tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84300809617656163832024-03-12T17:17:53.428-07:00In The Middle::Work in ProgressArt and Poetry in the making...eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-59451480880123858452010-01-03T07:08:00.000-08:002010-01-03T07:09:26.180-08:00Been in need of some Poetic respiration...<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Inhale Inspiration, </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Smells of green sprouts</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">New thoughts begin to bud and beam </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Words take life </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">From lips are formed and take flight</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">light up the skyline like an array of colourful kites</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Strung along by song birds and beat box bees,</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Poetic vibes from smokey trees</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Drift, drift and settle </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">In the dips of eager ears,</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">And curls of kinky hair,</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Settles, and is absorbed </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Like rain on thirsty land,</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Like the touch of a lovers hand</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">It sends shivers down spines,</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Flares in once darkened minds,</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Gives sight to the once blind </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Pollinates your mind</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">You’ll find all you need to do is take a moment and </span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Feel, heal, smell, taste, hear, be real</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Take a moment to breath,</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Inhale…inspiration</span></i></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#33CCFF;">Set in motion poetic respiration.</span></i></p>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-24009227201102487362009-10-01T13:17:00.000-07:002009-10-01T13:20:08.153-07:00Untitled Slam Poem...hot off the top of the domeIn a place where bare thighs<br />Lustful eyes<br />Are vivid in the daytime everyday social scene<br />Its hard to continue rockin your old crocs and jeans .<br /><br />In a place where money crowns you king of the jungle,<br />And more than just two can do the sexual tango<br />Its hard to relate to the opposite sex,<br />Especially if your not after their sex…<br /><br />In a place where faces are made up in make up<br />And boobs aint boobs if they cant fit into a C cup,<br />Its hard for a sister to be seen naked,<br />Or be noticed if she doesn’t look like she gonna give it up…<br /><br />In a place where the poison is in plenty and sweet,<br />And seemingly innocent sweets are Viagra tweaked,<br />It’s hard to stay sober,<br />Or know whether you’re standing behind the boundary or if you’re already over it!<br /><br />In a place where the past is hard to get past,<br />And old friends with strings are still attached to your Ship’s mast,<br />It’s hard to just let go and go with the wind,<br />Hard to touch someone else when you’re still wearing his ring.<br /><br />In a place where small talk is common<br />And smooth lies are a popular side dish right after fries,<br />It’s hard to have a real conversation,<br />Because getting to know a person isn’t often the main motivation.<br /><br />It’s hard to maintain your essence and stay fresh<br />When you’re on heavy rotation<br />Trying out different selves in attempt not to stay on the shelf,<br />Sex sells.<br />Cultures based on retail.<br />What else can you do but accelerate when you’re on a high way,<br />Apart from keep your hands on the wheel<br />Steady, otherwise you might derail…eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-91020685140691386762009-09-28T08:38:00.000-07:002009-09-28T09:24:23.950-07:00Slam Poetry<div align="right"><span style="color:#000000;">So i get a heads up on a slam poetry night on this wednesday in KL, and ended up chatting to one of the <a href="http://poetrycafekl.ning.com/profile/ElaineFoster">brains behind the whole thing</a>, and like as if i needed any convicing i decided that i was going to be there, front and centre! Maybe with a peice of folded up paper of poetry, just in case the urge to jump up on stage surfaces.</span></div><div align="right">^_^</div><div align="right">as you can tell i'm super excited to be going, googled the place and evrything! Its just that with the loads of poetry i had, i couldnt pick one! So that meant i had to drop (if anything will be dropping) something fresh.</div><div align="right">So I put on my mellow poetic vibes, sat in a dark room, smokey with thoughts,</div><div align="right">and i wrote:</div><div align="right"></div><em><strong><span style="color:#663300;"></span></strong></em><br /><em><strong><span style="color:#663300;">Third world demons </span></strong></em><em><strong><span style="color:#663300;"><br />Entwined in the curls of afro hair<br />Cast deep set shadows<br />On the faces of 'the dark people'<br />From the black continent. </span></strong></em><br /><span style="color:#663300;"><br /><em><strong>I’m sure you’ve heard of them,<br />Seen them, know them… </strong></em><br /><br /><em><strong>Figures with hollowed eyes,<br />Coated with a buzz of flies,<br />Media lies…<br />Curled up looking all diseased and sickly,<br />But I am not sick.