INCUMBENT APPEAL

speaking softly to the village dame
he requested that he be chosen to play her game
odds and perpendicular chances were in his favor
desiring the allure of her symphonic narration
and for the tour of her harmonic salvation
to be met with a qualified or undignified correction
(even if it meant subjection or rejection!)

this was his fate at odds by an uneven gate
broken belonged to the lock, though pigeons remained on top with a wailing gawk
superstitious anomalies affirmed vacant policies
none bearing the condition of a playable rendition
NOT TO MENTION:
this is what perplexed him the most
their sway held in
the everyday of her disarray , eager for aligned scenes
with multi-lingual tongues from the south and to the north of queens

if one could redeem a summary that is a recovery
of time spent, sleeping indifferences would allow transgressions the space to vent
his longing for the belonging of qualified amends
may lend to slanted cut pieces cuffed by enemies instead of friends

returning back to the neighborhood of playmates and athletic ends
meant being denied the sport and the elasticity which guaranteed material bends

the risk of being dismissed became the challenge accepted
as with a chaste and hardened heart, wisdom afforded the incumbent appeal, neglected

futuristic fantasy…where the ***💜**** party people be!

RIGHTEOUS SCANDAL

the sigh that lent unspoken words, no one has ever heard. whispered prose which stirred sought to answer the blank space.

Featuring a scandal made righteous:

come here! You righteous scandal, I think you are a bit more to handle!

But I’m willing to catch you, if you stand in the way of getting got.

cuz’ you’re smoking hot _ I rather be denied than to not be given any chance.

to imagine of our sweaty dance – it may be a proven “righteous scandal.”

a candle much too hot, that soon it’ll burning.

melting by the woe of learning.

how can’t eye see? what’s lit up right in front of me.

I have no choice according to the inner doubting voice.

but my eyes clothes with fashionable express, textures and buttons draped with incomparable dress.

a feeling I can’t compare, as your colors endeavor to void the unfair.

if given the opportunity , I’d renew my immunity

to refrain from the masquerade in order for a fair trade N2 a memorial street, even with callused feet – I’ll greet your direction to a formulated and poetic perfection. (even if it meant potential rejection!)

your bounce is far to like jelly. it’s making me realize why eye turn off the telly.

choosing to instead read what lies in between.

as nuance reveals what all of it may mean…

like a multi-colored photo book, my mind is far too curious to NOT look.

those succulent thighs, make me yawn thirst trapping sighs.

natural to my instinct , I can’t help but think into a deep fantasy.

basically? my testimony is a desired ceremony in a transitional rhapsody !

featuring both you and I congregated together in full supply…

WTM! TOF?

“Those that have an Ear, let them Hear!”

i find it curious, that when folks check in on you, they continue with wonder: “how have you been? what have you been up too? long time no talk too, what’s been happening?” however, those same people can’t / wouldn’t / haven’t – taken anytime to press play to engage in your latest creation.

🤔🧐🤨

if you want the message to relay; indeed all you need to do is press play and LISTEN! (i would really appreciate your feedback / criticisms especially if you make it through the whole thing!

this project was originally released 2 years ago as a written text, featuring 10 chapters with a lot of colorful poetry and allegory. i’ve done the difficult arrangement of writing, editing, and recording it all. There’s no ‘physical’ copy of this book yet because i really want folks to listen as opposed to flipping through the pages and missing something.

Typos notwithstanding, there’s a message! May you get through! Whether through the Angel (😇) or Angle (📐)

Blessings and thank you for everyone that has taken the time! This was done at no cost to you, but if you wish to give a love token and donation :

Cashapp : $gesturegreen

paypal: paradiseclarity@gmail.com

Zelle: jesterants@gmail.com

When 6 Becomes 9

when 6 becomes 9. that’s when 3 can be eaten from the vine. when life reverses the usual in favor of something more eloquent – the 3 becomes everything and me.

Without our collective memories of life – aren’t we all sort of dead? The meaning of life comes from our recollection of thoughts of our existence which is then transformed into dreams – which can inspire us to live a life that is a visionary metropolis. The mental picture fades away in proper time – once it does, was it even there to begin with? Was the picture ever really captured or only imagined like a painter, paints what they want us to see.

the moon is a waxing crescent – this means that the moon is on its way to be full. KEEP IT MOVING. but if you decide not to, it will carry along regardless.

c o n t i n g e n c y – a future event or circumstance which is possible but cannot be predicted with certainty.

we are often unaided as it comes to the natural changes which occur in consciousness. this much seems hilarious seeing most studies done by neuroscientists and psychologists, run on empty as it pertains to explaining what is consciousness anyway. when you say the word – what comes to mind? for me 3 things come to mind.

being awake
memory and recall
analyzing and predicting

when you rewind and reverse – you subtract and divide.

when you are ahead and fast forward – you add and multiply.

when you stand still you might wonder what is exactly the point of calculus?

