gifts via ink: March 2013

Wednesday, March 13, 2013

secrets of a tear

Whispers from her

tears, I don't even know

her and absent reason why I

care but found myself shackled

by my concerns on why their there

Whispers from her

tears, " hey you over there "

Attempted to ignore but was

arrested by her stare...

as her pain trickled down

each drop lending word

to my ear like " hello boy I'm

speaking don't pretend you

cannot hear"

Whispers from her

tears, "excuse me over there,

I can see your well aware let

me explain why we appeared"

Baffled at this time

my mind trapped between

two gears.... I'm one shift

away from crazy her pain

is talking and I can hear

"I'm hear..... I think"

She said "excuse me! I know you

from where ?"

The look on my face

Implied her question

wasn't clear, she wiped

away her fear a couple

feet between us cleared

then attempted to alert

others she shouted " your

crazy!!! Disappear "

Secrets from a tear...

This is true I swear,

when I witness a woman

cry I'm sometimes harassed

by her fears... Maybe it's

my heart and its cast of

solid care but this is one

gift that makes this picture

hard to bare

Secrets from a tear

my love for music

I have a love

for the tone of

what I love.... Music

my favorite drug an

addict to her sing....

her song inspired

by my width and its

ability to spread while

extracting the love

she held between

Sweet melodies seasoned

by what was freed... The

sounds of satisfaction

notes altered by how she

breathed, a display of

my deep and strategic

switch in speeds has

lent a blessings to my

ears for her music I'm a

fiend

For her music I'm

a bird who just found

use of its wings, like

a virgin's first "YESSS!"

I'm talking birth to a

dream

The flow of

her stream mixed

with the appreciation

in her screams makes

for the perfect song, damn

I love it when she sings

My love for music

Once there was a

      time where their

      bond was fueled by

      forever.... Until his

      drive was altered by

      thoughts of a smoother

      ride and things being

      better


      All that he provides

      had gone absent to

      her eye.... Everything

      but her care, now that

      "forever" glare is only

      shaded by the thought

      of her lacking the need

      for a beating heart ........

      That reality no longer

      resides


      The bliss in

      Loves presence

      blinds us from it's

      known storm when it

      chooses to hide leaving

      behind severe wounds

      one which sometimes

      convince "he" that "his"

      life should be self-declined


      The feeling beneath her

      skin.... Her flesh dances

      like water in a pot when heat

      is applied while enduring the

      discomfort of the peel where

      skin just happened to die


      Dry is the air

      breathing requests

      her insides to fry, every

      inhale aids to the fire

      so as long as she lives

      the burn won't subside


      Assumptions of

      his love being reduced

      to lust so that strangers

      comply feeding her mind

      of his pleasures to other

      women he will provide


      Love refuses to

      relieve its grasp

      caged left to piece

      together the bits

      of crumbled pride which

      seems to be an impossible

      task lost love has tampered

      with what gods gift was to the

      eye


      Love we all desire

      but shouldn't forget

      all that lives must be put

      to rest.... Life would never

      be so precious if we lived

      absent fear of death


      Love decay


      (c) 2013 viewtifulink

sounds of acceptance

Her tongue glosses

her lips before the air

kisses her teeth.... Oxygen

summoned from the depths

of her an act influenced by

my hello and her acceptance

of all of me

That first gasp portrays

her surprised at the

feel of surrounding

me.... Gradually I travel

further which asks her

hands to harass the sheets

Her breathe....

I mean breath, inhaled

from beyond deep

repeatedly mimicking

my greeting.......

