#copyright2012

[mscheevious]

This is Ananda- Hindi for “happy”. #mscheeviousgirl #acryliconcanvaspainting #copyright2012 https://www.instagram.com/p/B633cgSJMuu/?igshid=1oquv1kd9ltif

[metamorphosisofasong]

Burning Incense (28/12/12)

When all is said and done

Time will sift me down like wheat

The wind will spread my remnants like ashes.

My body would be subjected to the mercy

Of the atmosphere,

I will fly everywhere

I will be a part of everything.

My feet will find themselves

Wandering across the banks of the Jordan River

They will build themselves up in a mirage of a shrine.

And bare testimonies, that stretch across

The back of the Atlantic

Stories broken down into pieces of moments,

That will be shared equally among the homeless.

  These nomads threading the dusty

Carpet of the earth.

They will bask in my shrine

And pay homage to some deity

They hold as creator of all.

My bones will be the steps they enter on.

My teeth will be the glittering

Marbles that decorates its walls,

My fingers will chime and

Confess the secret mourning of the wind.

My organs will stretch across as floorboards

And support their feet.

  My remains – eyes/toes/head/skin

They will be the burning incense.

Only they won’t be in the shrine,

They will be housed in the heart

Of the suffering.

The mother that lost her children,

The children abused by their father,

The innocent caught in the tug-of-war

Between governments.

My burning incense will be their cries,

Their echoes of prayers,

Their whispers of mercy,

Translated to the very ear of God.

  Until he hears their songs

And learns the melodies of their hearts.

Until the incense permeates all of his senses.

Until he replies with the refuge

Of my muscles,

The extra strength they need

To carry on a little longer.

Until they know

El Roi (The God who sees all)

Is also

El Yeshuatenu.( The God of our salvation)

[blazermckinnon]

R 5 for like 5eva because 5eva is more than 4eva

O nly wears pink undies

S ometimes wears denim jackets

S eventeen tomorrow

[metamorphosisofasong]

Restrictions

the curly black hair

arched down your back

is not mine

your caramel like skin

is not mine,

the magnet lodged

in your smile

is not mine.

the x ray vision

stare of your eyes

is not mine.

the warmth

in your hugs

is not mine.

the priceless love

found in your heart

is not mine.

the second glance

demand of your beauty

is not mine.

most days when

i long for you,

i long to ring

my heart dry

of all its love,

gather it all

together in the

flesh of my body

and give you

so that you could

never thirst again.

then i remember

that i can't because

you are not mine.

[metamorphosisofasong]

the last of my 30/30...

Most days,

I feel like,

A new born

Laying on my back,

Staring at my roof top

Smiling at the supposed

Invisible angels.

  A new born

Held in my

Mother’s bosom

Feeding off

All of her love,

And bathing in

The warmth of her skin.

  Learning the language

Of her eyes,

She thought me how

To spell care

With each blink,

Showed me what this

Life has to offer

In her smile

  She was the first

Lesson that I learnt,

The first test that

I studied for.

The first one

I ever aced.

The first person

To teach me

That love is

Worth working for,

Even though

It shouldn't have

to be that way.

  So don't blame me

for choosing

To not work

For your love,

Because it

Shouldn't have

to be that way.

[metamorphosisofasong]

Work in Progress 28/30

shed my skin,

and you'll find 

broken tissue.

Pierce my ego,

and you'll find 

a rebellious child.

But I dare you,

to venture through

the transparency 

of my soul.

Pay close attention

to my unbearable

wounds,

Marvel at my scars,

observe the suture

remnants left behind.

They're His signature,

His trade mark,

His reminder to me

that He is able.

Look at me,

and see forgivness,

look at me,

and see mercy,

look at me,

and see grace,

look at me,

and see the goodness

of God.

I hope when

you look at me,

you see love made perfect.

[metamorphosisofasong]

when we forget....25/30

When language fails us,

We’ll come up with our own.

When our tongues are too bashful,

To be themselves,

We’ll cling to silence.

When we can’t find the words

To describe the way we feel,

Then we’ll just feel,

What are words anyway?

Letters that come together

To form syllables?

Lyrics birthed from our voice boxes?

Feelings deciphered into speech?

We don’t need words,

Our words never did much anyway,

We just need smiles,

Heartfelt gestures,

Actions that last a lifetime,

To remind us,

What love really is!

[metamorphosisofasong]

Human 19/30

Mortality can be so misleading,

Especially when life makes it so easy,

To choke invincibility of, off your tongue.

For you to beat your chest like a some tribal warrior,

With the dream of conquering some adversary

That you deemed

Worthy enough of your time.

Only to leave you in the bloody

Aftermath of a beaten dog,

Defeated,

With your tail lodged

Between your legs,

Disgracefully,

Licking your wounds.

  With scars sown into your soul,

To painfully remind you

How easily you can break,

That you can only go this far,

Because no one man is an island,

But you,

You were born to do the impossible,

Bred to conquer the unconquered.

Break down barriers,

And burn bridges

That some ever dreaded to cross.

  Even if this means being cut,

Watching your already fragile body

Become more fragile,

Spilling your insides out,

For the cause,

For the dream,

For the small fragment of hope

Muscled out of your mind,

That you being human

And claiming invincibility is not

Just some cleverly

Coincidental oxymoron,

Farfetched goal,

Or

Unattainable dream.

  Realizing that human

And

Invincibility

Can only by tied together,

When referring to the mind.

So dust yourself off,

Lick those wounds

And be invincible.