juice n’ serenade

my, my, my & mercy me : the wind has blown through the branches of her sugar maple tree!

her fruit asking for a squeeze honoring my appetite with many more sonnets to please.

that’s my honey & ohh how she drips leaving sticky notes fastened to her perfumed flavored hips.

she got the juice! n’ i? the serenade! the kind of cut that spreads marmalade, on a switch blade.

a cut not too kind but one that resembles a portrait in your mind.

a picture contesting to be wrapped by fruits glow one that does not concentrate for too long or pretend to know.

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instead, the wish of this blossom cherry berry, is to be held by an airy and charmed fairy.

one that is dime sized and incredibly scary.

frightful for even as angels guard & protect they have a head, displaying many frightful faces.

after traveling too many narrow and wide unknown spaces.

these angels demand: that we not rise in fearalthough the writing is on the wall, the pen did not call.

no, instead it flowed through the ink of my tears.

swelling deeply into the vessels of my fears.

these tear drops commanded that we come near:

to hear a word that can be seen and made more clear.

ENDEARED, we are beloved by the moving motions REVERED.

now :

i can’t help but sing and groove, for her juice has moved all my senses – her taste renewing my lenses.

to her, i must – serenade.

all of my typos? now outweighed!

by her honey shade & succulent blade !

SUGARY SWEET SUITE

welcome to the sugary suite sweet – where all of your candies reside in a cavity mansion! care to jovially prance down this road? *well – it certainly sounds inviting, however some would dare, that you break free from the invitation and EOI!*

it’s a SWEET SUITE! decked with all the fixings! a chocolate pool. caramel encoded doors. windows laced with icing – mirrors glossed with angel frosted meringue! you couldn’t find a fructose more frivolous; than the fields of folly jolly, harboring these ranches. it’s almost abhorrent to walk into such saccharine corridors. the smell of such crisp invitation is enough to add more bounce to the ounce.

this facility of sugar is fallacious in every appearance. it shows up this way / that way / – after all to display a cone or honey clay. the molding of such delight is one that leaves your feet very sticky. your hands? very icky! your face? a house where you can’t find the mickey!

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don’t worry ! it’s a suite! you will sit on high towers all of which are rushed by endorphins. your brain explodes – this much is true, but you also collapse into a deep coma of activity. your every waking moment – alert and active at the snacks which await your tongue.

When the walls are too sweet, knocking them down is only mandatory – even at the risk of not wearing a parachute. When you’re free falling – you tend to not mind so much the road down to ruin. In the TRIPLE S there is no illusion or masquerade – the invite of fairy marmalade are savory to the search. if you were in need of a savior – salvation is salivating in this…when your enter those heavenly gates. you’ll want to keep it a private bliss, one you can secretly kiss.

it’s so nice, others dare know it as a vice. it’s what keeps you still.

*even in a field of cotton candy*

for some rather be abide in the cavity of sugar!

in the melody of a sweet piano tune.

the curse of this song and dance means never ending, animal like craving from the core.

the graph of subject and the title is doomed to make sense to the reader.

just as the arrangement of what’s in the bowl, seek to make sense if the food is tasteful or completely dry without flavor.

the process of this desire is not yet signed.

a promise is not yet delivered, to the nose of interest!

what can be found in the treasure box stolen by pirates?

the same gold and silver governed by kings and queens (&anything in between)?

the sugary sweet suite will make it difficult for you to solve the riddle of its sweetness. this sugar should enter the election of the affluent cavity – for it bounds you to the visceral and nectarous gravity.

however, if you were to come to this place – you’d find it very easy to chill on the candy pillows. the succulant marbled surface leaves a lot to be desired and that’s only the surface! in this place – you can even eat the dishes! this place is filled with syrupy mediocre wishes! the kind that melts on your mouth immediately while creating a dessert, desert like search for water. it may leave you dry, but that’s the cost for unchecked willy-nilly wonka cream! it’s the realization of living without a dream!

Bee Leave (Pollinate)

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we can begin somewhere. it matters not where we start but how far we are going to get there. the ways in which we converse with one another about any subject of interest would be to understand the story behind it. (the building blocks). herein this dance of infinite voices expanding from left to right – we often deal with people who are trolling, unconcerned, cynical and unwilling to change biases. this poison of miscommunication seems bettered remedied through the awareness of pathology.

it is of the uttermost importance that we not dismiss the facts or more importantly, the variables that make room for the most likely outcome. certainly, in life things sometimes just happen. the explanation for why something is; may require extra work and nuance. we are rarely if ever privy to the details of what makes something a whole. IF YOU ARE UP FOR A CONQUEST: (put a small droplet of water on a white LED screen and notice the small specs of the color spectrum.)

eventually, the bees leave they have work to do (pollinate) in the same fashion we believe. #savethebees (some of those beliefs don’t have to stick around) some of you may be wondering where are the leaves to go with these bees?

