself staring in the eyes of a stranger,
like those many other strangers,
a night walker in search of a kind drunk to fulfill her desires
of love and money and sex.
His soul mate had gone..
..when the wine had pierced its deepest.

EXPLANATION
Sometimes men can be so blind as to the treasure they have st their side and would only hope and think that everything is alright. But this man was blinded by the "wine" which alludes to the joy of being let loose and highly freed and favoured. But he did not realize that while he was enjoying life and thinking all is well "he drank up the wine" and lost the appreciation of his soulmate whose heart was broken. "She kept weeping". Slowly but surely on the road of relationships and its encounters being driven in a car that represents love, not knowing the way. The car eventually broke down, love had stopped, and as sure as time flies, love had flew away. Still caught up and half blinded drunk had not seen that all was gone and all this time she was by his side...weeping. A prostitute represented the affairs he had and the betrayal. A stranger had come between the two. He then realised his love had stopped and was gone. Life had stopped at the last drop of wine.

Surprising how men can be so blinded that they fail to appreciate and ador. They cheat, they lie and they abuse. But love will only corporate when they learn to appreciate. Dont take your mate for geanted beacause as time ticks she might be walking and the gap keep broadening.

WATCHERS

Onlookers only saw the beauty
that shone so radiant when she walked.
Heartbreakers could only feel her innoscence
that she brought each time she talked.

But the world could not discern how she
strolled on hot platter and spoke with a heart
that did not matter with things that decayed.
Because at nights she would weep her time away.
She closed out all eyes
to mend her heart.

I FOUND CHRIST

I dedicate this one to a new friend..Gavin who is helpin me on my way. I think he is the car that hit me in this dream. Hey dont get tired of my dreams...I did say they speak to me.

Walking through the middle of the night has always been a mystery
Not knowing where you're going.
But traveling with a mind set on solving destiny.
I remember one night out of many when I decided to walk in pitch black.
This time I had a purpose,
I ran like the wind in no direction,
I ran to become one with the night,
Closer to eternity, farther from bitter sweet bliss.
I had a purpose, Just needed a reason to continue.
I ran towards mutiny and found light in the night.
I found christ when I stopped at an intersection.
Confused by the loud calls of the night
But one voice spoke quietly..
.." I am the way, the truth and the light"
I found life, light in darkness.
I found christ, the end to my mystery.
I felt salvation knock me straight in the lightpost,
last thing I heard was a loud horn,
My journey was ended
And I was born again.

CHASING CAR

This is another one of my dreams...I wish most cars were like the one I Fabricated in my visions.

I'm driving a car
that slides on my dreams
and is a wish upon a star.
So polished I can see my face,
Eyes of a thousand children
Ears of a thousand cries.
Mouth of that romantic pilgrim
A face of an old stallion smiles.
Gas depressed as I slow down my life,
I steer myself in my own direction
while the front lamps of an image besets
before me the path of salvation.
The famished glow that paints before me the past,
a rear view glance...
...Turn left... Turn right
Reverse... you'll have a second chance.

I have a car
that drives in my dreams
and is a wish upon a star.

MY LAST WORDS

I sat down to write what was on my head
To write the last words of my life,
but couldnt express it the way I wanted
So I sat and wrote a poem instead.

The words all twisted and confused
It sends conflicting signals
while it hits on iron to make a sound that rhymes.
All logics and knowledge I refused
so that I can write whats in my time.
These words, that like water pitter-patter drops
from my mind and became my religion.
I'd pride myself to make my words shine
I'd bleed my scars to write the truth.
These words belonged to me
These words are mine to keep,
That in which I reaped.
I write my last chronicle,
and should it be an illusion I'm recieving
and not my true ending
I'm going to keep writing
and use love as an ending.
I write my last eulogy..
..crazy like my life and all my other lives:
love, hate, romance.
And if I write another one of my last poems
It will be my last chance
to use words like it used me
and I'll return the courtesy.

