T H R A L L
The embers in your veins lure me into the depths of your soul. I stumble into your darkness, tripping over old bones, painful heartaches, and sharp disappointments. Yet, being covered by the darkest parts of you does not deter me.
I am gently guided blindly through the paths of your unspoken truths and hesitations. The song of your heart entangles fragments of my emotions as I flow towards you like the rush of the ocean’s waves kissing the feet of the sand.
In the distance, I see your dancing flame, purring like a lazy snow leopard, causing sweet vibrations under my chest as I walk towards your glow. My idle hand reaches the warmth of you as I feel a lick of your dark passion caress my skin.
It does not b u r n.
Your existence has been foretold under the covers of my dreams. Your eyes, Nordic blue waters hugging soft embers, bore into my soul, causing shattered breaths that barely escape my lungs.
Like a siren that brings humans to their knees, I cannot escape your t h r a l l.
I do not care to t r y.
Untitled
We seem to have to decide between deceit and a lie.
As if morality is such a hard word to define.
And I find as we try, we fail and we flail
in the dark, like the blind, and we don't even care.
Like a cancer, a virus, a parasite, a plague,
we feed on our host till it's dead and decayed.
And yet we don't stray, we stay staright on our course; Dead a head.
In our wake we toss them circus and bread.
Or, instead, a new enemy to fear and to dread.
The talking heads feed the beast with Exibit A, Exibit B.
With the expectincy we don't see what it all really means.
We're lost out at sea, we're torn at the seams,
on the edge of a presipise that echo our screams.
And in the cold light of day, who can truely say
they have all the answers to hold the darkness at bay?
All I know is I know I don't know a thing.
I wish we could burn it all down and start all over again.
The Naked Stranger.
The man walking down the streets naked, wearing an exclamation mark on his face fumbling and mumbling words, “Where is this place? Am I lost grrrrrr something must have gone wrong with me, am I hallucinating or what. The buildings here are really tall, where am i? I am really feeling hungry I don't know where i can get something to eat, every restaurant on the roadside looks costly.” People passing past him are wondering looking at him from top to bottom and thinking the man has a mental issue according to how he behaves, and he is naked, some pointing fingers from far, but the man does not notice the people’s perceptions, he continues with his loud thoughts, “Hey wait a minutes everyone around here looks clean and fabulous, wow those clothing, look at that one he has a very big trousers like he is about to drop them, i think i have to look for a place to hide in, i don't belong here. Wow someone is walking past me holding their ears with a flat rectangular shaped object, why is he holding his ears, what he is talking to himself; maybe he is seeing the spirits of his ancestors.
I am seeing everywhere is magnificent, is that a train running like a flash wow very fast.” He then hears young boys laughing loud pointing fingers at his private parts, looking at them with shy eyes, he immediately drops down and crotches on the roadside looking down to wait for laughter to disappear.
He later wakes up and kept on walking, on the way he meets a gentleman who decided to stop and asked him with a sigh, “Are you ok man” the man raised his eyebrows looked at him and looked down again, the gentleman decided to request him to follow him to a small clothing store nearby, the naked man accepted, shyly followed the gentleman, approaching the store he wondered as to whether he will be let in, but the gentleman ensured him of his safety as he was looking as if he wanted to retreat from entering the store. When they approached the door steps, the guy on the door asked the gentleman, “was he robed?” the gentleman said, “he doesn’t speak, I can see he only follows instructions.” The naked man at last raised his voice and said, “This is not my home” the doorman asked, “Where are you from, and why are you naked?” the naked man answered “well our homeland never had such tall buildings like the ones I am seeing around, I am just from my hometown and found myself here, even I did not know how I was naked, I am hearing that from you now.” Both the gentleman and the doorman said in unison, “Man this guy is not from this planet, he is strange.” The gentleman asked him would you mind if we give you something to cover yourself?” he responded “No I won’t mind.”
From Timbuktu to Kathmandu, I Only Long for You
I’ve seen Delhi, London, Sussex,
Been to Monte Cristo, Wessex,
I have seen the places of our time.
