I am the guest and you are the artist.
Show me what ways you will bow to my inspiration?
Serenade me with the gift of your elegance!
Write unto me – the secrets of your most vulnerable moments!
Moments in which your suffering becomes the chief conquering.
Words which can excite colors – reminding your processes, to utter refrains of contrast.
How deeply the levels go and of how they maneuver through uncertainty.
Boxes are formulated identities, intended to help us categorize.
Living against their purpose allows the individualistic mind to champion with an organism.
Even prisms of shadows are tangible.
Visibility of stories makes a constitutional frame.
Through the expression of the artist, the guest can then sit down. For they are apart of the individual experience witnessing the ways in which the artist’s story, connects to them.
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.
I thoroughly enjoyed my birthday with my friends! Adia, Ethan, Daphene, Ashely, Francesca, Amir, and Jared! It was a time to remember, and it’s ONLY part ONE! It extends from this point on into the next!
What I’ve realized is a great detail within Mesmeric Renditions!
SO here we are, in the same position = I’ve had my turn, now you have given your rendition.
The same position of Birthdays and celebrations. NOW this rendition is of 21!
God, who created the universe has an amazing class, we all belong to; some of us are still sleep in the egg of unconsciousness, but I am a part of a rebirth now.
Sleeping because those dreams are only hallucinations of what we believe about the universe. Whether eternal or not – I am born again into the class of wonder.
I’m no longer hanging on the edges of a proposition.
Because, whenever we hang out on what is proposed, where do we really go? We are either on the cliff or razor edge
Surely – All of this kitten suspense is growing into a LION!
Those kittens that run through the ally allowed the black shadow to a metamorphosis of a LION of grand ROARING!
I can hear the roar – trembling at my doorstep! Once, I open it; I’m in for it!
Starting at a hesitant scream. Hearing the loud roar, as you open the door, you can see this won’t be a good conversation.
I’ve already shot my ego on the landscape of heated desire.
This passion burns inside of me, best to release it as the fever begins to trickle at the eyesight of indulgence.
No longer am I seeking a seized past comfort, my rest now prepares for eternal mesmeric chords.
The seized past is no longer sought because my resting is a chord played 21 measures…