“believe like being the leaf that trusts and falls to the earth with faith and without thought.” chiquisoul

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to believe something is to imply there is something attracting you to this belief. it’s not always the truth that takes the stand. (especially in a culture intoxicated with rage and lack of nuance) to be skeptical is seen to in denial of another person’s experience. it’s an irrational assumption to deal with. we’ve always lived in a world where people can share a story. it doesn’t have to be a real story. it can be something they made up. if you think about how you hear most of your stories, you’d probably point to some sort of media. the media informs you of various propaganda correspondent to the world around you.

the media can be for the advantage of the facts or for triggered assumption in the people reading (the headlines) it is pretty easy to see that in this day and age – most media is built in the interest of making a profit. making a profit? but at what expense? could it be that the media will distort the facts in order to attract your attention? certainly. can you buy into the weekly flavor of reaction and dispose of nuance because something seems weird to you? OF COURSE. it’s not always easy doing the work. if you really want to understand something, you have to do more than bee leave it. you have to actually connect the pieces. follow what the available evidence suggests. read and then make informed decisions centered in a focused direction which favors the data.

people when telling stories often glamorize some of the details. sometimes they will convince themselves of something that never truly happened. in desperation, cold hearts seek another foul remedy. their keys will return to locked doors, however. you can knock and beat the door all you want. a lie can’t come into the truth’s entry. it may smash the windows, redecorate the furniture, color the walls, and replace the fixtures but the foundation and access door, can’t be abolished. try as they might, the truth always wins.

the truth does not win because it sought to be a champion.  the truth is standing there naked and exposed waiting to be embraced not shamed. a lot of things are weird. it’s weird how society doesn’t talk about trauma. what’s worst is that we often poorly if ever really seek to heal our trauma because we justify why it happened. we allow it to become normal. it’s weird how we invalidate our own experiences because we think we are always in control. very few things we control. we were given our names. places of birth. our parents. so many elements of life you had no direct participation in. yet, we are responsible to live with these circumstances. our minds and ultimately the story we tell ourselves is what we go with.

stories which involve extortion, gaslighting, predatory behavior and the like; more times than not, follows a specific pathology. surprises do happen. but we often miss what’s available at the surface and this applies to things that are weird too.

have you ever heard a song randomly and it completely thwarted you away from excitement? yeah, it’s not very pleasant, but it begs the question – where do we begin to build a better playlist for ourselves? how do we have these very real conversations without beginning at a place of blind faith?

so…

what can we do about the inevitable? when it comes knocking with a loud siren. the bells are going off like keys, trumpets, and rumbling thunder. be still i say. keep still as to not bother the echoes inside of you. observation is key but silence is a monstrous nucleus. there’s melody inside which is why the opposition to that (noise) is distracting by usually serving no justice to attention. the more actively intuned one is, makes them hip to the nature of sound around them.

if you are going to be hip – KNOW by being aware of points in how they intersect with what is drawn on the board.

The Firey Speck

In a moment where the wind blew
For a brief grievance, my coat tail knew
The fiery dust which embraced my eye
Came to proclaim a message of a thunderous lullaby
To be awake is to steady see
The anguish and anger always sent for me
A song for the hornet and wide winged bat
Inside of my shattered heart, my reaction is a frivolous stat

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

For some wish to learn at the university – receiving methods and assignments in strenuous diversity
Others are not for the will to learn from the school book
They rather get it word of mouth from the bell and informed hook
I suppose it matters not where education arrives
For as long as the trail of questions convince our begging lives

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

{bridge}
A refrain of speckled puzzles convinced me to see
A dark illumination that’s paralyzed me
If not for the will to sing this song
I’d refuse to believe the dance to belong
The color of a miss-step is the shade of a fading white
No one has to wrestle in the error of the unseen night

A frivolous stat! A frivolous stat! A hornet without honey and wide winged bat! A wide-winged bat!
For seeing without eyes are like bees without honey
A purpose to be drawn without the necessity of money
The speck in my eye became an enlarged reflector
This inspired a pathway to become the most desired nectar

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

Balloons & Bubbles

Apples & Oranges // Tomato’s & Apples

That’s like comparing “apples and oranges” well more like tomatoes and apples. I might like tomato’s but not enough in my fruit salad, you dig? It ain’t the same but what really is? Various things share a common ancestry but that does not make it the same species.