<br />The parasite makes me sick,<br />Corrupted,<br />The Alcohol makes me weak,<br />Manipulated,<br />The poverty makes me meek. </strong></em><br /><br /><em><strong>The shackles were broken a long time ago,<br />By freedom fighters,<br />Panthers,<br />Messiahs!<br />But Still, laying on the dungeon floor,<br />A heap, unbound<br />with so much potential to be so much more…<br />But still laying on the floor, </strong></em><br /><br /><em><strong>In battle with myself over<br />Whether the arm or leg,<br />Banyankore or Buganda,<br />Malaysian or Indonesian,<br />Africans, European, Asians<br />Is more superior? </strong></em><br /><br /><em><strong>What is more superior?<br />Is it the neck or the head?<br />Or is it just what we are fed<br />Aren’t we all part of the same body,<br />Same country,<br />Same ethnicity,<br />Same human beings? </strong></em><br /><br /><em><strong>Just organs,<br />Of different biological functions<br />But all made of cells? </strong></em><br /><br /><em><strong>Is Black really dark,<br />Or is it our own shadows that tint us?<br />Sometimes we act possessed,<br />Most of us are media obsessed,<br />Used and confused, </strong></em><br /><em><strong>Side-effects of<br />Third world demon mind tricks. </strong></em><br /><br /><div align="right"><span style="color:#000000;">Usually my poems are short and sweet, but i made this a little hevier, longer, "slam-ier" (if such a word exists).</span></div><div align="right"><span style="color:#000000;">currently untitiled, but nomiated to be the poem i perform at my first open mic ever...</span></div><div align="right"><span style="color:#000000;"></span></div><div align="right"></span></div>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-48041209555405792342009-09-17T09:43:00.000-07:002009-09-17T10:22:18.571-07:00Locked out...<strong>Little black girl<br />In a big bad world<br />Sat in the doorway<br />Head bowed,<br />Arms warped around her knees, </strong><br /><strong><br />Alone, locked out.<br />He invited her in.<br /><br />Swung the door open and approached, her<br />Nose flared, trying to catch the smell of coffee, sex, ill intent…<br />The air was clear, but her mind was fogged with conditioned stereotypes<br />That cast shadowy figures of black erections and beady black eyes in dark alleyways<br />Wifebeaters, blunts and beer,<br />A sense of fear<br />Was her initial reaction to him,<br />a brother, neighbor, possible friend, possible rapist,<br /><br />He invited her in,<br /><br />Offering her a place to wait until the locksmith came<br />She smiled and said no.<br />She was fine, although she really wasn’t,<br />She’d rather wait it out, alone<br />Than in a room of black men.<br /><br />He opened the door,<br />She closed it and sat in the doorway<br />Alone.<br />Locked out.<br /><br /></strong>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-66830014151543741202009-09-05T08:51:00.000-07:002009-09-05T09:28:01.570-07:00MANuFACtured<span style="font-family:courier new;"><em><strong>Streams of brain matter pour into steel molds,<br />Shaped, to fit into the System,<br />Tested, to see if they’ll hold,<br />Disciplined, to do as their told,<br />Rejected, if they melt, crack or fold<br />But if they survive the engraving of education ,<br />They are passed down the assembly line,<br />Until a suitable use for them is found,<br />A lifetime bound,<br />A career.<br /><br />They claim they’ve ‘found themselves’,<br />‘Realized what they were born to do’,<br />Programmed to do,<br />MANuFUCKtured.<br />Certificates issued and tagged,<br />Then ejaculated into the job market<br />Like sperm swimming to survive,<br />to sell, themselves.<br /><br />Some get sold,<br />Like hot cheap pussy on a cold and lonely night,<br />Some stock up,<br />In the unemployment warehouse, Until:<br />They are bought at a lesser value,<br />Get too old to fit in the carton,<br />Break out or get broken,<br />Or simply rot.<br />Forgotten.<br />It doesn’t matter,<br />either way we are replaced<br />by better-stronger- faster-sluttier-dumber-younger<br />living products. </strong></em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:courier new;"><em><strong>Manufactured</strong></em>.</span>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-17493884137085227762009-08-07T02:00:00.000-07:002009-08-07T02:45:28.166-07:00Ready made paintings for sale (Just add water) lolSo a friend of mine has all these paintings crowding in his room which he wants to get rid of, so i thougt why not put them on my blog, see if anyone is interested in them.<br />They are pretty big and price is negotiable so ya...holla at me if you are interested. (send me an email at <a href="mailto:eizzy.k600@yahoo.com">eizzy.k600@yahoo.com</a> if you dont want to put you number/contacts out there for potential stalkers to pick up) or simply leave your contact under the comments and i'll get at you soon. (we can fedex them too for those beyond borders). LoL.<br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SnvyOqG43cI/AAAAAAAAAXY/A-JgHbSbY_c/s1600-h/P1011218.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367149714577350082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SnvyOqG43cI/AAAAAAAAAXY/A-JgHbSbY_c/s320/P1011218.JPG" border="0" /></a> '<strong>The Red drape of Motherhood' </strong><em>- Going at 200,000/= (negotiable)</em></div><div align="center"><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SnvvwY3bXDI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/LbpWS1v7wr8/s1600-h/P1000663.