Words are my life,
my last poem may be my begining.

EYE OF THE STORM

We've all been through some stormy days...but guess what I? I welcome them so that after my cries and sorrow, there will be no more...only the sun light to make my dark nights clear.

It started to rain, I don't know why
The pitter pat of sorrows, the sky cries
Darkness absorbs me, It reveals to me
Clouds of darkness revealing my iniquity.

Pitch black nights arouses my sins
Thunder and lightning the rainy clouds bring
A striking voice warning me
Rumbling violently to set me free.

A state of tranquility now a nigh
Darkness fallen, my inner torment fades and die
Revealing s new beginning, a new joy seen
Darkness consoled me, lighted my inner being.

JANICE

lol...A good friend of mine wrote this poem to me in my earlier years...I love her for her honesty..."my ally, never to be my foe"...They say wounds from a friend is far better than kisses from the enemy...Thanks Lori

Did she feel the connection as she stared into his eyes?
I wonder if she knew it was lust, love in disguise?
Although they passionately gazed
and her heart skipped a beat,
Unrequited love culminating to her heart's defeat.

Her love for him will never end
To the ends of the earth his heart she will defend.
I pity the fool who gets entwined in his web of deciet.
He tricked her to give her all
So she can recieve a temporary high
her sexual treat.

They dwelled, they explored, he conquered
Another sexual conquest, another moral he lowered.
I share your pain my naive friend
Just know my love for you
will never end.

WOUNDS

This one is another dream. I grew up hearing that dreams tell a story...a story of your fears...of your desires...of love. So i wake some morning and write what I saw. They tell a story I believe...It says alot about my dreams.

I remember walking a narrow road
A fine line dividing reality from dreams
Dividing life from death, But I must
walk the narrow path to reach the gates
that will find love forever.
While traveling that road I searched for paths
that could lead me to the gates fast.
The sun shone like there was no tomorrow,
like there was no end.
But I continued...
quenched my thirst with the salt and sweat of life
Fed myself on rhetorical love
Enough to carry me through.
Yet the fire of desires raging
only showed me the unreachable.
I grabbed to gain, but got nothing
I wounded myself from the anticipation.
I finally reached the gates
I finally found love...
BUT I WAS TOO WEAK TO HOLD ON.

GOOSE BUMPS

It touches me and raises my skin,
It blows around me...I'm elevating.
It hugs me, warms me with ice.
It's goosebumps in disguise.

The sensation, hair begins to rise.
Its coolness, hands of spies.
Touch me...Feel me...Warmth me...
He's goosebumps in disguise.

DAWN ANNA

This one I wrote after a good friend lost her first child. To Anna my dear friend, may your children be a blessing in this world just as you were a blessing in my life.

Sometimes life breaks your heart
But it never broke her spirit.
She lost the sight of life,
she lost the sight of her 'sun'.
Anna was deprived of the nine months of sunlight
she once found joy in.
Now is impregnated by a life filled with the burden.
She is tied off, from the nature of living
as though the mother of this earth would.
Anna lies there on her death bed,
But would she regain her strength?
Will she ever have the dead son-light
shine his rays upon her once again?

Anna grew with nature, but she never stayed green
She grew with only her reflection
a dazed mirror of her grandchildren...
The ones she would never have.

NEVER MET

Starcrossed lovers who've never met
Crowded daisies thats never been wet
A love that sparkles but never ignites
A life together, vision without sight.

The stars hang on just by a string,
A dream built on ruin
When eyes of two becomes four
Then shall this dream become more.

SHHHhhhhhh......

I spent a week in silence just to better understand
the sound of a whisper,
of the heart beat,
Of silence...

....a deafening sound it was.

You asked me whats wrong
You asked me whats going on,
Shhhh, listen for the answer
Shhhh, listen to the expressions on my face
They speak louder than words.
They have a power to portray my inner being.
SHHHHH
Quietly stare yourself in the mirror
and you'll get the answers.
Be defiant...
Shhhh, be quiet.
The answers stare you in the face.