6363636363669999393939393939363936936939 =

consciousness is an elevator. a sea. an illusion. something we only obtain in a limited time frame. hit or miss. sink or swim. you gotta eat. if you ain’t remembering what came before you, you may be curved against it. (sometimes that curve has sharp edges – whose gonna clean it up? also: healing takes time.)

we have seen how consciousness is drastically expanded when we are mindful. (mediation, prayer, looking around you, etc) CUZ IT’S ALWAYS ON YOU. life could give a damn about your personal”wants and needs.” make a room or be threatened by a predator. the snake would be nothing without the prey.

now we needn’t boast to have all conclusions but we should analyze based off patterns. again i say – picking up pieces… it ain’t about you “doing anything” necessarily. but being responsible to where the conversation is going…we mustn’t get sidetracked but then again, i’ve already had at least 99 thoughts randomly make their entry while writing/reading this.

will we ever make room for the things that truly do MATTER!? yes, for true as the writing is on the wall. the floor is the stage, providing company to the miscellaneous droppings from our pockets and tables. anything hanging HIGH – is doomed to be fallen.

nickels, pens, and crumbs all feast in fellowship with dust bunnies and a field of, etc etc. quite specific is the nature of anything when examined further. we often glance over the deeper context. but if you dare to revive the unending..(FOUND IN REPETITION/CYCLES)..you will see that you are already fully beginning. everyday. restart. reload….returning to the everlasting web of…A VORTEXT!

Still.

“I can’t hold still…your pull is a push into splendor….”

Your magic glide is one that causes a slippery tide.

Never mind the games that we are due to begin.

If I lose, your celebration will be a win.

I just wanna begin.

May we join, hand and hand?

We may then summon the sun to join our band.

As true to the natural chaotic order – let us build up a resting place.

A paradise where we can plant a garden at our own pace.

This mystery is an uncovered flower – the peddles are of truth, sincerity, and power.

I want to dream and envision.

You on top of me.

The kind of movie that you must see.

Your words are like silk and all this means is everything you say is worthwhile.

I have the money to invest and for what it’s worth, you promise a smile.

Still.

I wish a valentine. A rhyme with wine and dine.

So, what’s your sign?

For yours is mine.

Opaque

(If you rather listen instead of reading – CLICK HERE)

Opaque – not transmitting radiation, sound, heat, etc.

This disturbance of my peace steady lingers in my opaque heart. I am wishing to find a balanced memory. One that isn’t tainted by the lullabies of betrayal or bad news.

If there’s one thing we have an abundance of, is plastic! Bad News is like plastic. I don’t think we’re even aware of how well versed we are with the bad news cycle.

It’s not particularly beneficial long or short term if not met with balanced stories that service positivity.

I feel this even more so as a person of color. People of color are so well versed in trauma, that we’ve internalized the mere occurrence by heavily sharing it out of outrage.

We even urge others to make videos VIRAL of police brutality or some form of prejudice. While this may certainly bring necessary attention – if we only do this without proper balanced good news, none of it has the potential to serve us any good.

We justify this as to bring awareness to brutality which in many ways are important.

The key to solving this conundrum is knowing that you don’t have to tolerate the constant bad news cycle.

There’s just as much good news as bad news, it just tends to be dressed and packaged in the commonly disposable (plastic) reaction…“ aww how sweet” whereas devastating news or sad news is packaged as “conscious or necessary to know”.

If our collective good and productive contributions are rarely acknowledged at the expense of plastic, easily produced bad news – this rubric can’t be to our advantage.

What we should know but often forget is those bad things has been happening since the dawn of humanity. This doesn’t mean we can’t sympathize with those affected by trauma but that we should correlate it with the bigger picture. *things are much better now than before!*

We should also remember those good things are in abundance as well.

Remember the good things and do good things unexpectedly. Share good things even the ones that seem important.

Even the small good things, like you, had your favorite meal today or that you got a smile from someone who doesn’t typically smile. Good things don’t have a rubric of interest.

If sharing those good things are received by a simple – “aww how cool” or even the unconventional thumbs up! We can learn to appreciate that. The alternative often involves a non-productive response which can end up making you feel worst than before.

In light of this awareness, I am developing a new rule: If you’re gonna share bad news, meet it with something cool or even weird. Weird is better than bad. Cool is more informative than bad.