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367146995529767986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SnvvwY3bXDI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/LbpWS1v7wr8/s320/P1000663.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>'Dusk of boyhood'</strong> - 18<em>0,000/= (negotiable)</em><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SnvuPUmvMYI/AAAAAAAAAXI/j9W2p1a51UM/s1600-h/P1011220.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5367145327938711938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SnvuPUmvMYI/AAAAAAAAAXI/j9W2p1a51UM/s320/P1011220.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>'under her wing'</strong> - <em>150,000/= (negotiable)</em></div><div> </div><div><br />**Bless.**<br /><div></div></div><br /></div>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-63154757423802838432009-07-24T14:42:00.000-07:002009-07-24T14:46:18.138-07:00Where dogs go to dieYou drew me out<br />As a blade would pressed to flesh.<br />Cloaked in the tantalizing nature of death<br />Like a night light to insects<br />You induce a deadly attraction,<br />A pleasure from pain,<br />Of which only you are to gain.<br /><br />Stirring an urge<br />Deep in the wombs of women,<br />You thread a sorrowful scent of helplessness<br />By the careless flicker of your tail<br />Which you knew would be difficult not to trail<br /><br />A dying dog<br />In search for its final resting place<br />I follow, at first, at a distance<br />Till you find a peace with me;<br /><br />We share an intense intimacy<br />As you let me watch you<br />Undress your wounds<br />And dress them in pieces of me<br />Remained stained in your blood<br />Bound to your side<br />A bandage you bled through<br />Now used, healed and discarded,<br />Left only with a slashed scar, a reminder of you.eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-83308170221701488932009-07-08T09:39:00.000-07:002009-07-08T09:56:36.967-07:004 Jny23...<span style="font-size:130%;">Sneak preview:</span><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SlTNNFPYd7I/AAAAAAAAAXA/8_94IScypg8/s1600-h/4jny2.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356131481479051186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SlTNNFPYd7I/AAAAAAAAAXA/8_94IScypg8/s320/4jny2.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SlTNMSIbq9I/AAAAAAAAAW4/JatPodMt82g/s1600-h/4jny1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356131467759692754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 239px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SlTNMSIbq9I/AAAAAAAAAW4/JatPodMt82g/s320/4jny1.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>So, I decided to get my shit together and stop doodling and start painting for people. This one goes out to <a href="http://jny23ug.blogspot.com/">jny23</a>...Why? Because he asked (was serious about it). </div><div></div><div>so here's what i came with today (I will spare you the sketches and doodles)</div><div><strong><em>First Draft:</em></strong></div><div><strong><em>Medium: Watercolour</em></strong></div><div></div><div>I know its abit all over the place with the colours and crazy background patterns but i was just experimenting, before i do the final thing in Oil paint on canvans...it will eventually look more "together"...lol</div><div>(hope the nudity is okay, not too much?)</div><div></div><div>*Bless*</div><div><em>Thanks for the support!</em> </div><div></div><div></div></div>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-54402806011908114422009-06-25T07:14:00.000-07:002009-06-25T08:21:45.813-07:00YGB my ass...<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkORLFzK1uI/AAAAAAAAAVw/wRguW0yRL3E/s1600-h/_MG_3950.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351280401967666914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkORLFzK1uI/AAAAAAAAAVw/wRguW0yRL3E/s400/_MG_3950.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />So i was watching TV the other day and see this really cool competion on channel O, it stated: <em><span style="color:#663300;"><strong>"Make your own *YGB t-shirt, and stand a chance of becoming a VIP at the Channel O Music Video Awards. Simply log in below to get started."</strong></span></em><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div><div>*<a href="http://beta.mnet.co.za/ygb/">YGB</a>- Young Gifted and Black, its a really dope campaign aimed at <em>'fueling the dreams of a new generation, making them realise their potential, their beauty and their strength'.</em> </div><div><br /></div><div>I got so psyched up and went straight to my sketch book, see, i've always loved Tshirt/poster/album cover art, its a culture i feel part of! Plus its something i want to do in future (as a side thing), so might as well start here.<br /></div><div>I've made my own posters and CD covers (for my countless bootlegs and also due to the lack of affordable original 'stuff'), even printed shirts at school before, so i already had loads of ideas running through my head...</div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkOR4atN-yI/AAAAAAAAAV4/xT7WFs1K3dw/s1600-h/P1010073.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351281180673964834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkOR4atN-yI/AAAAAAAAAV4/xT7WFs1K3dw/s320/P1010073.JPG" border="0" /></a>YOUNG GIFTED AND...</div><div><strong>Black, Blessed, Beautiful, Brown, Broken, Broke</strong>...