A LIVING HOLOCAUST

White, black, yellow, all the same in different color,
All alike in search of revolting freedom that only kills
The more they strife.
Untold counts of lost loved ones to a treacherous revolt…
Living bias against uniqueness due to different Lords and different Hue.
No compassion for the same alike in faces, structure and souls.
They kill….a living holocaust.
They kill leaving hearts darkened as the pigment of their skin…
As their souls rise in dense fog and joins the air of bliss,
Ecstasy in death deemed their only freedom.
Burned hearts, Burned body, no hope…a living holocaust.

Screams of torture, Screams of fear.
Children left to wander the earth as wild animals.
Hiding in bAnana trees, seeking reFuge fRom lIfeless neCessities
So as not to be seen by the light one, his skin as bright as the sun,
The one whom they think have all authority to burn their villages
Burn their homes, burn their families and leaves only smoke of hope.
They fear, so they run to a land of milk and honey, a land not promised to them.
imprisoned in Canaan, forced to abide,
Forced to live as the animals they are
Land of milk and honey my ass.

Mount the rivers of hopes you live on,
Rise above this living holocaust.
Make a world that demands your best and not the white mans test.
Declare by the color of your skin hard work and labour filled.
SuRvival under the ‘Sun’ of the white man’s world
And cast down shame in this America….
…a land of filth and money.
Prejudiced demons they are….a living holocaust.

LORD OF THE PIANO

I've watched him play,
Hands of emerald gently strikes
the keys of ivory and black.
With such dedication he puts melody in noise.
Skirts upturned to give him gratitude for his skill
as eyes, ears and hearts open to his will.
TODOO TADAH TODOO
"He is the lord of music"
"He is the lord of the keys"
He composes the air to a long pause
that sends harmony and lust to their seats,
All melt to his rythm
All insignificant notes on his masterpiece. 

I've watched him play
with such dynasty.
Bold hands with the power to make
lovers as enmity.
Then he explodes his ending with brilliant silence.
The lord of the ear have just sent me into madness.
"He is the lord of music.
It his to maneuver"
"He is the lord of the keys"
He lashes out such tenderness
on each precise touch,
And emotes such empathy
which delivers unwanted love.

I've watched him play,
A sight of beauty
I was fawned,
by such intercourse between his music and him,
I praise him for his talent,
He is magnificent
"The lord of the piano has captured my intellect"
He played my life on ivory and black
Disguised my pain in a musicians sack.
I'm now his apprentice
And I was his final piece.

DEATH WEDDING

I wrote this after one of a close friend Died. Death, though its an end to someones life..dont be fooled because its an enlightenment in another life. More specifically me.

Irrespective of the Whole view on the cycle of life, my life is embedded in the thought of the after life or should I say...My life is a preparation for death. Death does not scare me, I wait for him and I'm Prepared. He comes like a poisonous apple in disguise, Ready to feast and savor its delight..he seeps through the veins and take you by surprise. My whole philosophy of death is based upon my experiences. I often dream of my wedding (a disguise of my funeral). The dress, traditionally white but dreamed black..that lovely black dress I'm being wed in; an external sleep. And the people, that fascinates me the most in my dreams. The great numbers in which people turn out to see me wed; my give-away father who cries because he is loosing me to fear, he gives me away to death, and my friends who misses me because I'm no longer there.

But through out my dream I was fawned by the groom, tall dark and handsome but without a face. He is my night in shining armor, I was ready to marry death. Death was his name..and as much as it scared others, it gave me thrill. He was my escape from reality...from life..a world of misery, responsibilities, High expectations and pain. With open arms he received me, with a mournful palm dad clenched on to me...refusing to let me go. But i wanted to go. I was now and forever will be death's most prized possession..wanted by him and loved by life. I lay on the bed of roses all sewn together into a wreath..rotten with fragrance. The casket was closed and death and I forever lived. There was no more pain, no more rush....just peace and tranquility that lead me insane. I WANT LIFE.