The bad news cycle isn’t always unnecessary but not always useful either.

Hindsight tends to laugh at our previous business.

Indeed we are often shady businessman – making deals impulsively not properly planning quarterly.

My prudential interest serves me because I was taught to consider my own values. Self-care is not just about pampering but taking care of fundamental needs.

I have come to bite the fruit of despair.

If seeing you there meant believing in our dream, I would not hesitate to go asleep.

Now I can’t be seen as truly wanting absolution.

From the morning complaints to the afternoon joke that turned sour.

The evening sun casts a gloomy indifference.

Who’s to say what it could mean?

We are locked in the chain of belittling attacks.

To be understood is our misfire.

We’ve stepped in the sulking cold, right when springtime arrived.

Never late but hardly in time for our lifestyles.

Will they ever mesh? Or could we ever be more than our aging flesh?

I thought that together with our growth would make time for all the rest.

But sometimes, shortcomings are aging truths that remain on the viral dial.

In my halls of shallow emotions, still, I write.

To be known for who I am and whom I will become without a fight.

We are all but a forgotten flower.

Purchased for the dining set table.

But we simply seem unable and that is why my opaque heart longs…for good news packaged in a reusable material.

Getting There

FOLLOW ME AS I CAPTURE THE ESSENCE OF THE WIND
WE MAY BEGIN TO REVEAL THE SEEDS OF MY SIN
CRYSTAL STARLIGHT HOVERING OVER YOUR HAIR
A WANDERING CALL BECKONS YOU TO SIT OVER THERE

AND NOW HERE YOU ARE NERVOUS WITH DESIRE
WISHING FOR PURPOSE TO STING YOU WITH A HOLY FIRE
THEY CAN’T SEEM TO SEE THROUGH YOUR OPEN WINDOW
THOUGH YOUR HEART BEATS WITH A CRIPPLING CRESCENDO

LOST IN AN UNKNOWN LAIR – WHERE GOVERNING BEATS REPEAT
SOUNDS GLISTEN PROVIDING RHYTHMIC MEDICINE TO YOUR FEET
A MAP OF PROMISE BEGINS TO ARISE FROM THE SMOKE
A CAT APPEARS TO REMIND YOU OF FATES JOKE

HOW DID YOU EVER FIND THIS ARENA OF CIRCUMSTANCE
WHEN DID YOU EVER FORGET THE CODE OF TRANCE
NOW YOU CAN’T HELP BUT TRIP ON A SLIPPERY BASE
THEY CAN’T UNSEE YOUR BONAFIDE FACE

THE TOKENS HAVE ALL FELL OVER INSIDE A SHALLOW CREEK
AS OUR POCKETS WERE FULL – WE COULD HARDLY SPEAK
BLESSED ARE THE DAGGERING MOTIONS FROM THE SEA
FOR WOE WAS THEE, NO LONGER ME – FOR NOW WE HAVE THE KEY

You Must Search

You Must Search because the systems aren’t designed to be completely honest with you. Systems enable a poisonous cycle that is literally designed to KILL you. If by chance you survive the toxic hell they feed you – they won’t supply tools necessary to restore your health and well-being. Look at it as a virus installed the moment you bought a new computer. It’s only a matter of time before it crashed but the repair won’t be for free.

But for a $Price$ far beyond your ability to compensate. All of the billboards tell you nothing is wrong and that this is the way it goes. All of the glitter and expensive things are shown as believable. It’s sold as a dream that everyone desires although you must be asleep to enter it. The price for liberation – leaves you left with very little leg room. While your legs may be stuck in a closed in place, your ability to move is still encouraged.

You Must Search for loving yourself isn’t always the easiest path but it yields the best benefits. It’s not that people don’t care they just don’t care enough to change what you’re doing in your life. It’s good to have a village hold everyone responsible but it ain’t the norm. People barely acknowledge that you’re there. When something comes up – like if your pants are down. This doesn’t always alert your neighbors all the time. They might not find it necessary to tell you – this is why your mirror is your best friend.

You Must Search cuz you’re responsible without given the reason to know why you gotta find out. You’re thrown in – sink, swim, or float. You’ll have to do each of these actions at some point in time. This matters because the importance of awareness is literally life-changing. Getting to know why things sink, swim, and float helps identify the problem. It ain’t just you, tho! Sharing this space with about 7 billion other people and counting helps create some perspective. When in doubt be your own best friend and look out the window to gain empathy.

You Must Search for there are various clues hidden between the walls and halls of your waking life. You’re on an endless journey which is governed by the rules you set. These rules are imaginary – they only make sense to those that follow. There is Black and White – and those colors which are in between.