(LoL)</div><div><strong>Workin' it!</strong>...or...<strong>Strugling, Poetic, Soulful, Gangsta, KickAss, Undiscovered, Revolutionary, Inspired, Loaded</strong> (clickclick BOOM)...i could come up with them all day!<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>A section of my sketch book:<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351274574946547074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 277px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkOL36dEtYI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/yETg7XGW1yE/s400/P1010081.JPG" border="0" /></div><div><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351276473038922226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 359px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkONmZZj4fI/AAAAAAAAAVg/_-5U1w0kDkU/s400/P1010080.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351273638922474258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 338px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkOLBbfi0xI/AAAAAAAAAVI/iUuwVIdvCDk/s400/P1010075.JPG" border="0" /> And this is what i settled on, as a possible final piece (without the afro yet)...How i was gonna print that on a Tee, dont ask, it was <em>work in progress</em>...i did have a few ideas on where to begin...<br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351277208104359202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 355px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkOORLu0VSI/AAAAAAAAAVo/n-TQrXj601E/s400/P1010082.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>It would make a dope Tee right? </div><div>Too bad it wont happen!<br />I loged in and one of the terms and conditions were:<br /><span style="color:#663300;"><em><strong>"This competition is only open to persons who are citizens of, or residents in, South Africa"</strong></em></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;color:#990000;">UGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!</span></div><br /><div>so much for <em>inspiring "young african artists</em>"...more like "<strong>young SOUTHafrican artists</strong>"!!</div><br /><div>major bummer! </div><div>:-(</div></div></div></div>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-50491326219463787652009-06-23T05:34:00.000-07:002009-06-23T05:57:52.003-07:00Power Cut Spooks...<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350504580789423698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 257px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 439px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkDPkWsNzlI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/MjcXYbNF-FQ/s400/Image022.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><strong>Candle 1: Do you sense something...?</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>Candle 2: Huh? Nah, relaaax!</strong></div><div align="center"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkDP3f3WenI/AAAAAAAAAUY/GrgV3-DqFKI/s1600-h/Image026.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350504909669562994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SkDP3f3WenI/AAAAAAAAAUY/GrgV3-DqFKI/s400/Image026.jpg" border="0" /></a> <strong>Candle 2 : OMG! I think i just sensed it too...</strong></div><div align="center"><strong>Candle 1: Told you!...I think its coming from behind us!!</strong><br /></div><br /><br /><em>LoL...it was funny last night! Got a little bored last night during the powercut so i decided to spook the candles out...</em>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-54772287852300915212009-06-19T13:02:00.000-07:002009-06-19T13:42:24.370-07:00The Coin with the silver lining...The car slowed as it reached the junction, waiting for the traffic light to turn Green. She looked over to her daughter, seated beside her in the front, and noticed she looked uncomfortable. As she began to inquire what was wrong, she followed her daughters gaze; that’s when she noticed the miniscule scrawny hands extended to her, slightly cupped together, the beggar’s gesture. She slightly held her breath and quickly fumbled over the buttons that pulled up the car windows.<br /><br />“I hate these beggar children!” she exclaimed with a grimace. Her face screwed up out of edgy unease rather than anger. The sight of the malnourished tattered street children, some as young as two, struck deep in her. It hurt her. Made the car, the clothes, the lifestyle she and her family had seem obscene in comparison. Yet she knew there were much richer, right here, like the overweight lady in the Cream Mercedes in front of them, flashing her golden bangles and rings that draped her oversized hand that was crocked out of the car window. Or the man in the dark suite, laughing loudly on his blackberry in the car that towered behind them.<br />They seemed oblivious to the half naked begging child. It reminded them too much of the poverty they desperately escaped. The poverty they knew too well. So they conveniently avert their eyes. Roll up their windows to shut them out, at least for a while, until the traffic moved again.<br /><br />But no matter how high the car, despite tightly sealed tinted windows and loud music over the car radio, they were unable to shut out the nagging yet faint voices of the beggars. “Mama…mama…aunty…lukumi…aunty…lukumi…”<br /><br />Young and unexposed to the harshness of life, her daughter pleaded; “Mum, just give them 500 shillings…please, he’ll go away…just a single coin”. If she wouldn’t do it for the beggar child, she would do it for her daughter. To ease the discomfort from her face; it wasn’t making the situation any easier to deal with either. After all, what did she care what the street urchin did with the money. He could go buy drugs for all she cared; at least he would be able to escape his godforsaken existence just for a little while.