Slow....... applauding

her grip I get a kick

out of her slick, tight

then her moist aids on

freeing me so I continue

to say hello this snail like

pace is pleasing me

That warmth mixed

with her spill as I'm freed

all seen on me..... My solid

shines with an example of

what she's able to release

haunted by the sounds

of satisfactions grand

opening my favorite time

inside of her is when pleasure

begins to sing

Sounds of acceptance

this isnt what i asked

Society has its way

of convincing us that

certain desires are

dressed in routine...

so you strive to fulfil

a dream its outcome thanks

to another's success you've

already seen

What if fate rerouted you

on a path to a brighter light

and greater things but your

sold on what you've seen

so you continue tailing

another's dream

don't assume every

bird can fly keep from

thought their extended

wings, everything beneath

the sun consumes the same

air that don't declare us all

human beings

I've done walked

outside my shoes

mentally claiming that

natural wasn't my scene

falsely training myself

to believe everyone else

but me was better to be

sometimes we must

substitute our given

abilities, develope

visions with your heart

forget the gift to the eye

is to see, listen with your

mind as your heart now

guides it on how to think,

dismiss the gift given to

the ear as most tongues

are directed by the persuasive

mind of a human being

corrupting your thoughts which

fuels your action we all have the

gift to mislead

I understand if

it flows one should

consider it a stream

but its base isn't always

water your norm and mine

are two different things

This isn't what I asked

more than four letter

It's taste ....

overruled the natural

sweetness of her kiss..

its warmth whispers

my name as I grow

near to bind our lips

The softness I've

embraced you can

tell was tampered with

because I've been forced

into a state of recline while

being fed a future of bliss

It's feel...

Dances between the

thin hairs upon my

skin, its music played

by every touch so those

hairs refuse to bend,

exchanging my standard

thoughts with one's that'll

heighten the tension love

does its best work when

pressured by sensation

It's aroma...

stains your space

taking the place of

oxygen so every inhale

renews what's real your

bodies plagued again and

again

It's sound...

A lions roar when

fleeing from the depth

of him while her screech

mimics the soothe of

one playing a violin

It's look...

So bright able

re-light a "lovers"

skin.... It's been

said to leave a

glow something

similar to the suns

morning grin

If my current

love for her replaced

the dim in the moonlit

Sky's..... All who roamed

the night would need

a bright repellant to

protect their eyes

L o v e...... Is more

then just four letters,

only those who really

been there are aware of

its hidden pleasures

More then four letters

perfect wrong

Unaware....


      The mind of a child is

      unprepared but assembled

      to absorb so its crucial how

      their steered, Naturally

      entwined with their

      surroundings.... everything

      seems right when one

      lives absent care so their

      beginners mind labels

      perfect to what's there


      Induced to live

      a life........ where

      comfortable registers

      instead of fear, an unsure

      living arrangement seen

      a palace their mentally

      told appears..... That

      affect provided by

      unfortunate means we'd

      consider was unfair but

      we all can't live good

      the thought of a better

      life would lose its flair


      When your life gears

      are presented to you

      backwards... reality

      hits fast but your incapable

      of acknowledging what

      matters..... Things most

      frown upon your tamed

      to believe should make

      them flattered all because

      your childhood memories

      consist of living battered


      Perfect wrongs


      (c) 2013 viewtifulink

help me crawl

Someone I hold close

to heart told me my

character contains

ingredients of a quitter....

I just can't tolerate my

expectations not being

delivered.....

The base in which

I stand a Leo's mind

she should consider

if she did she'd understand

its really my desire to be

crowned a winner

I accept reality

putting up a fight

I won't consider, due

to the truth told to my

eye if it flows then its a

river.... The fact that its

not water shouldn't encourage

you to reconsider our visions

are all different keep from

thought the identical picture

And yeah... My past

dims most the light

towards second chances,

probably shielding me from

Desires of long term

romances, that flaw lacks

its kill I know she see's this

heart still dancing loves

melody she plays so well

its music lends a new reason

      to why my heart beat advances

Guide me....