You Must Search for the fun is in the adventure to find out what’s awaiting you. (Which is a lot)

Statistical Torture

“If you torture data enough, it will confess to anything you like.”

– Ronald Coase

It’s too hot. It’s too cold. The world is beautiful. The world is ugly.

All of these statements can simultaneously be true. They don’t have to cancel each other out.

Let’s say a man said something sexist. (Which happens a lot, unfortunately) In response to this sexist comment – a white woman said something racist to counter what he said. This doesn’t cancel out each statement being problematic. We tend to fight over what’s worst when all the apples can be spoiled. What’s the point in picking a side when every side has an element that can be proved and corrected?

“We are like the animals on Noah’s Ark arguing about whose shit stinks more, with the boat being the only thing keeping us from certain extinction. If it floats, it is mine as good as yours. “

– Sanada Maitreya

Whenever you look at stats and follow them – it’s easy to torture the hell out of them as Ronald eloquently put it.

Picking sides. Being one tracked minded. All of these definitions to define where we stand can be very isolating. It’s best, to be careful so that we’re not completely self-absorbed in our own evaluations in how we see the world. Have you ever found yourself pushing the limits just to see if it’ll break?

It starts with knowing there’s a limit and yet still seeing how far you can go. Adrenaline is the main reason for this nonsensical pushing and pulling. It’s thrilling and surprises come very rarely but the mere chance is enough to keep one going. Humans often get a kick out of torturing what is in front of them. Limit pushing. I know I’m not the only one who’s seen people doing dumb shit for the sake of it. Most seem to do it for attention while others seem to do it just to bend the statistics.

As a child, it was always my goal to make it to the Guinness World Records. I wanted to break a record! I figured, their so many records to choose from, I felt this would be an easy feat. Maybe I’d hop on a pogo stick for hours at a time (I was pretty good at it) Notwithstanding the many numbers of people trying to do the same thing and the amount of determination needed to make this happen, safe to say my desire quickly dwindled. I looked at the numbers and felt crushed by the likelihood and probability.

How probable is it that we’ll get our shit together before looking for revenge? When someone crosses us are we looking for justice just the same?

We ought to be careful how we look at data otherwise we’d arrive at various conclusions. We’re already at the age of a sort of ‘post-truth’ but the numbers stay the same if we know what we’re looking at.

So next time someone wants to read to you a stat about XYZ – remember anything can be tortured. Including numbers, ain’t that surprising tho is it? 😀

Tremendous & Superfluous (That’s Delicious)

That’s delicious.

This kind of taste is the necessary elixir needed for a life like mine. A vacation. A place to lay my head in spite of the constant noise. Every once in a while – I gotta bite from the sugar rush. A climb up the mountain so that I can chill with the clouds. Traveling away hasn’t harmed anyone. When you know what’s coming for you and what ain’t.

It’s always wise to count the strings and to take measures before you arrive. If you’re planning to go anywhere – Draw a map. Make it plain. For so much work is put into avoiding a crash. We must secure our deposits. Tie down the alluring spend. If there’s anything we want, it’s certainty that our check is coming on time.

What a superfluous kiss this is. When our long waited goals will kiss the lips of manifestation. I can’t hide my smile when a graceful strut of fulfillment comes knocking for me. Don’t you like it when it’s coming for you!

It’s delicious – when the sexy embrace of ‘What’s mine’ arrests me onto secret floors. My joy is exposed.

While much happier now, I feel my kisses have been wasted – It’s taken a tremendous amount of effort to get to this point. Nonetheless, this is where we at!

My taste for more offers temptation to my curious feet. They walk up the stairs carefully guided by the aura of foreplay. With careful nature – We must caress time as we have it in our arms. The amount of attention we pay is instructed by the value we set. How can we know what is ours and what’s theirs? Upon the table being set, why not rush in earnest desire to be fed? Why wait?

For when the table is set – the seats are ready to get warm. The bread invites us to partake. It’s better if we can crumble it down to the finest it can be. Allowing the sweetness to absorb on our tongues. Ain’t no need to rush this feeling tho. When it’s like a cow chewing cud – 1,000 rotations a minute. This food is fine and yes, delicious to the belly and mind. Eating slowly and slowly.

Tremendous and Superfluous – a race to the finest taste. Guaranteed to be delicious cuz the seasonings make a difference. You may be a little too much or not enough but you’re guaranteed a delicious bite. It’ll make you go Hmmm! I wonder how I didn’t figure it out before? It’s alright tho, cuz it’s delicious when everything is Tremendous and Superfluous!

SYZYGY 21.

