foggy ☁

this is where i go to write my poetry keep it original just breathe. ♛/♡ cemetery god

[shiallo]

“i walked towards you in a park of blossom cherries, petals dropping altitude, heart increasing magnitude. with little effort i made your lips tremble with laughter, a joy that shocked my muscles in place, a nostalgic moment of fate. i’ve kissed you a hundred times in my sleep, in my dreams, in my heart and your eyes glittered like sapphire like aurora borealis like the stars above the atlas. my lips touched your skin with the gentleness of clouds nipping a rainbow. your kiss is my luck, my gold, my passion. we walked with death grips on our fingers, breathing loud and loving louder. i closed my eyes for a moment to smell the flowers on your curly hair, to smell the skin that my body yearns for every lonely morning on a box spring mattress on the floor. a rush of tears flooded my levi’s and the concept of not having you with me caused pain deep in my iron deficient bones. i have visited this park on my own many times to watch your wings grow like dandelions since any drift of the wind can give you flight. i’m blind like Mozart, but when I hear your voice I know that you’re a work of art. Your fingers are the branches of this blossom tree that I hold so firm, waiting to catch any petal that grows loose, hoping that I will never lose you.”

— by Johangel - Blossom Tree (via formulativs)

[formulativs]

There's this shake that happens. Like thunder plummeting into a lightpost. Where the wood cracks and splits into atoms and the residue sticks to the freezing ground like tar, like hate, like a never ending lust. And this shake..... it's a fucking earthquake. A waiter having a bad day, dropping plates and shattering the ceramic, a storm cussing out the rain, an engine exhausted from thinking. Somewhere along the way this shake made sense, it had meaning and purpose, it had reason and logic, like Theatetus, but as time kept soothing the shake, it fought back. With an intensity of survival, with an energy so violated that the healer needed healing. And it shook and shook, like an anxious book, like an unsure look, like a fish on the hook. Until finally, the shaking stopped. The lightning became silent and the clouds parted. The wood let it go like the waiter did and the rain forgave the storm.... but that engine kept going. And although the shake is gone, as long there's fuel in that tank and the wheels still spin, this shake with find a way to shake before, but shake within.

- anxiety. l.c.

[cemeterygod]

I’ve been going my way for a while and the truth is, what’s image is all product. It’s quite scary to live in a society of image without buying into bullshit. Sometimes, “it” being ourselves.

But squash that and look deep. Submarine deep. Outer-space deep… and what DON’T you see?

Then allow yourself to feel that nothingness, let it sink into your flesh. Into the crystals that vibrate inside the marrow of your bones. In your non existent soul. Maybe it’s image that gives us feeling. Product that fills it. And if you can’t see into YOUR deep, go buy something. Go watch something. Go do something. Get influenced. But just know, that when it’s all said and done, your empty, colorless soul and mind will have a hard time accepting new realities. Which in fact, is growth. Inner growth. So I'ma go my way for while and create an “image”, a “product”, to love and cherish.

I’ll call it a person.

And I’m going to love that person from my crown to my root and back. And I’m going to teach them to see themselves as they are. To visualize vividly “why” they want to be. And yes, it will take time.

My time. My speed. My conscious. My influence.

So when this “product” is ready to be put into the hands, hearts and ears of those that stumble upon it, may they benefit spiritually, from the image. May it add color to their “deep”.

I can’t live in a superconscious world. No.

But I can be…. Anything I want to be… As long as I continue to believe in my process. While, I go my way.

[formulativs]

Hold on tight. This road is bumpy, and if you're not careful, you might lose your grip. And make sure to tread lightly on the sand near the oceans, I hear Sirens devour hearts and replace souls. Though comfortable, it's more complex when all you can do is forget. Forget the taste of mornings and the smell of rain. Forget the past and decline the future. Time is not your friend here, only space is. And as you come to realize the meaning of nothing, sit quietly and wait for a fire to ignite your aura...

Land of Ooo

[formulativs]

Something like...

Something like love, but more like a deep rooted friendship from a shattered youth; a rose in cement. These bricks are red from blood, but we continue to build walls that only tears can melt. I'm nothing but a drip in reality, bound to my mind; while she's the gravity that holds my heart intact.

I'm cold.

I want to see her now.

But true love is rage and bold. Something like a wild fox in mid stride.

Love makes me weak, tremble in anxiety, and succumb to my loneliness. With a departure that never took place, she's here in my arms every night, warmer than ever, and letting her go makes me shiver. Something like summer rain in the tropics.

Its hard to see through her fog, but tread on, and you'll witness a miracle.

I can hear her soul from where I'm at at. It yells and yells and yells. It wants to have no chains. No attachments. A free spirit like mist in the woods. Beautiful in form and essence, with a divine core. Her innocent eyes devour my instincts and effortlessly I fade into her. Something like a heart on fire... Something like love.

- something like....

[formulativs]

We wake up because the sunlight is dancing through the window with joy. My eyes are squinting as I stare into the atoms of those marvelous wintergreen iris's. Your face is soft like clouds, like oak honey, like syrup on pecan waffles. I can't resist to embrace you even if your hair is as messy as these sheets. I love your laughter, something like a carousel with youth screaming with content. An innocence of quantum rebellion that speaks of depression and heartbreak. A paradox. Your lips melt into mine like strawberry ice cream on a scorching evening in the summer. Maybe August came too fast, or maybe, September was the month I slowly fell in love again.

