Category Archives: Poetry

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A Day in the Life

Image

A year ago I noted this date as to where my mind would travel

Remaining stagnant is hard to adhere, perhaps relapse racing to and fro

I paused as I answered that very question to myself

Overlooking any shoulders to lean on…I wanted to do it without any help.

I can honestly say I lost a few friends in the process,

Gained one or two I consider my best.

The Soul within at the very top of my list,

And even if all others were dismissed… you are there.

Looking at this cycle as One whole,

Then again, I wouldn’t recommend the tribulations endured,

That made the anniversary to my revitalization so pure.

Individually grounded in an awakening, knowing there is no time and there never was a wound to heal.

Steer me closer yet keep me clear…a lighthouse to my mental a guiding light foreign to fear.

Don’t mind me… I’m just trying to make do with what my heart sees as real

See through me as I trod along an open path,

I will strive until the very spirit decides to fast.

It’s the Anniversary to my revitalization…to thyself  give cheers,

as we chant mantras in hopes of rejuvenation to our peers.

It’s the Anniversary of My Revitalization… I planned this a year ago,

Now that my revitalization is complete…there are no limits to where I may go…

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Addicted

I may just be an addict…. A simple smile of hers delivers a fix,

Thoughts of her  tingle the innermost cavities of my happiness while her potency flows

From the curvature of her hips to the delicate silenced whispered between her lips.

Drunken, staggered…maybe I’m addicted knowing I could never get enough of this.

I may just be an addict…

She is my Heroine…

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Attuned

Sometimes the sentiments of life tend to shatter random moments of the past,

And glancing into the dimensions within a soul that knows forever will last.

I don’t know what matters as what seems to matter to me always seems to let the ignorance surpass destiny & the very factions many fail to see.

Sometimes the reunion of minds seems to redo what we have rendered and rewound through time

And souls refusing to include the presence of reality just misuse these flaws to every degree

Lost priorities focused away from mankind’s need to decipher a misguided seed

We need better conditioning…so on the sidelines of this corners being…I wait.

Enjoying the wondrous attributes created through nature’s very symphonic scheme

Knowing these thoughts painted across the canvas of life weren’t just some silly dream.

 photo taken near Lucea, Jamaica with my Nikon D3000 w/Nikon 55-200mm f/4-5.6G.  Lucea is the little coastal capital in the Hanover parish.  Lots of boating and attractions between  Monteco Bay and Negril.  Beautiful people, great good, good times…enjoy!

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“Resonant Easel”

I lumbered my possessions and went for a ride today,

It was the sound of the alarm that said let’s go.

That little voice inside kept saying where to ride.

No destination in mind nor attachments at my side

Be it bus, plane, or auto…. take me by….

The sound of ocean waves cascading

in quantum patterns arcading amongst the skies.

Over the borders of a Pacific Ocean type of passion…nothing specific in my spectrum other than love and laughter.

Stamps in a passport support the thought of many terminals to pass all while entering a new chapter.

Sentiments manifest symbols of safe travels to a destination nostalgic of freedom at last,

As my needs consist of little… a window seat and cool breeze.

Sand tingling between my toes relaxed near any of the seven seas.

Skin tones absorb the hue of ancestors and other reflections in life.

All calming to the latest Budos Band, the caravan of sandals and bare feet greeting granules of miniscule fascinations.

A peaceful attraction to see these sounds reign subliminally through me.

(c)Thermal Words

Photo: Viva Wyndham Resort – La Romana, Dominican Republic

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The Use of Words

I don’t write much anymore,

because there is no use of words if they go unheard.

Reflecting vibrations of immaculate celebrations…life

So many fail to listen.. when it’s their own Enlightenment, their own futures, their own path they’re missing.

I guess that’s why I scribe less because these words are more than just some bullshit phrases…integrated along lines; filling blank pages.

There’s no need to write when the very point I’ve made goes unscathed, or even worst misinterpreted or relayed in some unjust way.

I could speak all day but if these words aren’t heard then what’s the use anyway.

You see a wordsmith in me but to me  it’s more than the way the pen is gripped

and gracefully glides across the paper as gently as I stroke her thighs in the midnight hour.

You see…to me, it’s more than the move my hands make across the keyboard tapping the space bar as if it were her backing up to me,

Or the way the keystrokes return mind control as our eye contact arise every time she sees potential in me.

You see…you don’t understand my faculty…so I don’t write much as these words don’t mean to the same to you as they do me.

(C)Thermal Words 2013