<br /><br />So she pulled her large Gucci bag to her laps and scratched for a coin in her purse, amongst large 20 and 50 thousand notes. She eventually pulled out a 200 shilling coin. That would do. As she began to roll down her window slowly, the street child became excited at her response. She had heard his pleas. He began to grab for the single simmering coin.The coin with a <em>silver lining</em>. His heightened reaction stuck panic in her, the feel of his boney, grimy fingers on her lotioned hand made her jump. She spastically tossed the coin.<br /><br />It flew over the boys head and struck the ground in the middle of adjacent road. Increased heart beat made her deaf to her daughters screams, as he scrambled for it, on hands and bare feet, it struck. Like a single heart beat. Then speed off, departing with his life, flinging his bloody body to the side pavement. He lay, lifelessly limp, a dirty bundle covered in capitalist shit, clutching the shiny coin to his chest.<br /><br />The man in the car behind began hooting impatiently at them.<br />The light had turned Green.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><em><strong>WRITERS NOTE: I didnt know where to blog this, but i figured in the middle would be appropriate, after all, its about art...and stuff. lol. Decided to write something a little longer than my short poems...i guess i have more time on my hands these days.</strong></em></span>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-56508379967124569982009-05-26T06:43:00.000-07:002009-05-26T13:49:36.753-07:00Something Special (unfinished)...<div align="right"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/Shv0GfPLRZI/AAAAAAAAASQ/v-QHc3GH_Xw/s1600-h/2day+(2).JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340130175479399826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 299px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/Shv0GfPLRZI/AAAAAAAAASQ/v-QHc3GH_Xw/s400/2day+(2).JPG" border="0" /></a> I felt like painting today,<br />a picture of us</div><div align="right">4 u</div><br /><br /><p>Thats all i managed to do today. Was pleased with how its coming out, for a first draft piece...<br />Experimental, Emotional, Magical</p><p>Medium: watercolour</p>Background music : <a href="http://www.myspace.com/themagicwands">The Magic Wands - Magic Love and Dreams </a><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340234578946399874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 330px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShxTDkdbnoI/AAAAAAAAASY/TAKi6-58IaE/s400/kiss.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Then i did a little more... </p><p>Music: <a href="http://www.myspace.com/girlwiththegun">Girl with the gun (self titled album)</a></p>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-2306023075187342622009-05-21T13:26:00.000-07:002009-05-26T07:11:52.383-07:00Blue Zombie Feet<div><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShW6DaSMe1I/AAAAAAAAASI/K5Vsbi3PBaI/s1600-h/Image007.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338377501075602258" style="WIDTH: 164px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShW6DaSMe1I/AAAAAAAAASI/K5Vsbi3PBaI/s200/Image007.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShW53M3lL0I/AAAAAAAAASA/YHbuzRg0F6A/s1600-h/Image005.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338377291315883842" style="WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShW53M3lL0I/AAAAAAAAASA/YHbuzRg0F6A/s200/Image005.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShW5Yv-ntII/AAAAAAAAARw/VqWCIiZagtQ/s1600-h/Image014.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338376768164705410" style="WIDTH: 162px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShW5Yv-ntII/AAAAAAAAARw/VqWCIiZagtQ/s200/Image014.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShW5niWoEbI/AAAAAAAAAR4/jmpktadIt0U/s1600-h/Image019.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338377022205333938" style="WIDTH: 158px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 232px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/ShW5niWoEbI/AAAAAAAAAR4/jmpktadIt0U/s200/Image019.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br /><br />I think y'all already know that i have a thing for feet...</div><div>Got this idea from a memo i saw on some site, which asked you what ur fave body part was, and to photograph it.</div><div>No, my feet arnt really blue, I used negatives and amped up the contrast. </div><div>I like how ghostly they look...</div><div> </div><div></div><div> </div><div></div><div><br /><br /></div><div></div></div>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-39490503571483054992009-05-10T12:57:00.000-07:002009-05-10T13:00:22.171-07:00Komushana aka Sunshine<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SgcpH24xvvI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/eyZDEHoim5U/s1600-h/girl.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334277498613120754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 341px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 430px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SgcpH24xvvI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/eyZDEHoim5U/s400/girl.jpg" border="0" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/SgcpH24xvvI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/eyZDEHoim5U/s1600-h/girl.jpg"></a><br />Decided to take Robins advice and not to explain my artwork anymore, just gonna post it, let y'all figure it out yourselves...unless you ask.