A solar eclipse is a lineup of the Sun, the Moon, and Earth. (Also known as a syzygy.)

The Moon, directly between the Sun and Earth, casts a shadow on our planet.

It’s something that rarely happens, but every once a while we have the fortune of experiencing it.

The Moon has to be between the Sun and Earth for a solar eclipse to occur. The only lunar phase when that happens is the New Moon, which happens to be tonight!

Where I am (Örebro, Sweden) We are unable to see the Solar Eclipse.

However, in light of this phenomenon – I wrote a poem which is featured below.

Syzygy 21

Syzygy, oh Syzygy – what a name to pronounce.

This is perhaps the reason you visit at infrequent hours.

Like the rising sun which comes to return a promise of a new day.

These are the glories that awaken us to dream without borders.

There’s a story in the stars waiting to be heard by our steady focus.

Looking widely with enlarged renewal entrances – our perspective refreshes again.

A shower to experience – a sight to behold.

Can you taste the connections as they subtract and multiply?

The moon up above desires to know us through our changing phases.

Those patterns that we can’t predict – the moon shares the same fate.

It is now the time of the alarm again only this time, some may not hear it.

Their lunacy has become full of unforeseen reasons.

But they may take hope! For the eclipse shall come again – in the future years where they’ll be ready for it.

This time now – We’ll glance through the computer screen to awe at the impending joy of these fragile moments.

For with my senses I can feel the power and my eyes can taste the light.

The new moon is invisible from our eyes, yet this is a time where all is full and aligned.

The black moon now creates a pressing desire to be found in the key of turning graces.

Serene glistens are carried in those who can catch with their eyes – a sight to behold for a lifetime.

But if by chance you again, miss a site like this due to the arrangement of time and circumstance.

Staring at the blanket in the sky will remind you of a light that’s been here long before you got here.

The Syzygy 21 transforms passions of desire with elation into poetic song.

Inspired

Inspired to go somewhere.

To fly into the presence of persuasion.

To count the stars while breathing in the dust from starlight pyramids.

I’m looking to find deep treasures buried in the bowl of my intent.

I’m not always ready to face the monster of realization because it taunts imagination.

I can clearly see where I’m gonna be.

I can taste the freshest waters of futuristic manifestation.

Yet here I stand.

Frail with a desire to move but lacking the gas and stimulation needed to cough up a revival of the chase.

When one can feel the power of intensity one then realizes the goal of emphasis.

The Word is moving upon my lips, and my vision is multiplying into endless translations.

My life is turning into a maze of possibilities.

Never before have doors become reflections of interest.

In the heat of my incentive, I’m inspired to reach places unseen before.

I’m following the trail of ancestral geometry.

The guide of the stars is mapped by close study of arrival.

I’ve been preparing myself.

I’m having to really trust myself more than ever.

I’ve always had people tell me I’m capable and I really believe it – but now I’m having to put that in motion.

Something about being 24 // Love is serving me some demands.

I’m just having to trust that all of this study is gonna pay off.

(Which I know it will) it’s just my experiences are teaching me a lot about myself.

New things are happening.

Still dealing with this and dealing and that.

Now more than ever my perception is being framed by my experiences and actions.

I’m inspired to redeem that which was lost.

To mend that what was invisibly broken, but now clearly seen in lines ahead.

Inspired to be.

Inspired for the sake of inspiration.

Inspired because there is work ahead.

I’m inspired because there is a fire in the motivation of silent motion.

Hovering

I’m hovering over you because you’re over me.

Your shadow is a lurking creep and I swear it’s to keep me in the age of ancient time.

Sweet forces of bliss pantomimed.

In my heart and my conscious mind.

Addressing the tribulations of my alienated vocal dimension – I beckon to be heard.

Through a lover like you, with a season of passion and a river of mention.

To be carried under your umbrella of comfort, I plead for the rain to shower.

Just to be felt by your grasp, only a little more, and I’ll be closer into the pondering of your mind.

Comforted by the sweet walls of your thoughts.

These scales of recognition are trailing marks of your interest to me.

Your ideas carved with me in sound.

Breathlessly my own sequence of words is captured in the engaging glare.

Redemption.

You excite me and make my thoughts – spend into suspension.

All of you.

I can’t deny what I wanna make you feel.

I wanna cause your actions to form into a battle.

Literally paralyzing you into a web of sticky cream.

Then I want to get rid of your syrup by sentencing your lips with the weapon of my passion.

Pouring into you sections – I haven’t shown to anyone.

But my youthful self when I first realized, how bad I wanted a girl like you.

Badly like the oceans – I seek to calm you in the midst of your trauma.