Yes, call me Psycho? There is a fine line between being a psychopath and a realist. I'm real, Death is real. Death is that which assures me that there is life. I YEARN FOR LIFE.

BROKEN ILLUSION

Hahaha hahahhaha...I can but only laugh at the turn of the wheels
"What goes around comes right back around"
I sneer at such philosophies as each word paints my life.
No longer can I bash and smirk at unexpectedness,
No longer can I underestimate life.
The vivid reflection that mirrors in my soul.
I look me in the eye,
My own reflection through an ally.
A woman, a friend, now trod that which I've buried,
Taken union of emotions with that which I've once loved.
I scold the manifestations that life presents to me.
Now my image...once my friend, never to be my foe
Retells my story....a story that yields no love,
But that which woos the mind,
Plays the heart,
And offers a treat to bliss.
A bliss that only compensates for each participant,
Compensate for what he lost,
Compensate for what she did not receive
Joined together unholy to give strained love.
I love this likeness , but I weep for her hallucinations. 

Its only a reflection,
Only my mind can conceive

Broken dreams is all it reaps.
Shattered love, shattered hearts.
Hhahaha


By: Janice Hall 

Copyright law 352154
No stealing

MY STORY

I am ready to tell my story...let ink spare my life...let words drain me of this inescapable sadness...and let my soul pour on paper, so that truth may be told. Truth be told...life toys with the very presence of my existence...One man, One heart, living through but my life and many...have found a way to repel against that which I hide, one man was able to replenish and destroy simultaneously the barriers of a woman's secret...of my secret. He places chaos at the fore front of my heart...and created unrequited love. Once shared but now only an individual emotion. That if its not given nor received may send me into madness...that which I have already begun. His words stains my memory, it pierces deep to the stone cold heart...and he makes it burn, inferno. How can a single man out of many alike, many different, many better...have such an effect on me, that it makes me yearn for him, yearn for his love that had more than once manhandled my very wifely-hood. Gave me no attention...much more than my own reflection have. Yet he loved me by giving me and showing me his true self...that which few have received...that which I was so elated to have shared. But his very existence in my life causes me pain...lonesomeness and ignored. A good man with bad habits...habits that I took as my job to fix... I tried to fix him...and loosed something that I cant replace. I plague him as the miracle in my life...Hopeful thinking that leads to an empty road. GOD BLESS THAT ONE MAN'S SOUL.

My story ends where the words on this very paper stops. And at that point. .so does my collection of emotions spent...but not wasted...And at that point I will be happy again...no more fifteen minutes of tears.

A MAN'S WORLD

Do you believe a man can love a woman and constantly betray her? Betray her in the mind, in the very poetry of his soul? Men do it all the time, not physically.

Do you know how men can love you, feed you that love deliberately to poison your body and mind simply to destroy you? And out of passionate love, chooses not to love you anymore? And at the same time dizzy you with an idiots ecstasy? Impossible?

I can make men feel the painful beauty of a child, the animal horniness of the adolescent male, the yearning suicidal moodiness of the young female. And then show you how time turns man and woman around full circle, exchanged in body and soul.

How about TRUE LOVE? Sexual fidelity? Does it work, Is it love? Is it human, that perverse passion to be with only one person? And if it doesn't work, do you get a bonus for trying?

Life is but a comical business, and there is nothing funnier than love traveling through time. But a true poet can make her audience laugh and cry at the same time.

Death it another story. I will not make a joke about death. I am always alert for death. He doesn't fool me. I spot him right away. He loves to come disguised as TRUE LOVE; a comical wart that suddenly grows and grows. He takes his victim by surprise, but not me. I'm waiting for him.