lend your hand

and allow loves

paste to thicken,

walk me through this

world free me of all prior

reatrictions, experience trained

my mind it all gained off

bad decisions so my sight is

slightly blurred clear my

lens grant me precision

A finish line not

obstacles usually

indicates the end,

your the proof in

that summoning

feelings that induce

that thought to bend,

a new and improved

me hand crafted by a

friend who embraced

the guidance of love

help me crawl so we could

stand

Help me crawl

love weighs

Distance in which i

travel is my number

one enemy, the further

I seem to go the greater

the strain of bearing this

key

Since its prior holder has

returned its importance

back to me, I have yet to

encounter one who's

capable of lending me

strain relief

It's will to stay still

is fueled by my inability

to see.... My vision shielded

from love due to my distrust

in the female being

So my heart remains

caged encouraging weight

upon my key, a loveless

life has been its steroid

the longer I live the heavier

it seems

A couple came along

one almost managed to

detach the string but a

common trait was seen

which aided to the

strengthening of that seam

I've given up....

My past struggles

has seasoned my

vulnerability, my search

engine handicapped I know

not what one in search for

love should seek

So I walk slow...

maybe bypassing

everyone who's qualified

to embrace this key, because

I'm lost.... I've given up,

I'll just keep faith in

time....she'll convince

love to place its sights

on me

Love weighs

broken tics

In preparation to

recharge her pillow

befriends her head,

followed by her frames

introduction to the bed,

every time she shields

her eyes her defenseless

mind is fed...... Haunted by

the story of how her time

with love is nearly dead

Her search for loves

infection only lasted

about six years, for

two she has been bitten

and that desired itch is

almost clear, when she's

awake this death in time

she can bare, its her common

need for sleep that induces

life to this particular fear

Dreams of her chasing

a clock in attempt to

reassemble crumbled

care..... which registers

as time wasted the pieces

fade as she grows near

How can she pretend

her future with love is

crystal clear if every time

she lays to rest it all

gradually disappears

Broken tics

ideas of forever

A journey that usually

begins with an interest

of gaining a "friend"...

motives we keep hidden

naturally conceived through

first attraction

dreams of exploring

her world extracting the

flavors she bottled within

or fantasies of your skin

smothered by all that was

considered him

Once you've been

labeled "friends"

mutual interest may begin

to bloom.... Some which

may lend you thoughts

ones that suggest renting

out one of your hearts empty

rooms, but your desires built

off first attraction keeps your

focus on the start of relations

rules so that room proceeds

vacant leaving "time" to make

its move

A couple tics around

that clock and time

lent light to a better

you.... That influenced

by a bond one which titled

them your boo

A future now revealed

one which appeared

pretty cool and that

space in your heart well

a tenant now welcomed

In that room

Once the thought of

love is born it may alter

the way you move like

its meaning fled your mind

and made a living in your

shoes

Now your walk tamed

by love placing you in

a forever type of mood

so the idea is put into

play your left on one knee

accompanied by the moon

Ideas of forever

promises from dedication

Success the roots

to the thought of how

you feel your life could

be, That thought multiplied

by your acquired gift which

easily lends a hand.......an

assist to the rapid

growth of that successful

tree

Great fortune your

forced to see a salute

to that "other" guy and

tv and your ears feed you

feast with a menu of work

hards and never sleeps

meanwhile time sells

you dreams your caught

waiting for your bliss to

tic, eagerly watching time

fly beginning to question

Your faith in success like

fate whispered " this isn't

part of your script"

So many disagreements

with sleep fought through

those nights so your days

were stress free..... and still

you can't detach anxiety even

after your blessings of all

the right keys

A teaching from

society we've learned

that dedication makes

one unique, providing

a life of fulfillment like

a delivered promise of

someday you'll live

your dream

what if you've climbed

those steps and your

still not one with the

sky..... I've heard the

stories of it being

the limit just explain why

that low feels equivalent

to this high

Them birds that usually

sored from below just seemed

like a couple of spys... I'm now

considered to be at the peak

and still can't manage to aline

with their eyes

Now that tree of

success is nearly

grown but only produced

thoughts of wasted time...

because during its entire

journey through life I strived

for "his" mishandling mine

Success was never

promised so don't allow

it to influence your reasons

to breathe..... Great fortune

will naturally fall if you embrace

the life hes placed you to

receive

Promises from dedication