I wear my feelings in my eyes.
Merry has a brittle mouth.
Rose-coloured cheeks lit with a smile.
Let’s go sailing, round the world.
Crack open shells of hardened frowns.
Always breathless, talking too loud.
First dumb thing that comes tumbling out.
Infectious spirit, plastic smiles,
Feel the san? and the other half,
Another party, gloomy sort
You never know what egg will hatch.
Feelings become a giant shark.
Lightening strikes not in the same place.
Routine a shame for curious minds.
Ever seeking. Ever searching.
Society’s shunned anomaly.
Bleeding out, My breath bruised the peace.
Addictions rule with a firm grip.
Sun shining on a rainy cloud.
Surface scratching, Fickle minded.
A person of keen interest
Different from all of the rest
A national cake you may say
With a real good heart on display
Smells as good as an edelweiss
A million greys says they wise
Two hands,one heart.Warm soul,fine smile
Worth every traveled long mile
Peace loving one stop at justice
Live painting, lovely edifice
Breaking my animal spirit free.
Nursing my desiring addiction
Psychologically goal oriented in shadows.
Yet seemingly, I still want it all.
The adventure of an artist.
Lighting sparks, killing the dark
Either between poison or an antidote.
My soul found its addictive drug.
Mood set off, staying in distress.
Burn down small shallow ‘conversays.’
Talking life on another pace.
A deep feel of the actual process.
Some what emotionally attached
And oddly disinterested
Yet for all its worth
I wear my heart strings on my sleeves.
And life is like never ending
I bleed out a life of sun rays
Dazzling rainbow splashes.
And camera shutter flashes.
And I will be your stage
Perform and lemme be your art. Hypermind
This trait that has so many gates.
Sometimes people get so high
Thinking we dine in snubs and lone
But we are a combination.
Little social, more deep texts, tests
We observe like a Shepherd call
Watching sheep, Wolves slaves in fine cloak
Wild when it comes to someone know.
Mild when in the midst of cold stones – Rachel Charles
My soul drifts on noisy waters
And sails through quiet tides
Happiness resides in my bosom
Humour drifts with my blood
Deviancy lurks in my deeds
My heart leaks with forgiveness
My soul floats on inner peace
Confidence swags my steps
My being yearns for calm
Seriousness remains a mystery…
a passing fancy
the rhythm of social eyes
precise to concur with drinks
of fantastic dreams.
I am words embedded in my mentors staff
a faint life buried deep in a chaff.
I hail from a lineage of books
words surpass the one that builds me.
I am a sycamore of short hope.
I will skip the gods to be a god.-Ruddapoet