Again I wanna become a slave to your spell.

I want you to look at me so I can surrender my reservations to you.

Giving you my jokes and camaraderie so that your laughter is a temptation of undress.

Confess!

Confess so I can heal you by the meditative forgiveness I must pardon to you.

For the blasphemy of your presence writes onto the walls the need for redemption.

If my passions resurrect a savior to your transgressions – follow me into this bliss.

Heaven is our journey and we are saints as we relinquish into the fire of paradise.

Inspired BY The Muse Of Native Land.

Ambient Sells

I had a vision of a day like this only about 3 months ago, a surreal experience alien to my most memorable paralysis. I had just gotten a vehicle and while joyful, I became vexed with worry. “What IF I lose my keys!? What IF someone steals my car” As anything in this material world often allows, possession began to take a toll on me. I started to undress rapidly, the concern for my most prized possession. I soon became suddenly wrapped with a CELL, which seemed to sell me into worthy. O, the cost to sail away by the boat of anxiety.

“I am late for work! Yet, I am very tired! I should get ready to go. The skies are ambient, colors of purple and yellow within a serenade of primitive desire. If only, I could capture the Wisdom of the sky. As I turn on the ignition, I get caught up in the vastness of my sleep. I realize I can’t drive in this state, so I intend on parking my car. However I am laden heavy with exhaustion, so I am going to park it just anywhere. I have to get out! I return to my room, as I lay down to respond to the beckoning exhaust; I awaken suddenly! I am then told; as I prepare to walk outside. “You’re in a cell; don’t sell out when you turn the knob.” As I turn the knob, I notice I am in a jail cell and SUDDENLY SCREAM AND SHOUT, Then I faint to my knees! How could this be true? I suddenly hear a woman’s voice frantically calling my name! ” Jesse!! Jesse!! ” I begin to pray within myself as my hope begins to build upon the next. I feel a rush of sudden relief as the spirit assures me of the great Calm! I awaken again from the state of shock. I walk outside to look for my vehicle, I can’t find it, so I return back to sleep. What becomes of these colors in the sky, is the acceleration of destination.”

Somehow, these events happen but only in a dream-like state. I remember actually believing them to only realize I was caught in Sleep Paralysis.

I remember actually believing them to only realize I was caught in Sleep Paralysis.

Today, I actually became a victim of a collision, caused by a squirrel in the road, which blinded for a moment my friend who ran into the back of my car. I immediately became worried and checked if she was OK and she was although her car was pretty much destroyed, while mine was intact.

Cells lock up inside and the fears we have are often coded and disguised. We must not allow them to SELL themselves to us. The ambient colors often shattering reminders of color. Colors meant to be exhibited!

Birthing Cell

Inside the birthing cell – a wave ancient connection, forms as a multitude of ancestral witnesses.

I hear them and now my writing begins.

I’m told to write you down and here my voice is unto you.

As a witness, being there at the birth of your being.

Surrounding you are the voices of the oppressed, the selections of what is to be studied and swallowed.

A sweet taste of uniformity – neglecting not the WHOLE.

Begin to tap into your subconscious, unwind the forces of time.

An apprehension of what your belly will take your mere suggestive desire will make.

Food, and leaves that are given for peace.

Peace in which a river will follow!

The Prayer of Depth

My prayer is that you will awaken and assure me in my most dire attempts. When I falter between the influx of my intention and your will. You are the answer! All of my hope is in you, my faith is because of your faithfulness. Truly you’re so great and wonderful, all majesty which is truly in you! You beckon at my seas and you roar with grand love! You’re precious and you’re my own! I am yours and our relationship is kept by your power. Thank you for the continual grace. You pour into me such beauty and love. I truly love you because you love me! It never ends because your love has no beginning or end. It goes on forever much like your love continues to awaken me in my most hopeless hour! Within, I can speak to you and you listen! All of my roaring depictions are heard in the tempest of my frail frame. As I look onto the others which cover the pursuit of their own, without navigation. I can’t help but see a portion of me, a glance of my own covetousness. I endlessly sought my own conjecture, to beckon of a need, that is greater! What becomes known in the depth, is my unique fingerprint. Many voices which are crying out, and I know we should hear them call.