Cape Town was a great adventure,
I had fun in Fez and Denver,
And, of course, I’ll also say that Paris was sublime.
But of all these pretty places
There is not one that compares
To the love which I am always thinking of.
It always makes me blue, when I am away from you, so
From Timbuktu to Kathmandu,
I only long for you.
Russia just will always thrill ya’
See, from Moscow and to Vilna.
Lutzen and Nordlingen simply
Always have me singin.’
Odessa, well that’s just a mess a’
Space and place
Just like Dominga.
Though, I must admit, they’re very fine.
Cincinnati’s a malady,
Had fun in West Minster Abbey.
I walked throughout Harlem just like
I did in Jerusalem.
Ypres, Verdun, and old Bavaria
Are cold and bright and still great areas.
Los Angels may be pretty,
And it’s still a sprawling city.
But of all these pretty places
There is not one that compares
To the love which I am always thinking of.
It always makes me blue, when I am away from you, so
From Timbuktu to Kathmandu,
I only long for you.
I cannot describe Lake Eerie,
It was just too drab and dreary.
Sicily went swiftly from my mind.
Even then from Palermo and to Rio de Janeiro
Never have I felt so very fine.
Lima makes we wanna’ scream-a.’
Venice is a wondrous presence.
Dublin, is a picture to my eye.
I was not bored in Alatay,
In Dubai I would gladly stay,
Smiled wide at Asuncion,
The capital of Paraguay.
Hasankeyf and then Cambrai:
Places to have a splendid day.
Navarre was so very far,
And Rome just feels like home.
But of all these pretty places
There is not one that compares
To the love which I am always thinking of.
It always makes me blue, when I am away from you, so
From Timbuktu to Kathmandu,
I only long for you.
Madrid’s air brings anyone forth.
Who can claim they’ve crossed Khartoum North?
Laughter is so ever still
In the Republic’s Brazzaville.
I once went from Bohemia
Way down into the Crimea;
I couldn’t tell you how I laughed in Prague!
And from Niamey to Saxony
There’s an air of splendor on me.
I always wish for more
Time in Bangkok and Singapore.
And I’ve always found old Warsaw so pretty.
Tokyo makes you say “oh,
Just what a place to be,” and
The city of New York just feels so free!
But of all these pretty places
There is not one that compares
To the love which I am always thinking of.
It always makes me blue, when I am away from you, so
From Timbuktu to Kathmandu,
I only long for you.
Mumbai is a far cry,
Let me tell you, from Jaipur,
But both are places
Just so neat and pure.
I’d really like to live in Hue,
And Pailin’s nice, I’m telling you,
And let us never forget good old
Hanover.
Swingin’ into Berlin
Sure beats walking into Llorin,
Yet to Marrakesh they don’t even compare.
The Vatican has much history,
Yet I still prefer Kansas City,
And, of course,
My fond regards to
Tangier.
But of all these pretty places
There is not one that compares
To the love which I am always thinking of.
It always makes me blue, when I am away from you, so
From Timbuktu to Kathmandu,
I only long for you.
From the costal sites of Bombay,
To the deserts of Mojave,
I will happily tip my hat.
Though it’s often cold in Espoo,
It’s a pretty city, mind you.
Vilnius is stupendous.
Bruges is rather huge.
The heights are dizzying at Machu Picchu.
Santiago, Chile,
When I visit, makes me silly.
And I always want to party in Lombardy.
Everything seems jovial
When strolling through old Istanbul.
And the seas’s winds over Gwadar are so fine.
Fairfax is a pretty place, Niagara is a tourist place,
And Toronto is just across the line.
But of all these pretty places
There is not one that compares
To the love which I am always thinking of.
It always makes me blue, when I am away from you, so
From Timbuktu to Kathmandu,
I only long for you.
Yes, from Timbuktu to Kathmandu,
I only long for you!
#song
#music
#poetry
#geography