- Fall in September

[formulativs]

I'm aching for a feeling of release and substance isn't enough. My heart beats frivolously under my skin every night I spend alone in my hurt consciousness. I might have ruptured a vein or a vessel, which ever-way, I don't feel at home. Not yet.

Link

[formulativs]

I tend to push when I should pull. I tend to slide when I should tread. I am too careful and too reckless. I am too quick to jump to conclusions and too lazy to get up when I trip over them. I let go too fast and I forget to remember why I stayed so long. I tend to hold on too tight and to care too much. I love, or not at all.

Jm 2am

[formulativs]

let me hold your hands in the rain. let me hold your hands through your pain. let me hold your hands on the street, in the park, to the beat, of your heart. let me hold your hands from the start, to the end, to pretend, that we're friends. let me hold your hand in the dark, in the light, in the dim, to the hymn, of your sound. if you fall on the ground. i will always be around. let me be your angel. let me hold your hands.

3:57am - LMHYH : johangel

[formulativs]

I’ll be your spine when your vertebrae are too weak to sustain you. I’ll hold you tightly if you feel like you might explode. You’re fierce and fire can turn you into ashes, Phoenix’s are reborn, destruction is a form of creation. When the heavens created you, Michael Angelo made sure to paint you with a diamond brush and a tint of gold. All things beautiful
deserve admiration in this world. And a jeweled crown only deserves a queen. So I hope your vertebrae remains intact because your bones were made for seas to engulf. And if your bones crack, remember an artist created you with love and those crevices are there for people to wonder how such a beautiful being can be emerald while she dreams in black.

poem for an old friend

[formulativs]

You seem distant, she says in an instant; to hint that, I seem not to listen To every song she hymns or sings Or screams in the distance... In a dream through an open screen I witnessed an angel shed it's wings And I listened to its flutter As the feathers hovered in an aura of gold I told you don't forget me But that story's now old Buried in 11 feet of snow with an evil glow If you didn't know I can't let you go Your soul is glued tight to my spine Its cement on road On a path home to your heart Where my passion feels a spark In this house where the rooms are always dark I stay up... Waiting for you, to wake up

Otherside - Johangel | 10:21PM

[formulativs]

you're honey dipped and thawed out, sweet to the taste but sour to the tongue. i see you in my dreams or when im taking the bus and the strangers stare at me while i breathe through your lungs. sometimes when i walk, i hear your footsteps behind and i wonder if we're going to the same place in time. if you exist, you cant be mine but im am yours, my core is burning from inside out, im not your kind. my kind is tasteless and rebellious, low saturated like the clouds, always fading into the landscape, and moving gently without sound. i heard your whispers on a crowed street, you yelled my name, you thought you found, another way to let me know, my love means nothing to you now...

Johangel - Faded Emotions

[formulativs]

And its as if the world never stopped changing. From the moment you left your castle with its stones embedded in your skin. Your flesh rotting from the insides, while the sun shined through your eyes. The moment you left your ruins in dishonor and traded your lungs for gold… became the moment you left your valor and your words. And as crippled as your heart might have been, you strung its veins through the dirt. You forfeit its gift. You forfeit its love. For as long as you breath the rains will shower you from above. Your lies will simmer on your tongue. Your kindness will fade away like the mist. And in the sunrise, you will see the clouds shift. You will know mercy like the others, you must. The world will not stop changing until you are nothing but dust.

Johangel aka Link Clancy - Not All Change is Good Change 2:17am

[cemeterygod]

(BLACK ALCHEMY.)

something i’m working on

[linkclancy]

i guess i’m a rapper now (BLACK ALCHEMY.)

[formulativs]

She was sure. She romanticized her own defeat, but it was ironic to her, that it wasn't in her hands. It was somewhere. Lost in transition from one rhythm to another. Surely she knew. She has felt the touch during misty mornings with lazy eyes and a lustful addiction gnawing at her lips. She was sure, that when she pressed her lips against mine, her light would penetrate my inner sanctum. She was sure that love was real. But fragmented, just like her. Or maybe she thought that if she kept sleeping in a fantasy that her defeat would be an experience. But she grew hard and her edges were sharp. She had eyes like a hawk and when she stared into yours, some dark force seemed to have settled within her. Uncanny. She was sure that when the storm passed and the crickets continued their choir and the birds their jubilee; she would find herself. She was sure that when she opened my chest, unlocked all the compartments, and vandalized each drawer, she would find herself. She was sure. She was sure she wouldn't come back.

addiction. by johangel

[formulativs]

you sat on a balcony, staring in deep amazement, at the evening sky settling down for the night. i stared at you and joined you. you were speaking in tongues and your heart was set on the horizon. simple it was to be driven by emotion yet it was clear as day, that this is what you wanted. you told me that you were going away for sometime, you wanted to get lost in a crowd until you found me again… i offered you some tea but wet leaves leaves a bitter taste on your pursed lips and it reminded you of when your eyes flooded and your body shivered. you kept saying that you wanted me to come but clouds sometimes drift apart and the car was loaded with cds that reminded you of the time we went on vacation and the sunglasses you wore stole your vision and if you could bring back the dead loving me was an exorcism. in rehab i learned that addiction is difficult to shake off and when i leaned in to kiss you, your eyes seemed distant. you told me to only start a fire in winter, but your hands were cold and my heart was warmer than yours. you left the next day with a painting of the vast ocean and if the tides take you by storm baby please wash up on my shore.

distance