<br /><br />Media: Oil paints on canvas<br />did this during summer of 2007, but no one has ever seen it, so thought i'd post it...<br /><br />*Bless*eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-4723206144748850272009-04-28T02:09:00.000-07:002009-04-28T02:13:40.780-07:00Misplaced<strong>Displaced,<br />Yet from this place<br />Was born, breed and raised;<br />Then was educated in intoxicating European ways.<br />Mentally cropped, chopped and divided<br />Like colonial territories<br />Disregarding natural geographical features and boundaries<br />Boarders drawn between legs,<br />Standing neither here nor there<br /></strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Placed i was</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">....................Displaced</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">All in the same place.</span>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-36183032902415894392009-04-17T05:13:00.000-07:002009-04-17T07:29:08.991-07:00Addicted to knowledge...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;">My mind is laced<br />With a hunger for knowledge, I chase<br />Enlightenment, so through words I forage,<br />Searching… for what I do not know,<br />Yet yearn to know.<br />Searching… for the light<br />To fight off the encroaching darkness of ignorance.<br />Searching… for the light<br />That bleached the colour of my innocence ;<br />Enough to expose my nakedness<br />But not enough to dispel the surrounding darkness.<br />It faded, at the edge of the unknown<br />Left me, naked,<br />Vulnerable as an animal of prey.<br />So I attempt to cloth myself in these pages<br />But even suits of degrees studded with shimmering masters and PhD’s<br />are not enough to cover gaping holes of questions<br />That the light burnt into my mind;<br />Causing a quenchless thirst for knowledge,<br />A lifetime of mental dehydration,<br />This is the scholars fate,<br />Only through death will it satiate. </span>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-60739952017640605762009-04-12T10:31:00.000-07:002009-04-12T11:03:33.405-07:00Daughter Outgrown<span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">These</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#ff6666;"> clothes don’t fit me no more;<br /></span><span style="color:#333333;">Shoes squeeze my feet and make them sore</span><br />Matching dress too tight and bursting at the seams<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#333333;">It seems I’ve gotten too big to fit in your ‘perfect family’ dream.<br /></span>Clinging onto the little you let the girl slip away<br /><span style="color:#333333;">Caught up in maternal disarray,</span><br />You fail to see that I’m still the same<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="color:#333333;">Girl, just not little anymore;<br /></span>But as your daughter, I shall always remain.</span></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"> </span>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-32832476771112706392009-04-10T01:13:00.000-07:002009-04-25T08:14:09.655-07:00Tried my hand at Manga Hentai...<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/Sd8AucDUmhI/AAAAAAAAANg/z2MC6VkqbCI/s1600-h/manga+hentai.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322974082379323922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 529px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 329px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/Sd8AucDUmhI/AAAAAAAAANg/z2MC6VkqbCI/s400/manga+hentai.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Okay thats the full page spread of my manga hentai, i was just sketching random thoughts and stuff...so its a bit rough, like the two at the top and bottom right arnt even shaded. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p>I could make a porno comic huh? I think i now have a mini erotic art collection, inclusive of horny poetry, manga henati and an erotic short story on the way! Who needs masturbation when you got art!! LoL!</p><p>And NO I don't watch porn. I just have a wild imagination...and had a few case studys...like the one at the top left...the only one that i didnt do a close up of...that wasnt from my head!!</p><p>The first one I drew which was totally from my head was the second last close up...I must admit it was quite fun drawing these...</p><p>;-)</p><p>**Bless**</p><p></p>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-638042514877927272009-04-06T12:39:00.000-07:002009-04-06T13:35:35.243-07:00AfroTude<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5321667528527739714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 370px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 386px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_WOHTklBWj_8/Sdpca_qge0I/AAAAAAAAAMo/paigK9wohOU/s400/attitude.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Afro.</span> <span style="color:#ff6600;">Attitude.</span> <span style="color:#ffcc00;">AfroTude.</span></span></div><br />A page from my old sketchbook.<br />Medium used is good old oil pastels!<br /><br />The theme was <strong><em>hair as an extension of self</em></strong>.<br />The way we wear our hair often portrays an important part of our identity:<br />Long silky hair emphasizing femininity<br />Short crew cut emphasizing discipline and masculinity<br />Natural kinky hair emphasizing African ethnicity<br />...etc and the list could go on and on.