Voices cryin’ out in the night hear them call
Voices cryin’ out, hear them call

It’s a night like no other night
It’s a day almost turning gray
It’s a heart like a broken heart
It’s a wheel at the end of day

It’s a life of a boy who’s scared
Of the waves rushing out
And the wind in the air
It’s a sight of one longing to taste of life

Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore

Visions that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more

Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call

It’s a song of a love unsung
It’s the pain of just being young
It’s a cry of a voice unheard
Of a face speaking silent words

It’s a hope that the time goes by
Take you upon a wing
Teach your soul to fly
It’s a wish that you’ll live your experience life

Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore

Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more

Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out, hear them call

Oh, do you know how it feels to be free
Walking your path of life
Embracing destiny
One day at a time

Voices cryin’ out
(Oh, can’t you hear them)
Voices cryin’ out
(Listen please, listen to the future)

– Donna Summer

Strumming Tingling

Strong strings – I can pull towards me.

If you were the string – I’ll have you wrapped around my finger.

With my might

I would seek to pull you a little close, but don’t worry, I’d caress you softly!

If anything I must compare you to a fine and curvy guitar.

I, the master guitar player.

My strums would be gentle but aggressive at the same time!

My progressions are gentle at first but this is until a gust of rhythm enters into my veins.

My French cuff shirt is designed to layer our fastened direction of rebellion.

Out of this world. I got to talk to you again.

Hear your melody again and bidding the time with motion!

The tune is singing within me and you’re the sound eye seek.

I woke up with your right hand in my hair while my fingers rested on your river brook thighs.

A sound so beautiful that my fingers, beg to strum the tingling of your twitches.

Vexed Panting

My blood is panting like on an African Safari.

I was kept on a journey that tasted like a volcanic fantasy and destination.

My body raved of a secret understood only between the curves and a rising agent which belong to me.

Silently my eyes remember what great presence your sincere frame belongs to.

The life which is being witnessed by the balanced giving of your charity.

You bite just enough to keep my mind on a vexed motivation.

I’ve known you to be a seed planter, and you carefully drop this amidst the growing perimeters.

You speak with a delighted gesture of peace, and a piece of me is grand as it is aware.

This is not a flaunted boasting of your most tempting rewards, rather humble auctions of your sensual blessings.

Actually, I’ve become familiar with the ground as I am grasping for air.

My body aches as it conveys a breaking down of carnal indulgence like I’ve never experienced before.

Messages are being tracked within the vessels of my words unto you.

Engulfed Cosmos

The chamber of your folly has cast an evening spell of virgin desires.

While at my new beginning, I laughed because of the sweet tenderness that was ancient.

The room is stained with a fury that raves the composition of your frame.

Without even touching you; you have pulled me in by the embrace of your S E X.

Almost kneeling before you – I must confess that my mind has made up a story of its own tale, my next move will narrate the grasp I watch.

No longer can I dissolve the sensual practice of waiting, my rising star is engulfed with the foretaste of our cosmos.

I’m moving along the whims to rip and shatter those chandeliers and wallpapers which focus – on your internal sense of design.

We both can feel the numb grooves, that silence begins to serenade within and with a slice of thrust, we can announce a noise above the grooves!

Again and again, you’ve pulled me into the fragile trance that keeps me at the tip of your straps.

My fingers are shouting at the knob that I’m turning clockwise and I hear the loud knocking off your heart.

I’m going to turn counterclockwise to readjust the shifting locks of your combination.

You can’t hide the alarm that is aware of the danger of this focus.

I’m invoked in the present state of burglary and my crimes have bypassed the law.

Listen to Amel Larrieux’s Afraid for a deeper understanding.

CONSUMED (O) COMA

CONSUMED COMA

The manipulation comes within the eagerness of gratification.

As the thoughts begin to seek into a throne where joy is indulged.

Curiously taking each step onto each height, the inflamed desires, are tickled.

Carried away into dreams and visions of what has become of your yearning settles within your engagement.

Now being kissed and caressed by the indignant lust – you’re propelled to fly higher into a monumental delight.

You’ve fallen into a deeply consumed coma.

Now what you hear and see are created, by the command of your endangered thoughts.

The dream and vision are only short-lived as the coma begins to break free from its trauma.

Announced in the awakening is the misguide of ecstasy, which comes only to court your charm.

It is in this misguidance, wherein the emotion of condemnation is sentenced against you.

Sugary Flow

Sweeter dreams of milky passions she speaks.

She compliments the insight of what she sees in the light!

The wonder in her words – counting again.

I’m trying to recall the statement in her blessing!?

Going forward through 17 measures – which is poetically sung within the voices of melodic serenades.

She sings of a feeling, that pounds her heart so near.

As her rhythm is understood, by the choir of an audience, everyone sings in harmony.

The flow is begged by a craving for sugary islands and sweet drops of rain.

If this were a song it would be forbidden in the broadcasted notion of what is truly sacred.

Every part of syncopation no longer waits – it takes each chance to deal with the response.

The desires are fully dressed with unselfish luxury.

