I Do Understand And It Is Lonely, The Walls Are White Because People Cannot Create Their Own Colors To Paint The Walls. They Only Know What Everyone Else Knows. - CreationSoul
I spend all night thinking of you, until the sky turns blue and there is no moon. But there is no sun and the day has begun without the one, true sunshine…only the rain has come. There has never been enough bullets in my gun, to shoot down every raindrop, and these bullets just pass through the clouds. So I walk with my head down, so the water doesnt wet my face. Wishing things were the same, take me back to place, before the rose fell into the rain. - CreationSoul
Avenue Of Attraction
How do I approach her? With all these guys and all the lines that just seem to gross her. As I watch her walk by, with the touch of her smile, innocence of a child, but I know her feet has walked over 100 miles. With a Beyonce strut, looking for love not lust so she doesn’t accentuate her butt. Truly it’s about beauty not the booty, With a book in hand, pen and looseleaf, I write…So what do I say to a girl that has heard it all. Nothing, I just sit down and let our eyes talk.
Watch these rap Niggas get all up in your guts..
French-Vanilla, Butter-Pecan, Chocolate-Delux
Even Caramel Sundaes Is Getting Touched
And Scooped In My Ice Cream Truck, Wu Tears It Up !
Wu-Tang in the cut, for real niggaz what?
It’s the after party and bitches want to fuck
Rejection.
When there is a miscommunication in a relationship, no matter if it’s moved from strangers on the street, just getting to know each other, or long, committed and closed relationships- a lot of disfunction comes from rejection.
I find that quite a few
youngmen don’t know how to…
L Train, Cart # 5
I am looking into the eyes of peoples lives that don’t much to do with mine but somehow they do intertwine. It’s starting to make sense to me that every person around me, though they may not play a significant role in my existence, they are somehow important to my well-being. I am trusting people I do not know to keep me sane for this train ride, and though they may not realize it I appreciate everything they are doing for me. Without people I would nothing have to admire, besides the flashy yet mundane and redundant posters; nothing but repeated patterns on a floor that can never be clean no matter what. At this very moment there is a seemingly beautiful girl with caramel brown eyes though caramel is not the right treat to describe such taste and grace with one look in her eye. Though it can be argued that it is a male and female attraction but I feel that even if it were a guy I would admire the eyes the same, deeming the poise, angle and position are the same as this woman next to me. Sweet yet innocent, which is an oxymoron in my book, is the look of her face. Her style sends questions of: Is she funky dressing tacky or maybe a little under privileged? She leaves and there is nothing left to focus on, maybe the 2 African-American look alikes that might want to redeem their dignity for whatever the ghetto have stripped them of. This is a external judgement, due to my past interjections with that culture and my ignorance about that culture. Which does not make sense to me because I am accustom to that culture. But as a foolish girl once told me nothing in the world has to make perfect sense.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
As Silent As She Speaks
As silent as she speaks, words turn to photographs, still waters running deep, at the paths where the two meet, but never make physical contact. Clouds that soar through the air try and move me, photographs turn to movies. With stagnant pictures, depicting, shhh silence, for the art doesn’t speak in terms of depiction, its diction is less restricting, more or less the true vision, which is blind to everything it’s not relaying, meaning it relays no true value unless of course the art is you and rightfully depicted as such. Remember I’m talking about her, but butterflies turn to birds on the right night. You probably don’t see me turn on your night light, your beauty is art, poetry for the heart, so the vision, I was earlier spitting it was me and you kissing, I like u but I’m totally dismissive, stagnant pictures…of your face remains in my mind, every frame and now I write it to the blind, which is you, cause you never see me do the subtle things to impress you. So fuck it time to move on, I’m single I write poetry, every time you see me I will throw up the peace sign so you know it’s me, and I’m not used to doing this but will you go with me, float along the still waters of moving stagnant pictures and movies, stay in the clouds cause only you can move me…Few things are meant to happen, I guess love isn’t one of them, succulent treat epiphany pondering heart ascending nights indulging equally, I’m open minded, adorable nectar irreplaceable yearning affection. Wait, why am I describing my dream girl? Cause I’m just a speck of tie die color on the blank canvas consisting of most guys. I’m done trying I think I learned my lesson, so render me helpless, choke hold breathless, I shouldn’t have test it, here comes the next hit, the next punch, one hit off the next blunt, gone till November just hope it’s not the next month, I let the rest hunt, while stay back and look at you, and I apologize if I’m not your average Brooklyn dude, I am a shy kid and just don’t know what to say to you. Thats why I always have that childish innocence on my face, I like you and it might be a little too late. So I’m waiting at the station, hopping in Hubble and I’m off into space, and I’m thinking girls are like bad dates coming all late, but that all I could equate…