It was only a week ago, I discovered Bumble Bee’s do not produce honey like honey bees.
While this may seem like a clear difference – I would classify bees as just those insects that produce honey. I was pressed to find out how wrong I was for so long. Recently, I saved a big ass bumble bee that entered the room because I remembered we have to do our part in ‘Saving the bees for the production of honey. So, here was I worried about the state of bees which doesn’t even produce honey. Which made me wonder about life – something in me wanted to save it because of the benefit it had for the collective. Selfish Much? Indeed.

Many things in life share more in common than not. Did you know “Humans share 50% of our DNA with a banana?” THIS MUST MEAN SOMETHING. Cannibalism right? Likely not. The source of facts is another reason we examine why some statements while they may be true benefits from an additional fact. In other words, just because you can sit in the chair doesn’t mean you should. *Especially if the chair has a broken leg*. This generation is like many others in that we know more than the ones before because of the prevalence of the Internet and how we fit in the social media bubble.

Make no mistake about it – everything we process on the internet is indeed one large bubble. A bubble built on surveillance. Very recently several of my most used apps have ‘updated’ their terms and agreement. I’ve been paying more recent attention to this because these terms may not have my best interest. I’ve learned to accept that when using platforms that are not mine, they have the legal right to change the rules. As long as they let us know what we’re in for if we choose to keep using their services. I was very surprised by how much of what I see is based on what they think I want to see. I like a picture of a cat because cats are cute, not because I want to buy cat food. Some of these algorithms are not only wrong but invasive. It’s like someone buying you a pack of porcelain tile because they heard you mention once that porcelain tile made more sense in a bathroom than wooden floors. The connection shouldn’t be that large of a gap but in most cases on social media targeted ad they are.

A lot of what we hold dear to us is flying away on a string. Bubbles and Balloons share a lot in common. They both float away (Balloons with helium, bubbles with air) and they both can pop without sudden notice. It’s not until you move into another place until you realize just how much you have been keeping. Holding onto that thing we convince ourselves we need to keep when really they’re just collecting dust. When you look through all of it – you end up throwing away most of it. Only keep what you use, only buy what you can’t refuse.

I want to free space and time so that I do not spend too much time consumed by one thing. To help with this, I organized my phone screen to enable a deeper productivity.

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I had 3 screens previously LMAO.

This has freed a lot of my time with the help of me remembering – Social Media can just be Social Drainage. It can take up a lot of time and space utilized for other parts of the day. There’s an amazing TED talk, I watched recently which helped put in perspective how we engage the world through our phones and the social bubble we tend to trap ourselves in.

While holding onto the balloon and bubble so closely, never forget it is always so close to popping and breaking away.

Bees Swarming

My brain is on overload. My heart steady yearns for clarity amidst the noise. The future is calling me like bees swarming around honey. The time restraints that mirror my ancient age. Apparently, I don’t look as old as I feel in relation to where I thought I’d be. None of us are spared from the light from the stars which look back at us.

I’m still looking to be found. My voice is at the lowest barrow. I want to unlock my own inner jams. The more I rehearse these lines over and over – I’m waiting for the great performance. Performance anxiety is a real battle, yet staying present is a mindful formula.

Setting aside time to remember what this moment means is crucial. Air pilot reactions must die in the foreign flame. A period can no longer be the end all be all. The statement in question must be brought to the jury. My will is to testify, yes my intentions are to show up on the stand. Like The gears change when I drive a standard car – my focus must be in tune.

Whenever I am filled with the little that is left – my heart yearns for more. The resemblance to an abundance of thoughts is uncanny to nothing right beside me. We are living in the time where powers are being torn down. Structures no longer are able to maintain their foundations. The people have started a revolution! After years and years of being ignored and not seen for their actual scars – we the people have awakened.

At this point, it’s not about who’s sleeping but rather when awake, they get to the business of connecting the dots found in their dreams. The history of our philosophies is engineered by personal experiences which are then led by the examples of our fathers and mothers. Who do we blame for the pedigree of where our steps have led?

There a lot of people to point to. Everyone ain’t innocent but does that by default make us all guilty? I suppose we all make it up as we go along. There’s a whole a lot to remember and not much to forget when every experience is lived up to complete formation. This doesn’t mean it’ll be easy rather a challenge to return to the NOW. Let’s face it: The now can be freighting and exhausting – but by being present in it – our moments are longer.

Swarming buzzes in and out my ear. I don’t want to swap the life out of them. But damn, their noise is a growing pest. I’ll be damned if I’ll let them sting me, at the expense of their life. They encourage me to visit their queen – the soul of honey is at the center. As going around the honeycomb-like a bee – I’ll Be exactly who and where I need to be.