<br />In particular, (at least to me) <strong><em>Afro's depict Defiant Bold Black Crowns</em></strong> (hence the 'attitude' - lol!!)<br />What better hairdo could I have picked to illustrate this?!<br /><br /><br /><br /><em>(This one is 4 u <a href="http://afrosistah.blogspot.com/">afrosistah</a>, your afro poetry inspired this post!</em> )eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-39919372951393752232009-03-19T22:49:00.000-07:002009-03-19T22:59:50.322-07:00Chemical Love<span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Hormonal reactions</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Triggered by physical actions</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Send chemicals surging</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Through arteries and veins</span>,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Like a shot of heroin </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Cupid’s bullet to the brain;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Temporarily disabling all rational thinking</span>,<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Left suspended in a state of infatuation</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >A state of mental intoxication. </span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >Chemical love;</span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:courier new;" >The kind of love that gets you high...</span>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-24754186002698460932009-03-16T05:18:00.000-07:002009-03-16T05:31:13.168-07:00ClosenessCloseness is not defined by physical proximity<br />But rather a dance between souls<br />Of complex and complementary strokes,<br />A body of intimacy<br />If formed by a presence completing an essence.<br />Bodies of mind unfold by the touch of fingertips<br />From conversations<br />as profound as the brush of quivering lips…<br /><br />A precious bond between two entities<br />Is created by a synergy of energies<br />Sometimes found between sweaty palms clasped, hand in hand;<br />Enclosed in the words of letters between long distance lovers;<br />In the comfort of a child’s head laying in rest upon their mother’s breast;<br />Even in the electric signals of phone calls and online messages between friends.<br /><br /><br />Closeness.<br /><br />Thanx Philip 4 d inspiration! :-)))eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-49760473243510185292009-02-28T13:15:00.000-08:002009-02-28T13:41:15.096-08:00Deaths Descent<strong><span style="color:#000000;">He desperately clung onto its fur<br />As it clung onto its life<br />Escaping through every breath exhaled…<br /><br />The vacancy of its eyes<br />Clouded with a murky darkness<br />Were transfixed onto a spot<br />I couldn’t quite see,<br />Neither could he<br /><br />Closed his eyes<br />Vigorously stroking the back of its neck<br />As if to muster the settling speckles of life,<br />For its flesh was still warm.<br /><br />It lay in a deadly stillness,<br />Helplessly heaving,<br />As death sucked out the breath of life,<br />Leaving a pungent odor that clung onto them both<br />Like the hoard of flies<br />That began to gather around them.<br />The descent of death could not be shaken off…</span></strong>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-21341107369366615442009-02-21T10:33:00.000-08:002009-02-21T11:19:00.936-08:00Battle of the poemsDunno which one to take for the <a href="http://www.thelanternmeet.blogspot.com/">lantern meet</a> this sunday:<br /><br /><strong>Option One: <span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;">Finding Poetry</span><br /></strong><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">I pick up my pen<br />paper...blank.<br />Trying desperately to trace a pattern<br />in this indefinite formless creation of mine,<br />i stare at a scribble on the blank pages of my mind.<br /><br />Usually, i bleed poetry,<br />but the ink in my veins is frozen by mental poison<br />the academic mind sometimes injects into the creative mind<br />draining my imagination;<br />made blind to the things i used to draw inspiration.<br /><br />I switch off the light bulb above my head.<br />Give up in frustration and retire to bed.<br />Lying still is only when i can feel <em>it</em> pulsate<br />from the rhythmic heartbeat of my soul,<br />hidden images and words within my mind begin to unfold...<br /><br />Putting my mind into motion,<br />my hands help connect the dots,<br />Reveling a creation<br />from within my mind made<br />elucidate from the flowing ink of my <em>blue-ball-point-pen</em><br /><br />My blood boils<br />and spills unto the page,<br />Giving life to these words i had renounced as dead;<br />And i rejoice the return of the lost prodigy<br />the return of my companion poetry! </span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"></span><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;"><strong><span style="color:#666666;">Option two:</span></strong> </span><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"><strong>Raindrops from dry clouds</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Like the fuel from a car my energy depletes me</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Someone left the engine running,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Humming…stagnant</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Thoughts cloud my mind.</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Thick dark and heavy like fumes </span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">polluting the true blue brilliant sky.