Parallel to death, love is tiresome, childish business, though men believe more in love than death. Women are another story. We are a powerful secret. The only man who scare me is the one who loves me for myself alone. He cant be allowed to live, especially if he's faithful and never lies and always puts me ahead of everything and everyone. I'll open to him...I'll love him. I will be his.

NATURE TALKS TO ME

Think of a place that makes everything seem so unbearable, beauty so tranquil that it spreads joy throughout every crevice of the human inhabitants.
The smell of the ocean,
The beauty of a flower,
The light in your smile,
The warmth in the sun,
The music in the wind,
The touch of the earth.
All so unanimously plays a melodious tune that warms the body and makes it yearn for another to share such meaningful aura with.
 

Should he so earnestly feel the sensation that i have now captivated myself with,
that he may reward me with love that would send me to an inferno and make my soul burn,

passion burn within me, make that height in the moment hug me with climax.
So that rain may pour from his divine body to cool the fire that he so skillfully lit.
His skin enfolds me into an hysteria where two becomes one, lost in the darkness of the atmosphere and our breath becomes one with the wind, racing across the heavenly union of man, woman and nature, a symphony created by us. 

 

Where all lustful and passionate tete-tete may be locked between lips that so earnestly awaits the taste of adam's apple, to quench the thirst that waters down my fiery furnace.
A place in this world where I can look in the face of nature and see my soul mate envelope me with long palms, never to let me go. Like trees that sways through the wind he stands firm to shelter me with his broad chest, forever to console me.
 

A place where we together await the sun's resurrection and all things smile and chirp at such holy matrimony that creates two again but one in mind and heart. Where the green pastures lay a bed for me to reminisce of a beauty so burining,
a windy touch so passionate,
a harmony so promising.
I wish to forever live in such tranquility.
In a place only one man can take me.
NATURE TALKS TO ME.

ABOUT ME

At a point in everybody's life, they realize they are not the same person they were 5 years ago, and the experiences we share, create or mastered has made us into a whole different person. To some, better off and others far from their goals. Then there are the few that I like to call the Enigmas. Now that's me.

I am an education and an inspiration..."Janice" - Gods gift.
For to all those who have encountered me will agree that I am a lesson to be learned , as well as a friend to be enjoyed.
Fun-warm-hearted amd Jovial, but I am also human and moody at times.

I love the spices of life and all it has to offer.
I act within the boundaries of my own vast and curious mind and I'm not limited by social norms.
I love adventure and tend to gravitate towards people who are like minded.
Other wise I have tolerance for less....Understanding is my motto!

I'm not easily angered but watch what you say and how you say it!
Im observant, placing importance on each spoken word and idle gesture.
Don't want to push me over the edge.
I don't tolerate shit!

Sexy-Sophisticated-Goof...yep that's me!

I GOT IDEAS

OK...I LOVE DRAWING AND I LOVE WRITING...BUT POETRY IS MY WOMB, EXPRESSED THROUGH MUSIC AND SONGS (MY BABY)...I LOVE ANYTHING THAT DEALS WITH WORDS. THESE ARE MY WORDS.

I got ideas.
Words of simile,
that cuts so deeply,
Beyond skin deep drama, fantasy and farcical realities
I got a poem locked up behind bars.
Bars of steel hearts...
Bars of unspoken thoughts...
Bars that bars us from the truth,
And these ideas will take the route of a pilgrim
and take root, swallowing and drinking like gospel to the ear
for you to bear on the cross like Jes-us.

What I resound through my poem is peace to all.
My anthem of love,
persuasion of trust.
I got ideas but i still lust.
And in these tones and rythm of letters
u can hear the cries of the broken,
hear the laughter of the victors,
feel the tears of the mother...earth..
who birth experiences known to man.
For I got ideas in my hand and in my eyes
are nerve ending signals sending meaning to my thoughts.
I Got ideas.
I got food for thought.

AT WORK...27/JUNE/08