Dedicated: To The One -Who Embraced The Element Of My Longing // Her Name Is Behind The Camera.

Volcanic Exits

If you are in a room wherein the heat is swamped with desire, the illness which warms your insides will by no means overdose on the medicine presented.

(Can you seriously, take more of what you believe you need? When You realize // You don’t want it?)

As the hot and gripping feeling begins to trickle, at the very composition of attraction.

You become the student of attraction while being taught by the lessons of fire, lava burns your shadow.

Words become whispers and your every breath becomes as loud as the dynamite.

What happens off the room where the aroma is sizzling?

Maybe you should ask the smoke as now it expands across the room.

This smoke and ash are elected to keep you held hostage to the room.

You find no escape, so on the ground, you are helplessly requesting for an exit.

Every a cough beckons for a clearance of this spark

Yet you continue to enter the dimension of flame and volcanic vapor.

Lust Into Rebellion (Scandalous Desire)

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Some of you may know who she is? I surely do! This particular face she has; always makes me give into rebellion! You see, she had just got denied by Edward! “Edward come back! Stop Edward, You can’t-do that!”

Then she looks in lust from the distance! Similar to the anticipation she had; when she heard the rebuke from the religious leader in the neighborhood when she said

“It has been sent down to tempt you, but it’s not too late! You must push him from you; expel him! Trample down the perversion of nature. “

To which she replied; “Did you hear that? He’s a perversion of nature, well isn’t that exciting?”

That is one of my favorite lines in a movie. You can count on the religious traditional law; to judge before knowing a person! True love from within comes from understanding and accepting a person as they are. If only a robot (Edward) could have a heart and not be programmed!

This picture makes me smile and indulges in the nature of what is considered the perverse. I am willing to become a scandal for the nature of unconditional love.

Beautiful Asexual

I’m inclined, but in a desire that is exempt from indulgent ecstasy.

There are very few things which deliberate the action and remedy to illness.

We can blame the exogenous factors which are seen throughout the windows or we can simply relate to our own dilemmas in the mirror.

We often neglect the latter; for a more easier approach to blame others.

It seems against the drive to eliminate the passion of understanding.

Very beautifully standing the ‘asexual’ motivation; is hereby unable to be tamed.

It goes in every direction; not looking for a home or a place of rest. It desires not a testimony, neither an oath into the future, rather a tentative examination.

Hesitation journeys on a quest for certainties; what becomes soon clear is its stillness. It is simply ‘Beautiful Asexual’.

A thought that is congruent to this is something I wrote called “Trained Mirrors” Check it out! https://soundcloud.com/jestereyesound/trained-mirrors

Sometimes, what is beautifully standing, is what you can’t have. There is a still a sense of understanding we should give! Not every time can we indulge in what is appealing! Sometimes we get in the way when looking at others. It starts with looking at ourselves!

Thoughts In Function

I’ve had a lot to say, but I have been coughed up with sickness recently. I rarely get sick, but each and every time I do, it’s almost as if my sickness embodies details of every vexed grievance known. I had food poising for some time, then when I finally became better my voice when out. Now my words are barely a whisper, but no one is able to determine that from reading the words that bring understanding because you (Stand Under) what you perceive.

I’ve turned into a function to deliver all of those positions set before me. I have become inspired to continue to write those things which are written on the table of my heart. Constantly; I have pondered so many areas of existence. I still am quite unable to pronounce certain structures of love that continue to paint the walls of my desire. It’s almost as if I have walked into the abyss of common ground and have somewhat lost focus on design. WHAT I am saying is; since I have been rebuked by my own sickness and changes, I will heal myself by entering into a place where all of my pieces of inspiration can live and possess the birthing experience of my execution. I will come here more, and designate for my words the practice of ‘Alphabet Sex’. I’ve been celibate for some time now but my fire is accelerating and the words exist for this reason now. I have to bring the joint!

While I am not able to fully seek those places of the sky this very moment. I can tell you this; as those in the fight for trophies, and medals come to the extent of practice; so is my labor of activity. The Olympics are so inspiring, It’s helped me understand the measure of success and patience!

Summarized Notion For Thought:Sometimes the universe does not find a place; for two galaxies to co-exist, when the orbits move slower than the other.

It’s about time to find the meaning of explosives within distance!

Possessed Silence

In the quality of my time and definition, there is room for space and to acknowledge silence. When the voices of my inner desires motivate a sense of repetitive actions. My silence falls into an unpronounceable recitation. The fashion and infallible gestures are those things which come from what is primitively ethereal.

Summarized Notion For Thought: Allow the possession of space, to design the silent utterance.