</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Blocking the brainwaves of inspiration,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Causing scrambled stimulation,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">My thoughts aren’t able to form and fly</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Into the sky leaving streaks of poetic words and phrases,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Unlocking cages ,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Releasing the songs of caged birds.</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Which for now, remain rustling in the folds of my mind.</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Feeling creatively dry,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">I damn these dark thoughtless clouds in the sky</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Inhibiting me from flying...</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">I damn them!</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">And they damn me, in a crackle of thunder and lightning!</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">As if in response they begin to concentrate,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">And the darkness of frustration begins to manifest,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Electric anger through the air vibrates</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Breaking the tension of concentration.</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">The concentrated cloud of idle thoughts squeezes out :</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">A rain drop.</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Drop.</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Drops,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;"></span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Onto my head, </span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">seeps into my mind,</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Forming a puddle of feelings and words</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Which well strung</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;">Into this piece of poetry.</span><br /><span style="color:#336666;"></span><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#336666;">***</span></div>The subject matter is similar but they are two different poems.<br />The second one bein an edited version of a <a href="http://eizzypoetry.blogspot.com/2009/02/untitled-poem-i-wrote-last-night.html">recent post.</a> Or was the original better?<br />I guess i'm looking for the best between the two...the one worth sharing at the meet.<br />what do you'll think?eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-52370620641368443832009-02-18T23:13:00.000-08:002009-02-18T23:30:24.973-08:00Horny Morning<strong><em>As the sun rises from the east</em><br /><em>So does the heat from beneath my waist;</em><br /><em>Hardened nipples ripple the surface of the cotton bed sheet</em><br /><em>Concealing my desires,</em><br /><em>Attempting to extinguish the fire,</em><br /><em>I toss and turn</em><br /><em>In the glowing morning light.</em><br /><em>Pillow squeezed between thighs,</em><br /><em>Breathing heavy I let out a light sigh,</em><br /><em>As lustrous thoughts drip from the lips of my labia,</em><br /><em>And a secret it is no longer</em><br /><em>That for sex I do hunger</em><br /><em>In the early hours of the morn’!</em><br /></strong><br /><br />"its just a thought, only a thought" - Didoeizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8430080961765616383.post-16264997017907069152009-02-14T02:19:00.000-08:002009-02-14T02:28:56.103-08:00Untitled poem i wrote last night...<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#336666;"><em>I’m exhausted;<br />Like the fuel from a car my energy depletes me<br />Because someone left the engine running,<br />Humming…stagnant<br />Thoughts cloud my mind.<br />Like thick heavy fumes polluting the true blue brilliant sky<br />Blocking the brainwaves of inspiration,<br />Causing scrambled stimulation,<br />My thoughts aren’t able to form and fly<br />Into the sky leaving streaks of poetic words and phrases,<br />Unlocking cages ,<br />Releasing the songs of caged birds.<br />Which for now, remain rustling in the folds of my mind.<br /><br />I’m so exhausted,<br />Feeling creatively dry,<br />I damn these dark thoughtless clouds in the sky<br />Inhibiting me from flying.<br />I damn them!<br />And they damn me, in a crackle of thunder and lightning!<br />As if in response they begin to concentrate,<br />And the darkness of frustration begins to manifest,<br />Electric anger through the air vibrates<br />Breaking the tension of concentration.<br />The concentrated cloud of idle thoughts squeezes out :</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#336666;"><em>A rain drop.<br />Drop.<br />Drops,<br />Onto my head, seeps into my head,<br />Forming a puddle of feelings and words<br />Which well strung<br />Into this piece of poetry.<br />Leaving lingering words<br />Hung in the air,<br />Trails of the flare of floetry.<br />Spoken poetry.</em></span><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#336666;"></span></em><br /><em><span style="font-family:Verdana;color:#336666;"></span></em><br /><span style="color:#000000;">**Untitled....any suggestions?**</span>eizzy.khttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16948589188018557888noreply@blogger.com8