My body is corpse of rotten flowers –my soul an angst ridden Sisyphus—Where’s warmth of a woman gone? When can I smell sweet Jasmine on your hair? When can I caress your hair with trembling fingers—your lips are sweet wine—When can I immerse on them—I long to plant loving kisses on you—When can I kiss the vermilion on your forehead, the sign that you have a husband. Adultery is the passion of poetry. When can I fondle your mounts of Venus, suckle your nipples like a child. I am fond of lesbian voyeuristic sex. How playful are they when they fondle their erotic breasts…How adorable are they when they sodomize themselves with their tongues…oh how I love to hear them moan in ecstasy.
No or little direct eye contact is a classic sign of deception.
A person who is lying to you will do everything to avoid
making eye contact. Unconsciously he feels you will be able
to see through him—via his eyes. And feeling guilty, he
doesn't want to face you. Instead he will glance down or his
eyes may dart from side to side. Conversely, when we tell
the truth or we're offended by a false accusation, we tend
to give our full focus and have fixed concentration. We lock
eyes with our accuser as if to say "You're not getting away
until we get to the bottom of this."
The drought brought forth cracks in my soil
As the seeds, carefully sown await
Under a black and white sky
I call the clouds to me as if I was their master
With gentle words like rain, he tends to me
Until the life in me awakens, in pale greens and yellows
New life growing outside of me links earth to sky
He is not a farmer who works the land
He is a steward of my fertile fields
Encouraging life in my land’s empty furrows, waiting
For his same tender hands to cultivate and harvest the best of me
Dusk
The splendor of the sky dazzled as an ornament. The sky, a golden furnace, robes of orange, mystic flames of purple all serenaded me like a catharsis. Angels on wings danced in the pulchritude of delight. Time has become a frozen dream of music. Evening is a tranquil lullaby, a poetic sonata of love. I watch the sun go into its hive. Dark has become a mourning night.
Dream
Had a strange dream—in this dream, a black cat was hissing at me; it was only a kitten. Looked at dream interpretations and it said: ‘I am afraid of my own intuition’. I am not fully convinced by the interpretation.
Illuminati
I joined the fraternity of the Illuminati today. Feel happy as a new born flower.
online now!
Herd on the raido that Hugh Masekela have pasted away..
This news was like apart of my world is no more..
It was a very hot after-noon sitting in a Breadfruit tree when I of Hugh Masekela for the frist time
His music from then have always stayed with me..
I think this might be his frist Lp coming out os South Africa..
Saw a yellow winged fairy floating in the air, dancing in psychedelic delight, showing off a magnificent opera of flight…dazzling me with a catharsis of sound echoing in colors, tuning into my mirth, a joyful song of love, a brilliant fusion of music, a soul of jazz, an epic poem, a beauty of passion, a nirvana so tranquil.
Saw flames of fire like tongues of music …they were swaying like many letters of the alphabet…I cast my eyes like a seer on them …I am drowned in their rich lyrical intimacy…they evoke in me a passionate ecstasy…is God devout speaking through the flames…the flames are a prophet of light …a diviner’s objet d’ art….
online now!
Those who dance
are consideerde insane
By those who cant hear the music
G,C,
The dark days are leaving,
Its time to think about this year
To do some thing positive in the world around me.
To take a big step into the New.